There was probably a time when I was very young, and did something date-like with a boy in Sweden, but since I didn't really understand or participate in the concept of dating until I arrived in the United States, I thought I should write about what I consider my first official American date. And yeah, it was pretty official as far as dates go.
To give you some background, Sweden is one of those countries where you tend to melt in and out of relationships without the formality of a date, or a series of them. You meet with or without friends, go out and have drinks and dinner just like on an American date, but it tends to be a bit more relaxed than here. Then you're in a relationship for a while, and it's good until it isn't, at which time you melt out, and melt into something else with someone else. Swedish (and most European) men are charming, polite and behave like gentlemen, and in my opinion, it comes out a bit more natural than it does with American men, because that official date element isn't there.
I had just moved to California when Richie asked me out on a date. I think he even used the word date in the actual asking, to make it clear. I wasn't sure how I felt about Richie, who was a cute, all-American, Jewish guy around my age, but was told that's what dates are about, figuring out one's feelings, so I said yes, and he got tickets to a Dodger game. Another first. My First Baseball Game.
Before we get to the actual date, let me say a few words about my relationship to baseball. I don't get it. And when I say I don't get it, let me make clear that I understand the rules and objective of the game, but having grown up without baseball and its long standing rivalries, I don't get into it like real Americans do. I think it's a lot of hours spent for little to no action. Especially if you compare it to ice-hockey, which is a quick, and sometimes deliciously violent sport that Sweden is great at. I can get quite passionate and riled up during a world cup game of ice-hockey, but baseball just isn't in my slightly chilled, Swedish blood.
I'm now realizing that I'm going to come across as an impossible-to-please, bitchy girl in this post, and I hate that. Especially because I'm fairly easy to please in reality. I have made it clear in life (and in previous posts) that I believe in gender roles, and that I think men should be men, take charge, and treat women like women.
I'm not necessarily contradicting that now, but I am saying that it's not just about doing the right thing, and taking charge on a date, but it's how you do it. It's all in the nuance. And perhaps a bit in the wrist. And the bulk of the Americans I've dated, have unfortunately made up for their lack of that natural, easy "je ne sais quoi," with an overly confident and sometimes boastful edge. Sigh.
Richie picked me up and opened the passenger door for me and this is where it all went wrong. I know he was just 23 or so, but this perfectly appropriate and sweet gesture was done in such an overly "datey" and showy way, that it made me a bit uncomfortable. I had certainly had doors opened for me before, but in this case, it didn't feel like I was spending time with a new friend, who had gently opened my door, instead, it felt overly stiff and official.
We got to Dodger Stadium and found our seats. I don't remember who the Dodgers played that day. Or any of the players. Or if they won or lost. I remember that Richie asked me what snacks I wanted, and then went and got them, while I was to stay in our seats. I remember that Richie got up to escort me to the bathroom when I needed to go, and I subsequently told him to sit down because I was fine going on my own.
I remember that I made a big mistake on my way back from the bathroom. I had declined a soda when Richie offered earlier, but walking by the concession stand, I found myself wanting one, so I got a Coke on my way back to our seats. Richie got visibly upset and asked why I hadn't told him I wanted a soda earlier. I know, I know...he was a perfect gentleman, eager to please and willing to make my first Dodger experience the best one ever, but it was in a way that seemed so awkward, and unnatural, perhaps even controlling at times.
I remember that Richie tried his best to explain the game, the purpose of the 7th inning stretch, and other baseball related facts I probably should have been interested in. But I was 22 and this was all really boring to me. Conversation didn't flow easily and I tried to infuse it with a joke here and there about some of the things going on at the game, but that wasn't appreciated. At some point, when I understood we were going to be there for a few hours, I remember wondering if it was obligatory to stay for the whole game, but definitely understanding that it wasn't really appropriate to ask.
Buy me some peanuts and cracker jacks...I DON'T CARE IF I NEVER GO BACK.
Finally, at the end, when Richie asked me if I wanted a program, I said something rude and sarcastic, and interestingly enough, I can't remember it now...I suppose my harsh edge came out as I just didn't get the point of having a program to a game that was already over. Richie mumbled something like "to remember your first baseball game," and I felt like an ass. (I told you I would come across as a bitch.)
Richie's only crime was to take a young "uninterested-in-baseball" Swedish girl to a Dodger game. Once there, he did do all the "right" things a young American man would do on a date, and any American girl would probably have been thrilled with the somewhat formal attention. I was being taken care of and adored, and even though I felt the manner lacked a bit of ease and playfulness, it was a true American date and in hindsight, I do appreciate it very much.
In conclusion, there are two things discussed in this blog I still do, with equal discomfort and reluctance;
Number 1. Go to Dodger Stadium and see a game every couple of years, and Number 2. Go on dates. Although I still don't see the real benefit in either, I've found something to look forward to in both. At the game it's the Dodger dogs...
Comments