The date that never was

I once went out with a guy, and though it was just the two of us hanging out, I don't think he considered it a date. Confusing, but here's the story.

There was a guy named Peter that I really liked. Still really like. In the last month of our senior year at college I finally made a little move - by my standards, pretty big, since I'm shy and a slow learner to the world of dating - and asked him to go to the zoo with me. I didn't ever say it was a date, but I secretly hoped he would think of it as one. I didn't invite anyone else, and he didn't ask to bring any other people. It would be just the two of us.

Well, it became a little more difficult to arrange. With finals nearing and senior year coming to a close, the original day we were going didn't work out, and trying to reschedule landed the trip to the zoo on the same night as the spring semester pub crawl. The crawl is really an excuse for alcoholism, with those over the age of 21 (or who have IDs saying they were) walking through the neighborhoods from bar to bar, consuming as much liquor as possible, documenting their adventure with a digital camera. Sadly, I had never had the opportunity to go on this crawl because I didn't turn 21 until after seven semesters of college, and I wasn't brave enough to consider purchasing a new age. But this day was different - I wanted to go to the zoo more than I wanted to crawl my way through the city.

Knowing this was the day of the fake date, I made sure to put a little more effort into my wardrobe choice and make-up. In addition to the usual Burt's Bees lip balm, I also opted for a swipe or two of mascara (daring, I know). However, these efforts would prove to be pointless - it began pouring down rain as we drove to the zoo. The mascara would be hidden behind the black and white hood of a raincoat. And you would think the rain would dampen the spirits of some people and they would change their mind, but Peter didn't seem to mind and we traversed the zoo despite the weather. We traveled the entire zoo, stopping at every animal habitat we could, watching the creatures hide under trees or in their man-made shelters. For nearly three hours we walked and talked and laughed and shared stories, which would be silly to you but were wonderful to me. It was the best trip to the zoo I had ever had. Sweet. Simple. Slowly the attendants began closing off areas of the zoo, preparing to close for the evening. We walked back to the car and headed home.

You know those conversations you can have with another person that flow continuously because you both enjoy the other's company and you're not worrying about how to impress each other? You genuinely enjoy what the other has to say, you find the topics interesting, it appears to be a conversation without effort? To me, it felt like Peter and I were having one of those conversations on that day.

Shamefully, I'm a wimp. I did nothing after that to show how interested I was. I guess I was hoping he'd make the next move and ask me to do something. Being the end of the year meant time was spent studying and packing, and a tragedy had taken place that meant he was spending time with his family more. And I'm a wimp.

Perhaps in the future I will be less of a wimp. I'll be able to say to a man like Peter that I really enjoyed myself at the zoo and would like to try it again sometime, but in less of a friend capacity. Considering the number of setbacks to the fake date that were - a week's postponement, sudden downpours, pub crawl night - it was pretty enjoyable. I think in being so simple it was pretty much exactly what a date should be. It could have only been better if his hand gently reached for mine as we ended the trip around the zoo. And if we didn't find out the next day that one of the giraffes we had seen (or thought we had seen) was then put down the next day.

Here's to those perfect zoo trips that aren't really dates but you wished they had been.