A Perfect Date...Wow!

December 7, 2005

Last night was my first date with Philippe. Wow, Robynn, you were

right. He does have that French suave sophistication mixed with

Canadian puppy-dog charm. He speaks English with a nearly flawless

Canadian accent, but the French bubbles to the surface from time to

time, especially when he's talking about heart-felt subjects.

I amazes me that this gym-toned, handsome, successful man finds me

attractive. Like I've mentioned before, being found desirable

doesn't register with me. I have to really sit back and just remind

myself that this is real, and that it's OK to be wanted.

I entered the café ten minutes before we were to meet. I ordered a

decaf, non-fat café au lait, not my usual latte, in honor of meeting

a French-speaking man. I went to the bathroom, and by the time I

came back there was someone at the counter ordering an espresso. All

of a sudden, I realized it was Philippe. He smiled widely, green

eyes dancing happily, and said, " Francisco? " I said yes and

continued, " Philippe? Right? " And after we'd established our

identities, he confirmed that the café au lait was mine and

said, " This is all together, " and paid for our drinks.

We took a table in the window and began a conversation that was light

and funny, yet at times deep and meaningful. In the unfolding of

this tête-à-tête, I revealed my gastric bypass surgery journey. He

was blown away, totally shocked. He made BIG brownie points when he

said, " I would have never known. In fact, I think that you could use

a few extra pounds… but this is impossible! " I said, " I have the

pictures to prove it. You wanna see them? " " I hope it doesn't

offend you that I don't want to see them yet. I want the image that

I have of you now to remain in my memory. " He paused then

added, " Will you take off your glasses? " After another pause, eyes

meeting eyes, smile meeting smile, he said, " Tes yeux sont très

beaux. " [ " You have very beautiful eyes. " ] He went on to say that I

must have men lining up to date me, but I told him clearing my throat

marking my discomfort at his assessment, " Yes, I've dated some, but I

haven't found the one. " During the conversation, there were breaks

of silence that punctuated the dialogue, but they weren't awkward,

but a sort of silent admiration, taking in the moment, looking into

each other's eyes and smiling at each other.

After a while, we left the café and took a long, two and a half hour

stroll around the Castro. It was perfection. As we walked and

talked and laughed, it was as if there was this bubble encircling the

two of us, and the world around ceased to exist, and it was just us—

two people making a connection that was sweet and tender. At one

point he asked if my brief case was heavy, and I said, " Not

really. " " Here, let me carry it for you, " as he took hold of the

strap that was around my shoulder. He slung it around his back and

carried it for the rest of the evening. He took me to a place with a

beautiful, secret view of the cityscape. San Francisco has all these

little hidden treasures, and it is so fun to discover and share them.

Eventually, we ended up at the F-line terminal, the historical

streetcar line that takes me home. Philippe waited with me. He said

that he wanted to cook me dinner, and made reference to watching a

DVD together, and we made tentative plans for seeing a movie next

Sunday. " So that means that you want to see me again? " I asked. He

said, " Of course. I just want to tell you something, and I hope it's

OK to say this. " He told me that when he first saw me in the café,

he immediately was attracted to me and wanted to make love to me. I

must have had a surprised expression on my face because he smiled and

laughed, lowering his eyes to the ground, then lifting his gaze to

meet mine. He continued saying, " …But I think sex is an entrée to a

more intimate relationship. I don't just want to have sex with you

and never see you again. Things will happen all in their due time,

you know? " I agreed, as his feelings on this issue match mine.

We gave each other a peck on the lips and a hug when the streetcar

came. He said, " Francisco, please call me. You can call me anytime

you want. " As the streetcar pulled away, we waved to each other, and

I watched him disappear in the darkness of the city. I looked at my

watch. It was midnight. I sat there and smiled and felt tears well

up in my eyes. I breathed in deeply and bathed in the after glow of

a new connection.

I got home at half past midnight. Just as I was getting dressed, my

cell phone rang. I saw on the called ID, " Philippe. " A warm glow

came over me as I answered, " Hello, Philippe. " " Hello, Francisco, "

came back. " I just wanted to make sure you arrived home safe. Are

you at home yet? " I said to him, " Yes, I was just going to send you

an email. " We said our good nights, and I turned on the computer.

I sent him the following e-mail:

Philippe:

Thank you for such a lovely evening. I'm still astonished that a man

as handsome, smart and funny as you could find me attractive, but

I'll just thank my lucky stars and enjoy it.

I'm looking forward to seeing you again. If you see this before you

sleep, que sueñes con los angelitos (may you dream with little

angels). If you see this in the morning, have a great day, look

toward the sky and think of me, because I'll be looking toward the

same sky thinking of you.

Have fun with your friend from Canada.

Abrazos, Francisco

So Philippe gave me a gift—a perfect first date. I don't know where

it'll all go, but it's a memory that won't soon fade. I still am

amazed what gastric bypass surgery has offered. This scenario was

impossible for me, for many reasons, just two and half years ago, but

mostly because I wouldn't have let it happen. Now, as the result of

so much boundary building and soul searching, I am open to the

possibility of a new love, the certainty and uncertainty of a new

life, and the joy of a new me.

Francisco

December 7, 2005