My First Date

Ok, well, it is not really my first date ever, but it sure feels like it. The last date I had was...feels like never, but it was almost two years ago in October. That is if I don't count the horrible experience with the guy I met on some website for gay men over 40 that I was so excited about and it turned out to be a non-date because when he got to my place he told me he had a stomachache and just stayed long enough to let me see that I was glad that he wasn't interested in me and left. Oh, there was another internet disaster date about a year or so ago. When was that...? Again not worth counting.

But this casual encounter I had today was by far beyond better than anything closely resembling a date I ever had.

For those who are not current, I met a guy named Hernan on Sunday when I was sitting alone in a cafe. We chatted briefly and I found out he is a playwrite. Turns out that is true. So we had this date for today after I got out of school.

I got a text message from him around 2 p.m. It said - "I will wait you after 4 - don't you? Besos, Hernan"

It was very sweet. So I called him after I got out of school and asked him for his address again. Good thing I checked because the address I wrote down last night was 705 Cabrera, but today I noticed he was saying a 4 - turned out it was 4705, and he gave me the cross street, which turned out to come in handy with the taxi driver.

I went to his place, which is in Palermo, a new, up and coming trendy neighborhood. There is Palermo Viejo (old Palermo), Palermo Soho, Palermo Hollywood and just Palermo. We were in Palermo Soho, which I thought was Palermo Viejo and I have no idea what Palermo in general is. It's kind of like that here, all of these neighborhoods have names and then there are places which have no names or those that have two - all depending on who you are asking. Kind of confusing.

So I went to his apartment, which was a very cute little two-bedroom apartment. Spacious, but small, very nicely painted in different colors with cool, modern furniture and a computer with a huge screen. Turns out one of his hobbies (or addictions) is DJ-ing. So, as soon as I got there, he was in front of his computer mixing different music for me - kind of techno, but he actually said it is not techno, so I called it post-techno. It was nice - some of it kind of avant-gardy, some of it very relaxing, some with lyrics and some ambient. He kept popping up and clicking on his screen and putting music in his cue.

So we sat and had coffee at his place and chatted before going out for a walk. He took me to some neighborhood joint that had exposed brick walls, big couches and chairs and some wooden tables set up. Very trendy, modern and chic, but really comfortable with the lighting and the music. He ordered two glasses of wine and an appetizer tray that had pate, polenta, olives, fried potatoes and mozzarella di buffalo. The server poured our wine out of a white pitcher that looked like a big coffee creamer and was shaped like a penguin. Hernan said those kinds of things remind people of their childhood and are becoming more common in these kinds of places nowadays. It added a nice whimsical touch. The wine was delicious.

It was so much fun. I felt like I was where I should be. I asked him about things like 'conchetta' and why people eat gnocchi on the 29th of each month. He asked me about my childhood and past relationships. I felt like I was in therapy. I've heard that therapy is big here, and this could explain what it is that people are talking about in cafes when they look at each other so intently. No matter what we talked about, the conversation was easy and effortless, and I enjoyed talking to and listening to him. We hung out there before returning to his place where he tried to help me with my homework for tomorrow, I helped him with a letter he is writing to get a visa to go to Canada for two months, and then we split - he off to a dinner, me off to head home.

It was the perfect date.

So, now here is my question. Why is it that as soon as I step onto foreign soil I feel like I am desirable, but when I am in San Francisco, home to a gazillion available gay men, I feel invisible and am more comfortable in my apartment with a bowl of popcorn - the highlight of my week being "Bill Moyers Journal"?

Here is this guy, who is 33, considerably younger than me, an accomplished playwrite, intelligent, easy to talk to, funny, attractive, financially independent with a very bright future, living in a very interesting place, who spots me in a sidewalk cafe and has the nerve to come up and initiate a conversation with me and then arrange a date. Now, I'm not going to say that would never happen in San Francisco, but I think my chances of being kidnapped by terrorists and sold into white slavery are greater.

Tonight was a really beautiful evening outside. The leaves here are still in the process of dying, like late fall, so there are yellow and brown leaves on the trees and still lots of leaves in the streets. The air was thick and damp tonight as the worst fog they've experienced in 25 years still hangs around. It was really magical walking around Palermo (Viejo, Soho, general, wherever we were) - the streets were empty, Hernan thought because of the weather - but stores were open and lit up, some with little twinkling lights in their windows, and the fog wet the dying leaves and moistened the streets and the buildings, the smell of wet leaves and pavement, the feel of the fog, the visual richness created by the fog dancing around the street lights and twinkling lights in the stores, all creating a very magical and romantic mood for my date.

I told Hernan how much I am enjoying the magic of these first few weeks when everything is new and before I start to get tired of the smoke and fumes from traffic, the spotty service in restaurants and the difficulty in getting things done that are so simple back home, but for now, it is magic, and it is within this magical time that I had this date tonight. Perfect!

Another thing I really liked about Hernan, and which I've noticed about others here (in particular the teachers) is that he really loves his country. When I said I like the wine, he said, "Oh, I love the wine here!!", when I asked him about tango, he didn't hesitate to enthusiastically tell me his version of the beginnings of tango (seems everyone has a version). He was very excited about talking about things here, and it was really fun asking him questions about his country. The same kind of attitude would seem strange in the US I think. I don't know if I can explain this well. I think in SF we might be able to get excited about certain parts of the city or about different foods, or even the politics of the city, but I don't sense the same love of place there that I do here.

I went to Cinema Cafe after saying good-bye to Hernan. I have noticed that when we go to Cinema Cafe, we are the only ones who get this shiny blue table runner on our table and either a basket of stale rolls or a tray with potato chips, peanuts and fried chinese noodles. This is what is called a "cubierto" or cover, and we get a cover charge added to our bill - in this case maybe 3 pesos or one dollar. But my question is why it is only we who get this "special service". Today I looked at the waiter when he was laying it out to see if there was any indication that I might refuse this royal treatment. Tomorrow I will ask Marcela.

Today we had Fernanda as our teacher. This was the 2nd time we had her. The class was better than last week. We did some different things, but still spent a lot of time just talking about whatever came up. It felt like we were wasting time and for me in particular was frustrating because the more vocal students like Cynthia and Mike, easily dominate the discussion. I think I am going to suggest to Marcela that they try to find ways to pair us so that we get more opportunities to practice.

I just got a text from Hernan - I sent him one thanking him for the evening - his response "Besos la pase muy bien, dulce suenos, y manana hablamos" - rough translation - 'kisses - it was fun, sweet dreams, we'll talk tomorrow"

Sweet - everything about this place is really sweet.