We met at the Rosa Mexicana and had pomegranate margaritas. He was a tall, dark and handsome craftsman. An artist really. He had worked with some of the most famous museums in the world restoring furniture, frames, and elaborate gold gilding. He had grown up on Long Island, was Italian-American liked to sail, grew basil and tomatoes in his garden, was sexy, fit, and truly in demand professionally. Everything looked good and there seemed to be chemistry between us immediately. I was feeling pretty pleased with this blind date.After discussing his work he asked about my divorce, I asked about his. Early on he said,
“You know, I didn’t think you’d be so pretty. Robyn said you were “cute” but you’re beautiful.”
I smiled shyly and took another sip of my delicious pink, frozen cocktail. He too was smiling and looking down at my feet casually said,
“I like your shoes.”
Mules were in fashion and I just had to have a pair when I saw them in the store. These happened to be especially beautifully, handmade in Italy with exquisite embroidered detail, clearly expensive although I got them on sale. I loved a man with good taste and this man obviously had that.
“Your feet look so tiny, what size are you?”
“I’m a six. I actually used to be a foot model.”
“You’re kidding! I’ve never met a foot model. That’s so cool.”
“You’d be surprised there are many of us out there. It was a long time ago,” I laughed.
“I bet you always have a pedicure too.”
“What color are they tonight?”
He was playful and I was having fun. He wasn’t one of those men who missed all the details we women spend hours on. I was glad he could be silly; I was so tired of dating serious boring lawyer types.
“I’m not sure. What other colors do they make?”
“They’re actually Coral.”
“Coral? Nice, I bet they look beautiful. Can I see?”
He was flirting. And I would flirt back. I seductively pulled up the leg of my jeans and slowly slipped off my sexy little slide.
“Gorgeous! I knew they would be. They look so soft.”
We both took a few more sips of our margaritas and smiled. He looked back down at my now covered foot.
“They look incredibly soft. I’d love to touch them.”
I laughed and took another sip.
“No, I really would. I’d love to just massage them for hours. I’d love to feel them against my skin.”
“Have you ever had anyone drink champagne from your shoe?”
He was so funny. What a great first date. I loved his sense of humor. I could just tell there’d be another date soon. I laughed out loud.
“No, I’m serious” he continued. “Have you ever had anyone drink champagne from your shoe?” he said it with a straight face this time, he was totally serious.
“I bet it would be awesome.”
When I expected him to be asking about my family, where I went to college? What my major was? Did I have any brothers or sisters? Were my parents still alive and well? You know the standard first date questions. Instead we were stuck on my feet and I just wanted to go home. This guy was a freak. I knew there would be no second date