It didn’t take very long for me to dread going through customs. It seemed like every time, I did something wrong.
When I went through customs on my way to Dallas, I made the mistake of not knowing Chad’s address. So basically I didn’t know where I was going. And that = bad for customs officers.
This time when I went through customs, I had the address worked out thankfully, but I wasn’t sure who to say I was visiting.
So I just said I was visiting family.
After a few glances at me, back to my ID (at the time you didn’t require a passport to travel between Canada and the US) and a few questions about specifics, I was finally allowed through. And then I got to security and was “randomly chosen” for one of those more thorough pat-downs. Annoying. At this point I was so darn nervous I was worried I was coming across as ‘suspect’.
But I made it through and I hopped on a plane all by myself and headed 2000 miles south.
When I met Robert at the airport, the awkwardness had returned. I think a lot of it was just the fact that I’d spent 8 hours in planes and airports which meant I was tired, my hair was messy, and I smelled like plane. He decided to take me to The Olive Garden for dinner because I’d never been there. We didn’t have one in Saskatoon. It was nice. It was a chance to unwind before being paraded around his family.
We made the drive down to Freeport and finally arrived. When we got there, only Robert’s mother was home. I got the chance to shower before doing anything else. Except as it turned out, I forgot my hairbrush. So my hair situation did not improve much. It’s hard to feel self-assured when you’re in a strange place and your hair looks disheveled. I mean, I was trying to make some first impressions here, after all.
Robert and I retired to his room to watch a movie. We spent the first 20 minutes talking and chatting and trying to get past the distance that had been put between us. He remembered he had bought me a birthday gift. He wanted to give it to me now since he probably wouldn’t see me for my birthday (when he said that, he dashed a dream I had of him showing up at my door on my birthday). He told me to close my eyes and hold out my hands. The last time I’d done that for a boy, he put a slug in the palm of my hand. A box was placed in my hands and when I opened my eyes, I found myself staring at a white box that read ipod mini. It took me a second to realize it wasn’t a joke. My boyfriend of officially less than six weeks just bestowed me with a pink ipod mini. What the f^$%??? I opened it up and looked it over. He’d ordered it online so he’d had it engraved on the back with “Here’s a song for you, lovely.” which are lyrics from an Eisley song. I kinda wanted to die. I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to tackle him and kiss him. But….
What if he didn’t want to kiss me?
What if he only agreed to me coming to visit to let me down easy?
But he just gave me this wonderful gift! How could he not like me?
Finally we just found ourselves with our faces six inches apart, giggling nervously, when finally we just ripped the band-aid off.
After the first initial kiss. Things were much less awkward. We put on the movie to snuggle and relax but we ended up not even watching the last two thirds of it.
Do you think the first date or second date is harder? What makes the difference?
Tags: My story