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Yankees V. Red Sox

May 16, 2010

Not all dates are bad dates. While the bad dates make better stories, it is possible, given Americas love for romantic comedy, that the good ones do too. For this reason, I will bring out Colby.

My first date with Colby was a blind date. He was from Boston, very tall, dark and handsome and had a hot Boston accent and for the first time in a while I was excited for the date.
Colby suggested we meet to go ice skating in the park. I was psyched for this. I love to skate and used to play ice hockey when i was little so I knew I could hold my own on the ice. When Colby asked where I wanted to go skating, I suggested Lasker Rink. I had taken Bear skating there a bunch of times and thought it would be a good spot, away from the crowds at Wollman. It is right by the Harlem Meer. A completely desolate (read dangerous) spot of the park.
Right before the date Colby sent me a text.
“I will be wearing my favorite sequin Brian Boitano one piece.”
Funny, check. I loved him already.

It was an oddly warm day in New York City for January. I didn’t even need a jacket. I took a cab up to 107 street and entered the park. It was pitch black. As I walked deeper and deeper into the dark park I started to think of all the rules I was breaking:
Walking through the park at night, check. By myself and a girl, check,check. To meet a stranger , check, check, check. I suddenly got nervous, but ignored my instincts. Dumb, check.

In the distance I see a well-lit oasis in the scary dark rape rambles of the park. It was the skating rink. I walked as fast as I could, praying to arrive safely. Note to self: Buy mace. Addendum: Don’t make plans in the park at night with strangers.

I walked down the stairs into the rink and there he is. Cute, super super tall, and a smile that could light up the entire park. He helped me put my skates on and pulled the laces extra tight for me. Colby was also strong. So far so good. Colby discloses that he played ice-hockey for his law school team. I secretely think I want to race him. We walk towards the rink and the second our feet hit the ice he took notice.
“A girl who skates on hockey skates, pretty impressive.”
“Yea, I can whip your ass on this ice.” I fire back.
We are immediately best friends.

I don’t know what we talked about but Colby skated backward with the ease of an NHL player as I skated toward him and we spoke that way for a good solid hour. He confided in me that he was bummed I could skate so well as I didn’t need him to hold my hands. Something about it didn’t even sound cheesy or skeezy. Colby was normal and cute and I felt like I had known him forever.

We walked out of the park and Colby helped me put my jacket on. He was a total gentleman. We had so much to talk about. So much so in fact we sat on a random bench on fifth avenue and kept talking and talking until Colby suggested we grab some dinner. I jumped at the opportunity. Colby and I were now extending our date, and I actually wanted to.

We walked a little further and chose a restaurant that looked good and casual enough for Colby to wear his sequin skating unitard. Okay, he didn’t really wear it, but thinking about Colby now I can laugh at the idea of that. Dinner flew by and we shared our stories, our love for reality TV, our love for our children, and what we had learned about co-parenting with our ex’s. Most importantly, we realized we had the exact same sense of humor. I rarely think someone is funnier than I, but it may have been a tie. I loved it. Finally, a worthy adversary, I think to myself.

After dinner Colby walked me home. This was the first date who walked me home since moving to my new apartment. My doormen thought i was celibate. What would my doorman think? Why was Colby walking me home? How could I stop him from making it to my actual building. There was a deli on my corner.
“I am just going to go in here to buy something to drink.”
“Ok.” He said, and followed me into the store.
This wasn’t going as planned. I was trying to ditch Colby on the corner before the doormen could see him. I buy a Gatorade and start to say goodbye to Colby. Like a puppy who you just fed bacon, Colby is trailing along right next to me until we get to my building. I glance at my doorman and glance at Colby. Sigh.
“So, it was really nice meeting you.” I say.
“Yes, you too Darcy.”
We chit chat for a nervous minute or two, he offers me his nanny on Mondays, I wonder if this is what all dating divorcées do. I give him a hug and as I walk away I realized it was strange that Colby didn’t mention wanting to see me again. I thought our date had gone so well. Hmmmmm.

I got upstairs and suddenly realized I would be disappointed if Colby didn’t ask me out again.
He waited the standard one day and then called and asked me out for the next day. I said yes

I think it was my sister who called it first.
“YOU LOVE HIM!” She said one day while watching me text with Colby.
Or maybe it was the old lady in Starbucks who said something similar watching me read an email from him, “Who is it that is making you smile like that?” I was walking around with an eternal stupid grin that only love can give you.
But whoever called it first, from the day we met, Colby and I went out again and again and again until we fell in love. Which was not difficult to do. Over the next year Colby would teach me about love, loss, and the Red Sox. More on Colby later.
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