Day 7 -- A Song That Reminds You of a Certain Event
"I Want to Hold Your Hand" -- The Beatles (1963)
What I consider to be mine and Tyler's second date, wasn't really a "date" in the traditional sense. We didn't go out to dinner or a movie or to the roller rink or whatever the kids are doing these days. We walked in the rain, holding hands.
By this time, Tyler and I had already been out on our first date to the coffee shop. We had been texting at night and flirting covertly at work. This particular day (the day of the second date), Tyler had to work the closing shift. I didn't work that day (or I did and it was the morning shift) so I went out to an early dinner with a coworker of ours named Amanda. I liked Tyler, but I wanted a second opinion. Since Amanda had known Tyler for far longer than I, I wanted her to tell me if there was any reason not to date him. If he was womanizer or a drunk, I wanted her to tell me so.
At dinner, she said nothing but good things and I felt more confident about the situation. She knew that Tyler liked me and wanted to see him happy, so that probably had something to do with it too. (I secretly hoped Tyler would ask Amanda about me and how I was when I was in a non-date situation.) After dinner--in which I had two beers--Amanda and I both had to use the bathroom, so why not stop by our place of work where Tyler just happened to be? I flirted shamelessly and Tyler was effected by it. He told Amanda "to get me out of there".
A little while later, Tyler texted that he wanted to see me after work. Unfortunately, I don't have one of those fancy phones that saves every text ever, so I'll have to paraphrase. He wrote something about just wanting to hold my hand. So I said I'd meet him after work where he dropped me off after our coffee date. I was still apprehensive about being alone with Tyler. To deter his possible advances, I wore unsexy clothes: a hoodie and my crappiest jeans. Well, unsexy to me. I was so thickheaded back then that I didn't realize the giant holes in my jeans were showing off my legs--which I didn't think were all that--but Tyler thought were hot stuff.
So, Tyler got off work and I met him in the parking lot by my apartment. We held hands. It was wonderful. Sweet. Romantic. Innocent. Perfect. We walked and talked for a long time. It began to rain, but we continued to walk. I love rain and didn't mind getting wet, but Tyler was still in his work clothes. He asked if it was all right if we went to his house so he could change. I said yes, but that I wasn't coming in. I waited in the car until he came out (with Simpsons artwork! But that's another post.) We drove back to my apartment and sat in his parked car and talked for several more hours. We cuddled and he touched my legs through the giant rips in my jeans...
Wait a minute. Aren't I supposed to be writing about a song?
Oh yeah.
"I Want to Hold Your Hand" is one of the Beatles' biggest hits. It's the song that shot them to stardom in America. It is a pop standard. It is a classic. I grew up listening to it. I grew up wishing that this song would come to life for me. Because when you're a kid, holding hands is a biggie on the spectrum of physical affection. As I grew older and other things on the spectrum of physical affection became more relevant to my peers, I still looked forward to hand holding. I wished that someone would just want to hold my hand. That someone would like me so much that touching my hand, interlacing his fingers with mine, would be all he needed. Tyler made that come true for me and thusly, whenever I think of that night, I think of "I Want to Hold Your Hand" and vice versa.
No comments:
Post a Comment