The date was September 27th. It was the early Autumn of 2006. I was going on a blind dinner date to meet Stephen Christopher Harris for the first time. Since we'd become online friends in August of that year, we had talked by phone for the first time the week before when he was preparing to return to Detroit from a work project in South Carolina. We'd talked a couple of times after that and had exchanged a number of text messages by the time we agreed we'd meet one another for dinner that night.
We made the date earlier that week and I had been so nervously excited about meeting the man that already I knew I was falling in love with that I couldn't concentrate on anything. When I got out of bed that Wednesday morning and went for my daily run, everything seemed beautiful and right with the world. As I ran down the street, I thought of what I'd talk about with him that evening. By the time I'd run my four miles and finally arrived back home, I had silently said many prayers about my hopes for our meeting that evening. As I got ready for work, I decided I wanted to take him something that evening. I thought flowers at first, but then remembered he mentioned liking sweets, so I settled on candy instead.
I left work early that day so that I could stop to buy a box of candy for Stephen. But as I looked at the boxed chocolates, the boxes all seemed too "girly" in their decoration and I worried that he'd get the wrong idea of how I thought of him if I gave him something like that. And I didn't want him to think me too effeminate either. Instead, I bought a dozen assorted candy bars deciding I would wrap them as a present in some way when I got home.
At home, I searched through my big box of gift wrapping supplies in the attic until I found a lovely gold foil covered box with a matching ribbon and bow. It had actually been a candy box from Christmas the year before, but it didn't have any markings on it at all. I lined it with tissue paper and arranged the candy bars inside and closed it and stretched the ribbon and bow from corner to corner. I thought it looked great and I thought to myself, this looks "manly" enough. Then I turned my attention to getting myself ready for my anxiously anticipated date.
I was so tense and nervous that I hadn't realized how long I'd been in the shower until the water finally began to run cool. As I rinsed myself under the cool water, finally I felt some of the intense stress begin to subside. As I dried myself and as I wiped away the fog on the mirror, I paused to look at myself and I thought, "You haven't done much with this body have you...?" And I wondered if he'd really find me attractive or even handsome in any way... But still, I hoped he would.
In Stephen's comments on my blog and in our brief conversations, he'd alluded to his thinking of me as being handsome, although I never thought as much about myself. I remembered I had wondered all that day if he would look like his profile photo... although you couldn't see his face, you could see he was well-built, muscular and handsome. A friend who'd seen his Yahoo 360 photo suggested that it probably wasn't him. And to be honest, I thought as much as well, but I had decided that I really didn't care one way or the other... so long as he was as "nice" as he had seemed to be in his comments and in the few conversations that we'd had up until then. As I daydreamed in the mirror, I caught sight of the time and I quickly shaved and preened and groomed like I had never done before as my thoughts turned back to wondering what it was that he saw in me... Although I had more than a few pictures of myself posted on my blog and I was sure that he had a good idea of what I looked like, I hoped it was what I revealed about my heart that interested him most.
When I emerged from my bath, I rethought and agonized over what I should wear so much so that I was nearly in a panic as I changed shirts and pants repeatedly, never satisfied with how I looked. In the end, I put back on the first outfit I'd tried on. It was the same one that I'd picked out the night before, black twill pants, a tan faux silk shirt, a black sweater vest and black dress shoes. Finally, surrounded by half my wardrobe on the floor around me, I stood in the mirror gazing at myself again from all angles as I practiced sucking in my gut, sticking my chest out and leveling my shoulders. Finally I thought, "Okay, you're ready... but remember, first impressions are lasting ones..." As I put on my best watch and the one other piece of jewelry I owned, my class ring from college, I grabbed the box of candy bars from the dresser and I headed downstairs.
I grabbed my best jacket from the closet and I stepped into the dining room and picked up my Mother's photo from the top of the server. As I looked down at my Mom's picture, I asked her to wish me luck. And as I replaced the photo and was about to leave, I thought to pray. I got down on my knees and I asked that God might watch over me as I went out seeking what I already knew I was hoping would be true love. I prayed that we both might have discernment about one another and that we might both know if we could find in each other the precious desires of our hearts. Although I had been nervous up to then, when I ended my prayer and stood up again, I felt warm, calm and genuinely happy. I walked to my front door, took a deep breath and stepped across my threshold knowing there would be no turning back.
As I drove the five or six miles to the restaurant, I practiced the greeting I'd settled on... "Hi Stephen, it's great to finally meet you!" Over and over again... "Hi Stephen..." Until finally it felt comfortable and natural. By this time I had arrived at my destination, I was on West Grand Boulevard in front of the Fisher building. As I circled the building looking for a space to park, I found one right across from the restaurant entrance. When I checked my watch, I realized that I was way early... it was only a couple of minutes past 7 pm. We'd arrange to meet at the bar of the
Grand City Grille at 7:30, so I sat in my car and wondered with each car that passed, "Is that him...?" Then finally, at a quarter after 7, I got out, walked across the street and into the building. When I got into the restaurant, I told the hostess that I wanted to wait at the bar for my dinner companion. It was a Wednesday night, and the restaurant wasn't very busy at all. The hostess pointed me in the direction of the bar and I took up a seat off to the side.
I had scanned the bar area before I sat down and none of the other patrons looked even remotely like they could be Stephen and so I realized that I had arrived first. I thought, "Well, if I'm going to sit here, I should order a drink." I didn't drink at the time and I hadn't had an alcoholic drink since 1995, so when the bartender asked what I was having, I wasn't sure what to ask for. I quickly settled on a Pepsi and as soon as I said it and saw the bartender begin to fill the glass, I regretted it. I thought, "What will he think if he sees me sitting here with a Pepsi?" So I quickly gulped it down. Sitting there with my empty glass, time seemed to have slowed down and I found myself in deep contemplation about whether to eat the maraschino cherry that sat on top of the ice. But as I was thinking about the cherry, I felt a hand on my shoulder and as I turned on the bar stool, I instantly recognized him, Stephen was standing there before me.
