Put A Label On It

So, I’m awkward. The awkwardness is born from anxiety. I’m not “at home” in social situations, especially when there is the hint of anything romantic. I wouldn’t say I’m hopeless. I mean, I can actually flirt pretty well if I’m feeling relaxed. On a good day, it only takes a drink or two to wash away the anxiety. Even then, I’m a little awkward. I make jokes and smile, but my eyes find the ground a lot. Or sometimes, I pick a random object in the room, and I pretend like I’m really super interested in this incredible piece of art and I try to start a conversation about it, knowing full well that this person does not give a shit about that mannequin head sitting on the bar or where it came from. I guess some people think my quirkiness is intriguing or cute or something, because I’ve had girlfriends. I’ve had long-term relationships. I can fill the silence pretty well once I’m comfortable.

Of course, once we get to that part, I start worrying about other things, like- those things we fill the silence with... are they meaningful? Are they enough? Is this person my person? This idea, you know, of “the one”- I like that idea. I look for that idea in every person I date. That’s a lot of pressure to put on someone, I know.

I think about this as I sit here waiting for her to join the room. My mind goes to far away places where I am sitting with her in some cafe in France, sipping fancy drinks, phones full of pictures from our countless adventures together, still in love after all these years… I have to reel it in. This is a first-encounter. A semi-blind date. I need to renegotiate my expectations. Ok, so, then I’m hoping we can quickly skip past the nerves and at least get some laughs in. That would be good. But even if that happens, then what?

I’m feeling very anxious which means I am feeling very awkward. I take a sip of wine.

I used to drink beer. And I used to know a lot about beer- the different fermentation processes, the breweries to support, which type of beer goes well with pizza or pasta or whatever. It was a good not-so-interesting topic to fill the silence with. But I stopped drinking beer about a year ago, because it started to make me sick. I began an affair with wine. The thing is, I know nothing about wine. I started buying it based on the labels. I’d roam the isle until one caught my eye- that’s an awesome label. I could easily talk about wine labels with someone for an hour- how I always thought it would be fun to design them, but how do you get that job? Is that a job? But, I don’t think anyone else would find it as interesting as I do, so it just stays a secret with myself.

I started doing this thing a few months ago. I’ve been making my own wine labels. I use one of those sticky name tag things and I draw my own thing and put it over the original. It’s a fun way to commemorate a special occasion. I did one for my birthday (a girl holding a bunch of colorful balloons, floating over the mountains), one for finishing a big project at work (a girl holding a flame-thrower at a hurdle) and a few more. Tonight, the wine is merlot. The label- a fancy cafe table with a laptop on it. All gray-scale except for a small red heart. A little glimmer of what could be. I call it Firstual Date- a combination of “First Date” and “Virtual Date,” and for the trifecta- my first ever virtual date. I know it’s an awkward combination; it doesn’t really work. But who cares? It’s just for me.

I take another sip and hold my breath as I hear the sound- the little “ding” that tells me she has entered the room. My heart tries to make a break for it, but I manage to keep it inside of me. I swallow hard. I might throw up.

She’s there. Her face, on the screen. This is so weird. I can feel it all- the excitement of something new, the fear of something becoming old. I wave. She smiles and speaks first. Her voice is sweet.

“Hi.”

She’s cute. I though my ex was cute, too. But that’s not enough.

My last relationship ended badly. Neither of us did anything “wrong,” but it just wasn’t right. She wanted to work it out, but I didn’t even know where to start, because it wasn’t like something happened. It was just like trying to fit the wrong puzzle piece in a space where it might go. You could make it work, but something would always be off.

Sometimes I think my expectations are too high. I crave deep understanding and I worry that no one is going to understand me that well. Being anxious and awkward is a whole lot of my life. Someone would have to be OK with it being a whole lot of their life. I used to believe in soulmates, but I’ve begun to wonder who out there would be- could be- perfectly equipped to handle me. And vise-versa.

After her, I took a break from dating. I’ve been single for almost two years, the longest I’ve ever been. And, I could have just stayed like that- alone, taking long naps in the middle of the day with my cat, operating on my own weird hyper-anxious level, not affecting anyone else. Because the thing is, once you start dating someone, your shit starts to affect them. But, the other thing is, when you’re single, no one is there to help you through your shit. I’m getting older and settling down. It would be nice to have a partner to hold my hand through things. And vise-versa.

Could this be that person? Again, I catch myself jumping- leaping- way too far ahead. Just start with Hi. Oh God, I haven’t even said Hi yet.

“Hi. It’s, um, nice to “meet” you” Yes, I do the air quotes. Of course I do. But, being a glass-deep, I don’t give too much thought to it. She laughs a little. Pity laugh?

