Double Blind Date

"Judging by that wine glass and your professional demeanor, you weren't much of a partier in college," She said. I felt a little self-conscious and finished the last of my wine. I might not have had quite as much as Riley, but I was a lightweight. I wasn't feeling it too much yet, but I knew I would before long.

"I guess I wasn't," I said, "Every once in a while Kim would convince me to..."

"Kim as in Hot Kim? You've known her for like ten years?" she asked. It was still such a strange nickname, though I had to admit that Kim was a beautiful woman.

"Yeah, longer really," I said.

"Does this seem like...in character for her?' Riley said, switching back to our earlier guess as to our friends' motive. "Like I can't imagine Eric doing this, is Kim a schemer? I've only talked to her twice."

"No," I said, thinking about my friend, who was sweet and kind and sensitive, "No, not like her at all. She is a lovely person." I said, being more honest than maybe I should have.

"So weird," Riley said, placing some sort of fried puff ball into her mouth and chewing, "Oh God!" she said, spitting it back out into her napkin, "Not nearly as weird as that!" I laughed so loudly that people in other booths looked over and I quickly quieted, though I leaned in towards Riley and kept laughing.

"I think it was some sort of sea food," I said while laughing.

"I think it was locker room feet and burnt hair!" Riley said, causing me to laugh again, "god damn hipsters and their weird ass food." She finished ruefully.

"At least it's free," I said and Riley raised her glass. I found my glass of wine and the new bottle, and decided to join her.

I suppose it would be tedious to go over the conversation we held at dinner at length. Not to say that the conversation was tedious, far from it. Just, that the blow by blow is not necessarily essential to the story here. A few more appetizers came and eventually our gigantic meal arrived. There was far too much food to eat and soon we were both stuffed.

The whole while, we carried on a lively conversation. Mostly I spoke about work, because it was really the only thing that I had to talk about. I felt bad, like I was boring her and also driving home to myself that I had no real life. But Riley seemed genuinely interested both in my job and in me as a professional (as well as a person). She asked me for professional advice and I got the feeling that despite her slacker appearance, that she had large ambitions for herself. And the acuity of her questions indicated that she had the perceptiveness necessary to achieve those ambitions.

Regardless, I didn't need to worry too much if I was making boring conversation, as Riley spoke enough for two. I learned that Riley was one of six children, the youngest. I learned that she grew up in an outer suburb of the city and that her parents had nearly disowned her when they learned she took a job at a secular record label. She jokingly said that she couldn't tell if her father was angrier that she'd chosen to work in a "sinful" medium or that she had chosen a profession in a field ripe for extinction. Her mother, whom it was clear she hated, revered, and loved deeply all at the same time, had just feared for her soul. She explained that she convinced them that it would be both a chance to spread the word of God and also to learn transferrable business skills and they had relented. All of Riley's stories were uproariously funny, even the ones that should not have been. Despite the monopoly she placed on conversation (which grew more overwhelming she drank) I wished I could hear more about her. I found her absolutely fascinating and undeniably cool.

The whole while we were talking and eating we were also drinking. About an hour into our "date" we had ordered a third bottle of wine. This was a cheaper bottle (we decided to take it easy on Kim and Eric because we were having fun) but it was arguably stronger than the first two. By the time we both abandoned attempts to finish eating, we were both pretty well drunk. Riley suggested that, instead of buying a dessert, which we couldn't eat, that we head to the bar and "drink" our dessert. Normally, I would decline such an offer. I never much liked liquor. But I was already drunk and eager to extend my positive mood and Riley's attitude was absolutely contagious. So I agreed and we moved back. I can't remember if I had two or three shots of tequila before, I came to my fateful realization for the night, but I remember how it happened.

Riley and I were sitting on the far left side of the bar, we both had a shot of tequila in our hands, as I remember it, and I was laughing at something that she had said (though I can't recall exactly what it was, she made me laugh a lot that night). I was feeling more loose and uninhibited than I had in years. Maybe ever.

"Okay look," Riley said, "It is a simple sequence. First, the salt. Then the tequila. Then the lime. Last time you did it backwards, and you have to do it right."

