Jillian's

We are on our way and the car ride has begun. There is some idle chatter which I guess is to be expected on a first date. We reach our first traffic light and before I get there it turns yellow. My mind, ever the exuberant marathon runner, is telling me a thousand things at once. But right now it’s wondering do we gun it or stop cautiously. Being a native New Yorker I know this light will turn red in oh only about 1.4 seconds. I am on a first date why not take the cautious route I think to myself. We approach the light and I decide to stop. The car comes to a complete halt and I look up…the light is still yellow. I begin to wonder if she noticed she had to have. I think the light stayed yellow just long enough to feel like a complete doof, which for your information is 4.6 seconds.

The light turns green and we are on our way. I have no idea where I’m going and this is a position I hate to be in. Not only do I have to deal with keeping up a conversation while driving on my very first date, I don’t know where I’m heading. I visualize making a wrong turn and ending up in the “seedy” part of town. I look like the perfect little preppy kid. If I were a carjacker lookin for a joy ride I’de carjack me. She tells me we have to go straight for a long while as she continues her story about how impressed she was with her class that day. (FFW is an assistant 1^st grade teacher). I’m not really listening I just know I’m supposed to go straight.

Then Error number two rears its ugly head (or this could just be her giving me some lip….you decide). We are going for quite some time when I ask, in a very unassuming manner, “so how much longer until we get there” to which FFW responds “am I boring you that much that you want to get rid of me already”…ouch. I’ve just been filleted, grilled, chewed and spit out. In fact that piece of meat would be better than me because at least it’s over with I still have to finish this date.

The rest of the car ride goes as best as could be expected. Except for almost missing one bearing left which I wasn’t told about (so much for just going straight), and we arrive in the parking lot at Jillians. I am driving my Dad’s 2001 nissan sentra with power lights (they are powered by the battery) and automatic accelorator (the car goes automatically if you hit the gas) everything else needs to either be cranked, pulled or clicked. She doesn’t lock the door, so I reach over and click it shut. (I will be doing this for the next 14 weeks).

Jillian’s is not such a large place with arcades all over the place. It’s like a casino for non-gamblers but ur givin your money away all the same. We walk in and head to the assistance/greeting counter. There are more bells and lights going off than at a Saturdy Night Fever dance off. I tell her I have no idea what im doing and she tells me that you have to buy a card to play all of the games. I say OK and tell the good man to put 20 bucks on the card. She asks me if I’m sure and suggests maybe putting on 15 dollars. I look back at the sign and realize we get more credits per buck with the 20 and stick with the 20.

I hand her the card and ask her what she would like to do as she walks straight to the air hockey table. I admit it seems like fun and we slide the card to get the puck.. We place our coats on the bar stool they have there and get ready. The air turns on and we begin our fun in a world without friction. Why is it called air hockey anyway? The premise is the same as soccer or football maybe it should be air soccer or air football (ovaltine). And even if you tell me because it uses a flat puck still, if a miniature game of soccer can get named foosball a miniature game of hockey can get its own name too (hooky?)…anyway I digress. I place the puck down and smack it, it come right back to me. I hit if off the side and score a goal. Not bad I think but don’t get to cocky it may just be beginners luck. I score two more points and am starting to think I should hold back a little. So I simply tap it now hoping she’ll score a goal. NO LUCK she just scores me two more. This is going to be harder (easier) than I thought. She leans forward and places her arm over her goal as if to block my next shot…was that a joke; an attempt at humor I BELIEVE IT WAS. She scores me another goal and I promise im still trying..Im soo not. Im beginning to think maybe shes living like three seconds in the past because her shots at the puck seems to be exactly where it was the moment before. Or maybe she sees another puck? Who know but I win and she gives me a congradulations.

“What next” I say hoping that there is something here that she would be relatively good at. A driving game catches my eye as we walk past it. “Why not this”. We swipe the card and start our engines. I let her win…What next...we play something else…what next…etc. you get the idea. This is not fun at all. I don’t know her I don’t have a chance to talk to her and I’m beginning to see that she thinks I’m more boring than Ben Stein in those stupid clear eyes commercials (or the wonder years take ur pick). I try to ask a question but she laughs in my face (see earlier this isn’t the first time). I explain that im seriously interested in what im asking and im not just asking it because it’s one of those questions everyone asks on a first date (I may have been though not sure).

We walk over to ski ball and win some tickets. We walk over to the hit the button when the bulb lights up and get some more. We walk over to the basketball hoops and let her beat me…this feels like a weird twilight zone episode. You are in an amazingly fun place but we are cursed to be dull and subdued. She tells me she was on her high school basketball team and that’s why she won. Finally something interesting! Oh really I say as I perk up ready to show her whose boss. “why don’t we go once more”. We do and I whoop her worse than the globetrotters do a high school basketball team. That WAS fun. (to be cont.)