“Yeah. I’ve been looking forward to it. So, how’s your day going?”

“Good. Just the same old stuff, you know- Worked a little bit. Watched Friends.”

“Oh yeah? I love Friends!”

She does? Is this a sign? I don’t know… I mean, it’s Friends.

“Me too! I’m obsessed…”

I am not going to lie. This whole virtual-date thing is very difficult to navigate if you’ve never done it before. For a while, I am distracted by myself. By that little one-by-one square in the corner where my face stares back at me. I am obsessed with how I look. I move the computer, tilt the screen until I can find the light that highlights my best features. Do I look good in this light? What is she saying? Can she tell that I’m checking myself out?

“...just not the same.”

“Right, yeah, I miss going out to places, too. I mean, I would much rather meet you in person, of course.”

“Same.”

“Well,” I pick up my glass. I’m feeling good. I got this. If nothing else, let’s just have fun tonight. “Cheers to the day we can meet in person.” She smiles. She’s still cute.

“Cheers to that.”

***

I’m laughing, I’m smiling. We talk about family, about college and clubbing in our early 20’s. We share coming out stories- her, at camp with her bunkmate and me, at a high-school sleepover. I’ve had a few glasses now. I’m in the middle of grilling her about music- we’re playful, we’re flirting- and I am not thinking. I am mid-sentence and I lift up the bottle to pour myself another glass. I lift it a little too high, and I see it. Her eyes move, just for a second, to what’s in my hand, and I start to panic. Oh no, Oh shit. Did she see it? She saw the stupid label. Ugh it’s so lame, why didn’t I just leave it on the counter?! Maybe she’ll just keep going, just keep talking… I carry on like nothing weird happened. Maybe she will, too. But then, when I finish telling her that no, Bob Dylan is actually good, if you don’t pay attention to his voice, she says it.

“Hey, what kind of wine is that? I didn’t recognize that label.”

Oh, awesome. She knows wine. She knows this isn’t a normal thing. I’m not a normal thing.

I don’t know what to say. I definitely don’t want to show her the bottle. Not now. Maybe not ever. It’s too weird.

“Um. I don’t know. Do you mind if we don’t talk about it?”

“Oh. Ok. Yeah, sure.”

Now it’s awkward. I mean, extra awkward. Of course she’s going to say it’s ok. What, is she going to pressure me to tell her? No. But, she’s human, and because of that, she isn’t just going to forget it. She’s wondering why.

I try to make small talk with her, but I can tell something is off. Like the puzzle. This is another wrong puzzle. What the hell. Nothing left to lose now, she already thinks I’m a freak.

“Ok, look. About the wine thing…”

“Oh, no it’s really ok.”

“I know, but. I just wanna… I just feel like…. Ok, here’s the thing. I’m kinda weird, so I do these things- these little things, like little random stupid things that no one else is supposed to know about. So, I do this thing where I get a bottle of wine for a specific reason, like, the premier of a TV show I’m excited about, and I make my own label for the wine. For that thing. I draw it on one of those sticky labels, and then I stick it on the bottle. So, this one, is, well… It was for tonight. For our date...”

I hold up the bottle so she can see it.

“It’s a play on First Date and Virtual Date. It’s dumb, I know.” I look down so I can’t see the reaction. The “Oh my god, are you serious, that’s so lame” reaction.

Silence. I don’t know how to fill it.

I can feel my face turning read, I am hot, sweating. Oh, well. At least it was a good experience. I look up, to meet her eyes, and just stare for what feels like the length of an entire movie that’s just about two people staring at each other. Is this that movie? Is this real?

I break first. I look down again, then around. Then I lift up my glass. I break out my terrible British accent, cause, hey, why not. It’s already at that level of bad.

“Well, hey. Cheers to a good try, eh?” I drink. And I swear I see a smile. She’s going to laugh. She’s going to tell our friends. They’re going to pity me. Then I hear that sweet voice.

“Oi, I think it was more than just a good try, mate.” If it’s possible, her accent is worse than mine. “I think I know a cheese that would go perfectly with that wine”

What is happening?

She slowly lifts up a board of three different cheeses, each one with a small hand-made little flag-shaped label- triangle paper on toothpicks.

“I’m a bit of a cheese-head. But I like to make these special boards, you see? For special occasions. Like, the premier of a TV I’m really excited about- which I did do, by the way. Or a virtual date I’m looking forward to.”

She holds each one up to the screen:

CompGOUDAr.

ParmeSIGN-On.

VIRmonTUAL Cheddar.

So, I’m in love.