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We dance the entire thirty-minute set before the band goes on a break.
“Should we get a table?” I ask.
“Good idea, I’m kind of out of breath,” she answers.
I find a table a good distance from the dance floor. A server comes to the table, and I order a couple of Coca-Colas and some nachos for us to share.
“They bring you this huge stack of chips, smothered with cheese and chili.”
“Sounds like I’ll be breaking my diet tonight,” Samantha laughs.
Samantha is so easy to talk to. Every subject that I bring up, she’s got something interesting to say about it. And her humor- I mean, this girl is funny. She keeps me laughing for a good twenty minutes before the nachos come.
“Wow, look at that mound of chips,” Samantha says.
“It’s a fucking tower.”
“It’s at least a foot high!”
Ordering the nachos is always my way of testing the girl I’m with. Does she make excuses and just eat one or two chips? Or does she go whole hog and eat with abandon?
I take the first nacho chip and then wait for Samantha. She gets this real crazy look on her face and surprises me by taking the top half of the nachos off the tower and putting it on her plate.
She looks at me with a guilty face.
“I know, girls aren’t supposed to eat- especially on a date. But I love nachos!”
And that’s when I know that I really like Samantha. I love her enthusiasm about the nachos. Plus, I love the way she’s so honest with me. All the stress I feel about our threesome kind of disappears to the back of my mind.
I really like Samantha, and I think she’s a pretty great person to be involved with. Why am I so worried in the first place?
