First date jitters are no joke.

As mentioned in the “About” section, we met online, exchanged text messages and phone calls and then agreed to meet for dinner. The day came and I must have changed clothes at least four times – when you’re 57 and haven’t been on a date in six years . . .I almost called it off, I was such a mess. My college-age daughter ran outside to meet him when he got there as I picked my way across the yard. I didn’t expect him to come to the door since I knew he had MS and is wheelchair bound. (My house wasn’t exactly ADA compliant.)

Nerves.

We went to dinner at a Mexican restaurant in a neighboring town. I stepped out of the truck, and he soon joined me at the door, opening it for me. The conversation flowed easily enough – we had both taught in the field of HazMat for the same company, 16 years apart. Both of us had military experience, mine as a military contractor, him in Special Ops Airborne. The evening was working out to be less nerve wracking than it started. Again, when we left, he opened the doors, the truck door as well, and showed me how his hydraulic lift moved his wheelchair up and into the back of the truck. I felt that I had been blathering on incessantly and he would be ready to take me home, but instead, he suggested getting coffee.

We pulled into the local coffee shop drive-thru and that is where the incredibly awkward event took place. Sitting on the far side of the truck and being short, I couldn’t see the menu board of the coffee shop. So I slipped off the seatbelt and, steadying myself with one foot on the floorboard, got up on one knee in the seat and leaned forward to look out his window. He very courteously leaned back to give me a better view. And then . . .

My hands slipped off the center console where I had been balancing myself. In a short few seconds, with my hands flailing in the air, I grabbed the steering wheel with my right hand while the left hand was still waving wildly, looking for purchase. All I could envision was falling forward and grabbing his groin, but fortunately I was able to grab the center console again and keep from making an absolute fool of myself. I looked at him with mortification, only to see his eyes sparkling with laughter and a reassurance that this was the “best” first date ever.

Safely ensconced back in my seat with the seatbelt in place and a hot cider in hand, I was certain he could not wait to get me back home and relay my gaffe to his friends and family. Imagine my surprise when, the next evening, he called and asked if we could meet again.