It seems strange to me now, but my very first thought upon seeing him was that he was not as tall as I had imagined him... Although we'd never discussed our height or any aspects of our appearances, I was genuinely surprised that I was good bit taller than him. I remember he was casually dressed, yet there was a distinctive "crispness" about his appearance. He was wearing blue jeans and a fitted white dress shirt that highlighted his broad shoulders and trim waist. He was well groomed from head to toe and I could smell his cologne and it was as intoxicating as his appearance. I thought happily, the photo in his profile was indeed of him. He was quite handsome and I felt myself begin to blush as my blood ran warm in my veins and what must have been a very happy smile appeared on my lips.
"Christopher...?" he said to me as I stumbled to get out my well practiced greeting... Instead, I said, "Yes... Stephen...?" And then we were both smiling broadly as he extended his arm and I shook his hand. He began to apologize that he was a little late, but I looked at my watch and said, "No, you're right on time, it's exactly 7:30." Then, although he hadn't taken a seat, the bartender came over and asked what he'd like, and Stephen said, "Nothing thanks." Then he asked me, "Are you ready to eat?" I said, yes and he turned and signaled to the hostess who came over and seated us in a corner booth with a round table. At first we were both kind of clinging to the opposite open ends of the booth such that the full width of the table was between us, but then he slid further around towards the middle and invited me to do the same by motioning for me to move over on the seat next to him. I moved closer and we started to talk...
When the waiter came with the menus, we had both become so comfortable and engrossed with each other, that we didn't even notice him until he placed the menus in front of us. As the waiter told us of the specials, I think he realized that we were on a date, his own smile gave it away. As he asked about drinks, Stephen asked what I'd like, I said a Pepsi and he ordered ice water with lemon. When the waiter left to get our drinks, Stephen said he likes to drink a lot of water and always has lemon. That became my first mental note about his likes and dislikes, and as we talked, in the back of my mind, I carefully recorded it as an important fact. As we perused the menu, he asked what I'd like, telling me, "Have whatever you want, this is my treat!" And we talked about what was on offer, he settled on a New York Strip Steak and I chose Roasted Garlic Chicken Fettuccine.
When the waiter returned, he still had that "knowing" smile on his face and it didn't bother me at all. I was in the midst of my coming out to my family and friends and it felt good to be out and about in the world, just being myself and being unafraid. As he sat the drinks on the table, he asked, "Are we ready to order gentlemen?" and Stephen immediately said, "Yes, we are... I'll have the New York Strip medium well with the loaded potato and can I get asparagus with that?" The waiter said, "Yes, you can, and for you Sir?" and before I could speak, Stephen said, "He'd like the Roasted Garlic Chicken Fettuccine." No one had ever ordered for me that way, but when he did, it confirmed in my mind (and for our waiter) that yes, we were a couple out on a dinner date. And in that moment, I felt more human and truly alive than I had at anytime ever before in my life. It was a moment I've never forgotten... a moment of true happiness and joy recorded in the annals of my mind to be remembered forever.
Later that evening, after enjoying our meals and an incredible conversation, as the waiter brought the check, I asked if he could package the rest of my entrée as it had been a really large portion. He said, "Of course, Sir" as he took my plate away while Stephen looked over the check and placed a credit card in the folio. The waiter brought back a small bag with handles which inside held a black foam dish with the rest of my fettuccine. Stephen and I talked and laughed and enjoyed each other's company for a good while longer before we finally decided it was time to go. As we left the restaurant, I asked where he'd parked, and he said, "Just around the corner..." I offered to drive him to his car since I was parked right across the street. He agreed and got in, and I drove him around the building to where he'd parked his car.
We sat there in my car talking for a few minutes more, neither of us I wanting to part from the other. In that first evening together, it was as if we'd been old friends reunited after some long separation. But reluctantly, I finally decided it was time to go as I told him how much I'd enjoyed our time together and how I hoped we'd do it again soon. He promised we would as he gently brushed the back of my hand which was resting on the seat between us. "I'll call you," he said as he opened the door and then reached back in for the golden candy box on the dashboard. I'd given him my gift before I pulled away from my parking space across from the restaurant, and the warm smile on his face when I placed it in his hands brought joy to my heart. He said thank you again as he closed the door, and I watched him get into his own car and drive away. I didn't fully realize it then, but as he left that night, along with the golden box, he took with him a piece of my heart that I never got back. But I was happier than I could remember ever being before as I drove myself home while replaying in my mind's eye all the moments of what I still remember to be one of the most wonderful nights of my life.
When I got home, I took the foam dish with the remnants of my meal from the bag and put it into the refrigerator. The next day at work, I enjoyed the fettuccine for lunch, but as I went to throw-away the foam dish, I stopped myself. Instead I carefully washed it and brought it back home that evening and I put it away at the top of the cupboard. Even then, I realized it would become a precious memento of the day of our meeting. As I looked at it again tonight, I remembered the joy I felt as I went to bed thinking of him late that night... It was Wednesday, September 27th 2006 and nothing was ever the same afterwards.
I am always remembering...
Epilogue: I first wrote this some years ago, and now it's been 15 years since that fateful evening... I thought on that night that it was finally the morning of my life, the beginning of love's dreams. But as it turned out, it was merely the beginning of my heart's longing for he who promised me everything but could never give enough. Yes, I still have the foam dish and I'll look at it again this evening as I've done every year on this night. And now, my greatest fear is that I may not live long enough to forget.
