The Old Robe

In a little less than two hours Dan will arrive at my apartment. I’ve yet to hear for certain that the plans include mini golf, but I’ve been given a hint that mini golf is in my immediate future. Before we go, however, I’m planning to meet Dan at my front door wearing nothing but this mint-green, satinish, mid-thigh robe. This robe is not the epitome of high elegance. I paid some $20 for it about three years ago. I think I bought it at Kmart. I thought it was kind of sexy, but I’ve almost never worn it simply because it doesn’t keep me particularly warm.

Anyway, I’m not absolutely positive that mini golf has been on Dan’s mind, but I know that sex has. He jokingly -but earnestly- said as much. I really don’t like the thought of either one of us playing mini golf in a state of sexual uneasiness and stress, so I am going to take a shower, dab on a little scented body lotion, put on my robe and when Dan arrives, hide behind the opened front door and wave him in. The mini golf courses of eastern Massachusetts will not go out of business if we arrive 90 minutes late.

For the record, I know what is going on. I know that Dan and I are in the throes of an early-in-a-relationship mutual infatuation. After all, I am no longer 16 years old and I have been down this road before. But I know too that a lot of what Dan is as a person, I like. I know he is thoughtful, gracious, and he makes me laugh. I am not a person prone to loneliness, but in the moments when I might have felt a bit of emptiness or isolation, those few moments have been occupied with thoughts of Dan. So I’m going to delight in what we have at this place in time, as brief as that time may end up being. So yes, I know.