Date #26: Hopeless (At Being) Romantic

I've always thought of myself as the academic type.

When I watch movies, even when I want the couple to get together, I always cringe at any romantic dialogue.

For some reason, the idea of romance just makes me cringe.

And that doesn't mean I don't know how to be romantic.

You can't watch Audrey Hepburn movies religiously your whole life without picking up a few pointers on how to woo someone.

But when Charlie suggested we should do a romantic dinner date, I was more than a little apprehensive.

ME: I just get really uncomfortable by the thought of candles and mood music and stuff.
BRIAN: You'd rather just get right to the boinking?
ME: That's not what I'm saying.

I'd begun to think that Brian and I should try out other restaurants aside from Cafe Nordstrom, but two things killed this suggestion. One, a lunch at Cheesecake Factory nearly ended in a gay bashing when I realized Brian and I were discussing the upcoming gay storyline on Nip/Tuck while a table of NRA members was behind us. (I know they were NRA members because they had jackets--no word of a lie.) I know this begs the question--Who the hell told the NRA to eat at Cheesecake Factory? The place has 'cheesecake' and in its name, how could you perceive that as being conservative?

The second reason we were back at the NC was one of the chefs there. Brian was developing a huge crush on him.

ME: Don't you have enough boy trouble?
BRIAN: I just think he's cute. I'm not going to pursue it.
ME: So you're not going to give him your number?
BRIAN: I don't really consider that 'pursuing it.'
ME: What about you and Peter?
BRIAN: We're on another break.
ME: How did that happen?
BRIAN: He said, 'Brian, I want to go on break.'
ME: Did anything bring this on?
BRIAN: Probably when I told him about the crush I have on Chef guy.
ME: Yup, that'll do it.

Chef Guy actually stopped by our table to see how we were doing.

Great, Chef Guy, encourage the madness.

BRIAN: So, you're tense about putting on some Yanni and lighting a few votives?
ME: I just don't see why romance is required in a relationship.
BRIAN: Um, so that the relationship doesn't die?
ME: Is that why your relationship died?
BRIAN: Touche.
ME: That wasn't really a touche, but thank you.
BRIAN: Why don't you just explain how you feel to Charlie?
ME: Because who would want to date someone who's incapable of being romantic?
BRIAN: Maybe one of the guys who sat behind us in the Cheesecake Factory?
ME: Remind me to stop at Borders. There has to be books on stuff like this.

Turns out there are tons of books on stuff like this.

Unfortunately all of them are hetero-centric.

BRIAN: This is so prejudice!
ME: Brian, just because there are no books here on romance mano-e-mano style, that doesn't make Border's prejudiced. It just means there probably isn't a lot of material out there.
BRIAN: Oh my gosh, we should totally write a book then! We could make a fortune. It'll be all about romancing your partner.
ME: Yeah. We can call it What To Do If You Get to Date #2.
BRIAN: I think it's a great idea.
ME: Thanks, but I've already got enough writing to do.

I ended up deciding on the classic "Make Your Man a Fancy Italian Dish, Put It on A Fancy Table Cloth, and Keep the Lighting Low" approach.

When Charlie got to his house after work the following day, he found quite a surprise.

Namely me, with a failed attempt at a'lio at my side, a newly stained tablecloth from where I had spilled the olive oil, and utter darkness.

CHARLIE: Kevin?
ME: You really need to invest in a dimmer switch.

Charlie hit the lights to find me sitting at the table eating Domino's pizza.

CHARLIE: What happened?
ME: I suck at romance. That's what happened.

Charlie threw the tablecloth in the laundry, dumped out the a'lio, and got plates for the cheesy bread (you can't get Domino's without getting the cheesy bread).

Then he sat down and put his hand over mine.

CHARLIE: It's the thought that counts.
ME: Really?
CHARLIE: Well granted, an actual meal would have counted more simply by existing but thoughts do score some points.
ME: Part of me thinks I subconsciously failed at this just because romance makes me uncomfortable.
CHARLIE: If it makes you so uncomfortable why did you attempt it?
ME: Because you wanted a romantic dinner.
CHARLIE: Kevin, my idea of a romantic dinner is one that doesn't come in a carton of some sort, and even then I'm negotiable. What gave you the impression that I was so high-maintenance?
ME: You're just a really sweet guy and I thought you'd be into all that romance stuff.
CHARLIE: I am, but I'm more into all that 'Kevin' stuff. And if that romance stuff isn't you, then that's not what I want.
ME: Someone should bottle you, you know that?
CHARLIE: See? Now that's romantic.

I gave him a big smile and wondered exactly how many more times I would able to screw-up before he would be able to tell that I'm just a big dork whose only real skill is being able to name the entire new original cast of The Mickey Mouse Club.

FRIEND: Honey, I'm with you. I hate all that sappy stuff.
ME: It's not that I hate it. Being a child of divorce, I just wasn't exposed to a lot of romance between my parents. I considered it a step in the right direction when they let their restraining orders lapse.
FRIEND: No wonder you can't handle getting all googly-eyed.
ME: I still want to try though. I'm going to start with something simple.
FRIEND: Long walks on the beach?
ME: I was thinking more along the lines of full-body erotic massages.
FRIEND: Oh my God, I'm tearing up.
ME: Why?
FRIEND: Because I've taught you so well.

So Charlie and I ate our Domino's pizza and watched some television, and not a single overly melodramatic statement was uttered. Well, except for--

CHARLIE: Is it crazy that I think I'm falling in love with you?

Oh Christ...