Jon Timbers

‚First Date’ (by blink-182) I almost didn’t go to the birthday party. Not because I had anything better to do. I just wasn’t in the mood for crowded apartments, too much beer and people I only knew because someone else knew them. I’d seen you before. A few times, usually surrounded by the same group of friends, but we’d never actually talked. That changed somewhere between the kitchen and the living room when we ended up in the same conversation. I don’t remember what we were talking about. I remember you making me laugh. I remember thinking you were ridiculously easy to talk to. I remember looking at you halfway through the conversation and realizing I didn’t want it to end. And somewhere in there, a very clear thought appeared. I want to take you out. When you eventually decided to leave, I gathered my courage and asked for your number before I could overthink it. You gave it to me. I played it cool. For approximately the next three hours. Because apparently sending a text to someone I actually liked was suddenly the most complicated task I’d ever undertaken. Had a great time tonight. Delete. It was really nice talking to you. Delete. Would you like to go out sometime? Stare. Send. You said yes. Holy shit yes! That should’ve made things easier. It didn’t. I changed my shirt twice. I stood in front of my mirror rehearsing a conversation. I arrived early, then spent several minutes pretending I hadn’t. And then you walked in. Every stupid thought disappeared. The date was easy. Better than easy. We talked, laughed, interrupted each other, and somehow hours passed without either of us noticing. By the time I walked you home, I wasn’t wondering whether I wanted a second date anymore. I already knew. “Okay. I’m definitely taking you out again.” “You can tell me no. I’m just hoping you won’t.” (31, 6‘3)