Elise went on a blind date with a seeing eye dog. A service dog as you were supposed to call them these days. Her friend Sunny set her up. Sunny, the daughter of some ex-hippies, thus her name, was blind, so Elise felt like she couldn’t be too upset with her friend, what with her disability and all. She wouldn’t be able to see the issue even if Elise explained it, her friend was such an open-minded and adventurous person.
Love is blind, Sunny was always saying. And she understood the irony, Sunny did! Reveled in it. She was an English major and loved puns. Elise, on the other hand, she was a social worker, and she always had the feeling the joke was on her, whatever happened.
Elise and the seeing eye dog met at a tapas bar after work. His name was Tim, and he was a yellow lab. It was late afternoon when she arrived and Elise was wearing her darkest glasses. She was sitting facing the window, but the sun was setting fast. Tim stood as she approached the table, asked her to sit down. The waitress came and they ordered Manhattans.
It’s silly to say so, Tim said. But Manhattans make me feel so damn Cosmopolitan!
Elise laughed, accidentally snorted. She quickly covered her mouth with her hand. She hated when she accidentally snorted while laughing, but the dog pretended not to notice.
That’s doggone funny! she said, stopped laughing on realizing her word choice.
She felt herself blush, devastated. But again Tim pretended not to notice.
The drinks came, and they sipped.
You can take off your glasses, Tim said. I’m not wearing my service vest anyway.
Elise laughed again, stopped herself this time from snorting. She took off the dark glasses, placed them on the table.
Wow, Tim said. You have lovely eyes!
They ordered appetizers. It turned out Tim was vegetarian, but he wasn’t judgy about it. Elise herself would have been a vegetarian if she had more will power, she had tried it twice, but always backslid for a burger when she was feeling depressed.
After tapas, they saw a foreign film at the arts cinema about a man who fell in love with a color, a sort of purple or red, depending on its mood. The movie was funny and sad and one of those rare films that was good and had a good ending. Obviously, they were from different worlds and it had torn them apart, but in the final scene, they found themself together on a westbound train. The man blushed and the color matched, and you had the sense they might give it a try…
They had drinks at the cafe near the theater, and Tim got her to try cognac for the first time. She sipped and made a face. Okay, she said, okay… I think I get it…
Then she saw him looking at her, his head cocked.
What? she asked him.
Nothing, he said. You have a lovely glow…
She sipped the cognac again: I could get used to this, she smiled.
After a second cognac, they switched to beer. They closed the cafe, ended the night with a cheap beer in a dive bar that was open until 4 am. Closed the night with a shot of good tequila.
No training wheels, she told him.
Never, Tim said.
Walking out of the bar, Tim stopped her, and she let him jump up. She leaned in, kissed his head, and he licked her cheek.
Well, she said.
I promise I haven’t licked my butt today, he told her.
She laughed, snorted.
I’m sorry, she said.
Don’t be, he told her. It’s cute.
Butt sugar, she said.
Butt sugar?
My ex used to call it that – he had a Golden Retriever named Honey.
Had?
She was older… she died not long before we broke up.
I’m sorry, he said.
She wiped her eyes. It’s okay, she said. It’s just she felt a little like mine after we were together nearly three years.
She was drunk, she knew it. I’m drunk, she said to herself, disappointed in her lack of restraint. She never let herself get this way with people she didn’t know. But they both were, Tim was drunk too, and she couldn’t stop laughing as they walked. Besides, she felt like she did know him. And for once, the joke didn’t feel like it was on her.
The next day, she would only remember pieces of it, taking off her heels while waiting for the Lyft. Giggling as they took turns squatting to piss on a fire hydrant. Tim lifted his leg and fell over. She squatted, winded up sitting on the curb, her underwear around her thighs, cackling.
The car arrived, and they stumbled, fell in the backseat, Tim crawling over her. The driver looked at them in the rearview mirror, a little too knowingly, but said nothing. Tim circled in the seat, and finally getting comfortable, stretched out with his head in her lap.
Then, the rush of city lights on the street as they rode. The radio barely audible, the hum of the tires on the road beneath them. She could have fallen asleep right there except for wondering, turning the thought over in her mind: would she seem too easy if when the car got to her house, she invited him inside to come inside? She wanted nothing more than him to lie down with her in her room, sleep next to her. Or maybe, if not next to her, maybe he would at least spend the night curled up on the foot of her bed.