"Will I not get drunker if I do it in the wrong order?" I asked playfully.

"No. And you'll prove once and for all that my dream of opening a drinking school is dead as I lack the capacity to teach drunks," she said and I smiled. She was standing up at the time, just barely resting her ass against the bar stool. She sort of towered over me as she instructed.

"Well I'd hate to do that!" I slurred, "Okay, tequila, lime, salt." I said. I can't remember if this was a joke or I really didn't remember.

"No! Salt, tequila, lime. Watch!" Riley said. She quickly licked salt off of her wrist, pounded a shot of tequila, and finished it off with squeeze of lime. Her face contorted in agony. Why do people do this? "See, easy."

"Right," I said, "Lime, Salt, and then Lime,"

"You didn't even remember tequila that time!" Riley laughed and then she pushed away from the bar, "Okay, do not drink that in the wrong order. Just wait for me. I am going to run to the little girl's room, I am going to come back and get another drink, and show you how this is done. Got it?"

"Got it. Get another drink, go to the bathroom, show me how it's done," I said, purposefully mixing the order this time (I promise). Riley laughed and slapped my arm playfully.

"You've got some weird ideas Ash. You figure out the bathroom on your own when the time comes," she said and then turned to walk towards the bathroom. As she walked away I found my eyes follow her. I noted the way her hair cascaded messily down her back, the feminine narrowness of her shoulders, the way her figure sloped down from her armpits to her thin waist, and then ballooned back out in an hourglass shape. The swell of her ass in her tight jeans and the way her legs looked long and delicate in the denim. In short, I was checking her out and found myself...liking what I saw.

I guess I was drunk and normally I wouldn't have put much stock into those thoughts (I figured any woman could objectively respect the beauty of another woman's form, it didn't mean anything), but one idea in particular caused me to pause. As my eyes scanned over Riley's ass as it saw high and first in her pants, I had thought, "she's got an amazing butt, it looks like Kim's when she was in college."

At first, this idea barely registered. Just one thought amongst many. But then I began to think of how strange it was that I had decided to compare physical attributes of my new friend with that of my old friends. And as I thought about that, I realized that it hadn't been the only thing. I realized other thoughts I'd had during the course of the evening, "She has a lilting laugh, like Kim," and "She rubs her lower lip with the back of her thumb, like Kim," or perhaps most damning, "she has a dirty sense of humor, nothing like Kim." Even when Riley was nothing like Kim, I found myself making that the point of comparison. It was like I was using Kim as the measuring stick by which to gauge Riley. And as I thought of that, I realized it wasn't just Riley. I compared everyone to Kim. She was the universal constant.

I felt extremely strange coming to that realization and I placed my elbows on the bar, trying to figure out what it was, exactly, I was grasping at. Thinking about Kim made me remember why I was here, the "prank." But now drunk, and no longer horribly embarrassed, I no longer felt that this explanation for the situation made any sense. Strangely, the drinking had cleared my mind a bit, allowed me to look at the situation clearly. Kim wouldn't do something just to hurt me. She wouldn't have found it funny even if it happened by accident. Eric and Kim hadn't been pulling a prank. Hell, they left money on the table for us. So what were they doing?

Suddenly, my conversation with Kim earlier in the week, when she convinced me to go on this date, flooded back to me. And listening them in my memory, without denial and discomfort I had felt in the initial event, allowed me to hear things that I hadn't heard before.

Kim said: "I can't sit by while you choose to be miserable," and "I think that you always date...the wrong kind of people...and are miserable, that you think the absence of misery is happiness." She asked "Ash, how often do we see each other? How often do we talk?" Perhaps most importantly she'd said, "You are grasping for something here, with me, that my family and I just cannot provide for you...You need... you need more than I can give you as your best friend." And she summed it all up saying "I think you want something that you don't even know that you want and cannot understand."

I stood up quickly from the bar stool, almost losing my balance. The bartender looked over at me quizzically, perhaps wondering if I was alright. But the shot of adrenaline I felt now had done wonders to mitigate my drunkenness. I cannot completely or fully describe what I was feeling at that moment, the emotions were too chaotic. All I can say was that I felt an intense existential embarrassment that had attendant branches of fear, self-loathing, confusion, shame, and surprise.

