It is lucky for me that my wife was ever born. Allow me to explain.
Her parents, Ginger and Bob, recently celebrated their anniversary. They reminisced about their first date. It was a blind date. It was a disaster. Nevertheless, Ginger gave Bob another chance — and the rest is history, including the birth of three children, one of whom I married.
Are you wondering why that might not have happened? If you were in Ginger’s shoes, one date like her first with Bob might have been enough.
I don’t blame Bob for being nervous. He was only 19 years old at the time, hardly a man of the world. He was out with the prettiest girl he had ever seen. It was a double date. His friend had fixed him up with Ginger, who, like his own date, was a nursing student. Bob had been skeptical about being fixed up with a girl he had never seen, but when he saw his date, he was well pleased.
He was well pleased, but not what one might think of as cool, in the sense of suave, as he was trying so mightily to be. He wanted to impress his lovely date. He did impress her, but not in the way he intended.
At some point in the evening, Bob got up from the table to go to the restroom. As he returned, his friend signaled Bob that his fly was unzipped. Bob got the hint. Subtly, after he sat down, Bob zipped his fly.
Later, he asked Ginger to dance. He stood up to pull out her chair. In the process, he pulled the tablecloth off the table, knocking over glasses, spilling drinks, and breaking plates — for Bob had zipped the tablecloth into his pants. What a sophisticate!
They are still laughing about it five decades plus later.