Dinner was sooo yummy, at a hip restaurant in downtown Andover named Glory. I had the "roasted organic free-range half chicken with potato gnocchi, crisp pea tendrils, and green peppercorn crema," and he had... the same! (Minus the crema.) We had different desserts, though -- he had "medium rare chocolate cake, with toasted almond encrusted ice cream and coconut crema," and I had peach panacotta, which arrived sitting in a pool of decadent blackberry sauce.
The chicken was tender and velvety; the gnocchi were almost light, with an amazing texture and taste; the sauce was rich but not heavy; and the crispy pea tendrils were not crispy at all. I couldn't finish the chicken, but I don't care for dark meat anyway. Dessert was cool and creamy and just as good as the entrée, and I managed to eat nearly 3/4 of it, until my teeth began to hurt from the sweetness and I put down the spoon.
We talked and talked, and it turns out he reads a lot (but not fiction.) Then we went for a nice medium-long walk (maybe 45 minutes? If felt like 20 but was longer according to the clock) in the misty night. I would have walked more, but my heels wouldn't allow me to. (I explained that I just had to wear cute shoes to complete my outfit or I would have been able to walk more, and it probably sounded like I was fishing, because he said, "They are cute!") No real compliments from him about me though, although he did compliment the back support in my car.
Also, no kissy-face. Not even hand-holding. At all. But he did go in for a (quick) hug of his own accord when we met (I was prepared to do a continental-style kiss, but he swooped in and out before I could even pucker) and then when I dropped him back at his car at the end, we had a funny awkward moment when he leaned in to hug me, except I was still strapped in, and then I unstrapped, and we did that back-and-forth "I'm going to hug you now" thing that you see in coming-of-age movies. The parting hug was stiff -- I didn't know where to put my hands (above his? below?) and my car isn't exactly palatial, so there was not a lot of room to maneuver. When he left the car he said, "So, talk to you." Hmm.
During our date, I flirted both on a general and specific basis, but he didn't take the bait. Examples:
- When I told him I really liked his voice and that I could probably listen to it all day, he said no one had ever said that to his before. Instead of flirting back, he started talking about the radio.
- When he mentioned a movie he owned, I said "I'd love to see it" (pause for eyelash bat) and he said, "Ok!" but not, "Ok, what about Saturday?"
- While walking, we talked about general stuff and I asked some leading questions and he answered them completely straight.
Upshot -- he's a really good talker, and totally interesting, but... does he think I am attractive? I looked very nice (dare I say "classy"?) tonight in a cream-colored v-neck sweater, black pants, the shoe-boots, diamond earrings, and an amazing make-up job (if I do say so myself) so it's not as if I was a schlub. He was dressed appropriately too, in jeans, somewhat clunky Hush Puppy style shoes, and a button-down (blue? gray? Some murky guy-ish color.) So reader, stay tuned for the next installment of... (cue dramatic male voice) A Clever Cat's Love Life...! Coming soon to a blog site near you...