I met her outside the doctor’s office. We were both waiting to see someone. We started talking. I made sure to touch her leg when I said I was just joking about that one thing. She said she was buying a car and had a relative in the car industry. I said I’m looking for a car too and asked for her number. I gave her mine. We talked awhile. That night she called me to tell me her relative couldn’t help me out. Then she wanted to talk more. I had to get off the phone, but I told her we’d talk again. We talked again. And again. We made a date for this Thursday. Today at the same place we met, we met again and she asked me to drive her home. Rather than do that, we went for coffee. After that, we went to a little botanical garden type place and sat on a bench. That was when I kissed her. We kissed long and deep and put our hands on each other’s backs and knees and heads. We held hands. Then we went for a drive around town. We were always touching in the car, her hand on my neck, mine on her knee, or holding hands. Then we went to Wendy’s because we both had forgotten to eat all day. Because we were making out. I know, Wendy’s, big spender, but it wasn’t like that: we went dutch! Then we kissed some more in the parking lot and I drove her home, where we kissed more. Her hands on me were divine. And that’s the most I’ve kissed anyone. We still have our “first” date on Thursday, but we’re getting together again Wednesday to go swimming. So Thursday, when we go for dinner and Trivia Night, it will really be our third date. And we all know what that means. I can still smell her on me.