I felt like some sort of feral animal, caught play-acting like a human being. I know that makes no sense, but that was the totality of my emotion. And, as an animal, I quickly slipped into fight or flight mode. And the only thing in the world that I wanted was to be away from this place. To go back to my home, close the door, and die. That is not youthful dramatics. At that moment, the weight of my life was unbearable and while I did not want my existence to cease, it felt like it would be easier if it did.

"I am on Kim and Eric's tab," I yelled, in a crackling voice, at the bartender. He turned to me, confused. He'd been speaking with someone else. I didn't care. I felt tears in my eyes, tears that I could not adequate explained, and I turned and ran towards the door. Still a little drunk, I bumped into chairs as I moved quickly. I reached the table where Riley and I had eaten, grabbed my purse, and then I quickly made my way for the door and out into the street.

It was cold outside and I could see my breath steaming out of my mouth as I stumbled out into the dark night air. It hadn't been that cold when I arrived, but early fall was turning to late fall without the sun, it grew cold. I didn't know what time it was, but I took a deep breath and steadied myself. Then I oriented myself towards my condo and started to walk.

I didn't get very far when I heard someone calling my name. For a split second, I know it is crazy, but I thought that it was Kim. But then I heard it again, "Hey Ash? Ash? Are you alright?" It said and now I recognized it as Riley's voice. I realized I'd just abandoned her in the bar. I turned quickly and she was standing about twenty yards behind me in the doorway to the restaurant.

"I..." I started but couldn't finish. I didn't even have any idea what I was going to stay. The urge to get away came over me again and I started to turn and walk away.

"Ash? What the Hell? Was it something I said? Hey hold on!" I heard Riley say. I just kept moving. I figured she'd go back inside and find someone else to talk to. I couldn't be company right now. Maybe she'd meet a man in there and at least it would be a happy story for her. Maybe this date would be a strange story she told her kids someday about how she met their father and I would be a little color thrown in.

"Ash stop, why are you running away? I wasn't trying to offend you, drink your fucking Tequila any way you want!" Riley said and now I heard her right behind me. Riley had run after me. I stopped walking, sighed, and dropped my head. I was going to have to actually tell her to go away. I turned toward Riley and she was standing about five feet behind me. The street was completely empty and it was now very dark. Riley was standing under a street light, leaning against the pole and it seemed like the rest of the world existed as an impenetrable blackness around the light. Riley had a concerned look on her face and had her arms crossed over her breasts in the cold.

"I'm...sorry," I said finally, I walked back towards Riley and stopped when I too was standing underneath the light, just next to her.

"You don't have to be sorry if you just tell me what I did?" Riley said, she sounded very concerned. I wonder if her sort of brash attitude, which I enjoyed, was off-putting to some people. Maybe she had a fear of driving people away and I was playing into that fear. I felt an intense guilt and shook my head.

"No, no you didn't do anything," I said, "It was me, it was all me." I didn't want to say any more than that. We stood in silence for a few minutes. I was shivering in the cold and I could see Riley shaking as well. Finally, she spoke.

"Hey I've gotten the old 'it's not you, it's me' thing at the end of a dozen dates," Riley joked, "but I usually get a little more explanation." I winced when she called it a date and her features softened. Riley looked at me deeply for several seconds, "What is it Ash? Come on, we've had fun tonight, we are kind of like friends already, let me know why you ran out of that place while we were laughing and having a good time. I can listen."

I considered for a moment just making something up, just some lie to cover over everything and get home. The desire to do this was so overwhelming that for a second I opened my mouth to explain that I was sick. But I looked into Riley's eyes. I could feel a sort of...I don't know, empathy or understanding pouring out of her. I could feel her sort of going out to me. And she was right we'd had fun that night, but more than that I'd felt some connection to her that I couldn't really understand. She deserved to know the truth, she was in the same boat as me. More importantly, I wanted to tell the truth. To get this realization out of my brain and out into the world.

