Date Number Two with The Architect. I let him choose the restaurant. He chose Sunny Italy. He arrived early and was half-a-glass into the evening already by the time I got there. He was at the dark table again. I said maybe we could sit by the window. He noted that it will be dark soon anyway. And it’s more quiet here. (And I can’t see your wrinkles, I thought to myself.)
This evening went much the same as the first, aside from a different entree selection for me. I became keenly aware of The Architect’s over-used compliment, “You’re funny.” But he never laughed. He just quietly smiled and told me I was funny, alluding to the fact that if he was a laughing type, he’d be rolling on the floor due to my hilarity.
The awkward part of that was that I was never sure if I should say ‘thank you’ to his observation. It’s not like you thank someone for laughing at your joke. (Unless you are a stand-up comedian.) But I do say ‘thank you’ for compliments in the form of a sentence. Then I began to wonder if at a comedy club if he would laugh, or if he would just say, “They’re funny.” Then I returned to wondering how old he was.
On the dark street, Mr. Architect said we should do this again. I invited him to come to a musical at my university. Mostly so that I wouldn’t have to sit at that dark table again. He came. Some girls from my dorm saw us there together. They came up to say hello, which turned into quite a cumbersome conversation. The highlight was when they commented on his hat. I was hoping no one would notice.