I grabbed a seat at the bar while waiting for the table and he arrived not five minutes later and slid onto the stool next to me, grinning broadly.
It was off to a wonderful start: lively, vivacious conversation and tasty food. He fired questions at me like an interviewer and his energy and interest were charming.
We covered so much ground with such intensity that I hadn't realized how long I'd been sitting bolt upright. Eventually I noticed my rigid profile and leaned back to catch my breath and in doing so, absentmindedly rested my wrists on the table.
He noticed me relaxing and his eyes crinkled warmly. He reached out for my hand in what was supposed to be a romantic gesture only... it wasn't so much a reaching as it was a snatching.
|Surprise! Let's hold hands?|
With my hand no longer available for further
|Myofascial trigger point release massage... you're doing it wrong.|
With NO warning, prelude, hint or sign, he grabbed my face with both hands and yanked it toward him.
Well I hate those scenes because no one kisses anyone by surprise. You see that shit coming.
|Saw it coming!|
So his face was coming in like a baseball and my skull was the bat. I quickly turned to avert the human projectile, ungracefully blurting an explanation: "I don't kiss on the first date!"
However, as demonstrated by the laws of physics, he had already garnered so much forward momentum that he was unable to stop. Newton's first law of motion states that a body in motion stays in motion unless acted upon by an outside force.
|Law of inertia, bitches.|
At the same time, extraneous energy was somehow dislodged to the table, knocking our dishes to the edge. They clanked loudly and threatened to upend their contents, drawing the attention of the entire restaurant to the sight of our romantic collision.