"I..." I started and my voice sounded choked, but Riley nodded and looked at me inquisitively, "I realized tonight that I am...sexually attracted to my best friend Kim. I think I am infatuated with her," I finally managed to say. Riley jerked back like she'd been hit.

The effect on me was even greater. Ever since I'd had my sort of dawning of knowledge in the bar, I had avoided actually, explicitly thinking about what it was that I was thinking. I had sort of walled it up, one last ditch defense by my denial. But saying the words out loud made it undeniable. I desired my best friend, I wanted to love her and make love to her.

Thinking that caused a dozen scattered images to flitter through my brain, things that Kim had clearly noticed even when I did not. I remembered watching a movie with Kim in college and cuddling up extremely close to her, actually putting my head on her shoulder. I remembered going to the beach with her one year and conspicuously wiping sand off of her ass. I remembered driving to a concert with her once when Eric was sick and couldn't make it and actually saying that I wished it was always just the two of us. Perhaps most damning, I remembered her picking me up at the airport once after a long business trip, we'd hugged at I'd held her a little too long. I'd gone to kiss her on the cheek, but leaned too far and kissed the corner of my mouth. We laughed it off, but it hadn't totally been an accident.

Now, these were just a handful of moments across a relationship that spanned a decade and a half. Each event was a tiny little bit of my life that by itself was largely meaningless. I hadn't even realized that there was a pattern. But, now the first time thinking of these events cumulatively, I suddenly felt pathetic, transparent, and stupid. Obviously, Kim had seen these isolated events and discerned what I could not. She knew I loved her in a way that was far different from the way she loved me. And so she'd...tried to make me understand. Oddly, this made me both intensely ashamed but also made me love Kim even more. Not embarrassed or disgusted by me, she just tried to help me. That was the Kim I knew, not the prankster. But I was still pathetic.

Riley was still looking at me, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly ajar. She was still shivering, but her focus was entirely on me now. I realized I owed her a little bit more.

"I'm really sorry. I wasn't trying to leave you like that...I mean I was but it wasn't about you. I think that my friend realized that I had feelings for her and so she set me up on this date with you. I don't think it was a joke, I think she was trying to help me. But when I realized it, I just needed to leave. I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I don't even know why they picked you, maybe they thought because you were young and sounded rebellious...I don't know. But I was just trying to leave before anything got awkward." I spilled it all out, trying to be truthful but to say as little about myself as possible. I noticed Riley's eyes drop and I figured that she understood. She was shaking her head. I felt dirty and ashamed. I hoped this meant I could now leave.

"It all makes sense," Riley whispered and a winced. Had she been able to tell I was attracted to women too? Was I the only one who didn't know? "The Christmas party," she said.

"What?" I asked. Riley looked up at me. I saw something familiar in her eyes, confusion or something different. She was taking deep breaths and gulping. What was going on?

"Last winter, at the office Christmas party," Riley said and then paused for a minute, not letting her eyes meet mine, "I got really drunk. I always get drunk in social situations. I always act the same, drunk or sober, but at least when I am drunk I don't feel embarrassed about it. Anyway, I got into a yelling match with some secretary from a different department and Eric had grabbed and pulled me into his office. Everyone got a laugh about it.

"Once we were back inside, Eric calmed me down, got me to realize that I was going to get myself fired. I was really pissed at him at first, but he was really sweet about everything. So I started talking to him about how I used to get in fights all the time when I was drinking in college and that got me reminiscing about college. You know how it is when you are drunk, and you just want to talk about stuff. And Eric was just fine to listen and everything. So I told him that when I was in school that Heather would keep me out of trouble, just like he was doing then.

"That got me talking about Heather, just general stuff, stories and everything. And I must've told him (I can't remember 100% if I told him, but I must've) about something that happened my senior year. Heather and I went out drinking and I got in a screaming match with some girl. As a result, we didn't get back to campus until late. Heather was only a sophomore so she still had a roommate. She didn't want to wake her roommate up, so I invited her stay in my room. Got back to the room and I passed out drunk on the bed.