Home > Writing > Blogs > My Last First Date: How to land a husband on the first date
By Leslie Kay Ashe
Donâ€™t call it a date. I mean, if youâ€™re â€œjust friends,â€ then itâ€™s not really a date, even though after nearly a year of this whole going-out-after-work-with-the-crew thing, you didnâ€™t feel like inviting anyone else to come along this time, and even though youâ€™re seated in a dark, secluded corner of an upscale restaurant. But thatâ€™s definitely NOT a date.
Choose the garlic-chicken-alfredo pizza. Because itâ€™s not date, so who cares if you have garlic cheese breath.
Cross your legs in the middle of dinner and whack him with the heel of your shoe right in the shins, which causes him to spill his beer all over his food and his lap (and leaves him with a bruise that will last for more than two weeks).
When dinner ends, decide that youâ€™ll both swing by the bar to see if anyone else is around. But since this isnâ€™t a date or anything, decide to drive there in separate cars. (But since itâ€™s snowing out, he suggests that just to be safe, you should follow him pretty closely.)
Pretend not to pay any attention to each other at the bar and instead laugh it up with your girlfriends while sneaking nonchalant glances out of the corner of your eye.
Make an unintentionally loud announcement that itâ€™s getting late and you should really be heading home, but purposely avoid saying â€œgood-byeâ€ to him on the way out, and then pretend youâ€™re not disappointed when he doesnâ€™t follow.
Get a flat tire half-way home. Sit in your car for ten minutes with your cell phone in your lap wondering if it would be justtoo obvious to call him.
When he shows up to help and he admits that he doesnâ€™t know how to change a tire, laugh and say, â€œThatâ€™s OK. I do.â€ And when he says, â€œThen why did you call me to help?â€ Just shrug and say, â€œWhy not?â€
Have him keep track of the lug nuts as you put on the spare and try not to notice how good he smells sitting so close to you. And when you turn to say something to him and suddenly he kisses you, say to yourself, â€œSo, yeah, OK. Maybe not just friends.â€
On the way home, finally admit to yourself that youâ€™re madly in love and youâ€™re going to marry this man.
Leslie Kay Ashe is the pen name of an unpublished Orange County author who would rather die than put something so personal in her own name.