Last night, Steve took me out for a date night. I don’t mean for pizza and then buying some used DVDs at Blockbuster, I mean we really went out on the town. He took me downtown to the Orpheum Theatre to see Norah Jones’ concert.
If a date entails paying for parking, to me, that’s a real date. That’s something that married people don’t usually do, seeing as we’re no longer trying to impress each other. But being that today is my birthday and I am completely infatuated w/Norah’s newest CD, and that I’ve always wanted to go to the Orpheum, Steve obliged.
Steve bought a beer in the hallway so he could sip on it during the show. But as soon as we tried to enter the theatre, an usher woman who takes her job much too seriously told him no food or drinks were allowed inside. He was forced to chug it in the foyer. Regardless of the food or drink rule, a few songs in, he began rustling in my purse for his emergency granola bar. You would think this man has diabetes or something the way he was acting like if he didn’t eat he would keel over. But I knew how he felt, I was famished, too.
The concert was fantastic. Norah’s voice is flawless – like butter. I was thinking of how no one on American Idol compares. Of course that’s what I was thinking. Norah could sing “This Old Man” or even the AWANA Cubbies’ song and make it sound like poetry.
I kept thinking during the concert of how I was on a real date like a grown-up adult. I wasn’t at the dollar theater, nor at TGI Friday’s: I was really out the way “out” is meant to be understood (somehow lately it’s all got contorted to meaning going to Target or picking up the prescription at Walgreen’s). I imagined that all those times I babysat in the past, the parents were out doing very grown-up, sophisticated activities exactly like this.
I felt mature. Like perhaps we should consider becoming parents now since we’re that age and everyone else is doing it. But I’m still not ready. I know if we did have kids, Steve never would have sprung for the tickets or a babysitter, and going out would’ve meant the dollar theater last night. We’re not quite parents-material yet. After all, on the way home from our sophisticated night out, we did stop at Taco Bell for our much belated dinner. We’re still kids ourselves in a few ways.