by Dolores Moore

Created on: August 28, 2008   Last Updated: October 31, 2008

In my sometimes rose-tinted mind, all my first dates had the potential to be perfect. Sadly, when my basic honesty kicks in, I have to realize that they all swiftly descended into dismay and disillusionment. But there WERE elements of perfection, every little ingredient for success seemed to be there. I will share exactly what happened and tell the truth. Off come those rosy glasses!

My first real date, at aged 15, was with Tom, my long-time best friend, sometime enemy, the boy next door who turned into quite a handsome frog. We had been friends for over 12 years, but when hormones began their merry dance, he thought we should take our relationship onto the "higher plane" of romantic love. We would become boyfriend and girlfriend. In retrospect, I realize I had some doubts, but as I said, he was very good-looking and many girls I knew where itching to "go out" with him. I was flattered, I suppose; despite the fact of our best friendship, something about the love angle niggled. But....nothing ventured, and so on.

We would go to the pictures, and because he was a gentleman, he would pay for everything, including the bus fare. When I told my mother, she was very surprised, expressing the view that since we were always disagreeing, she could not fathom why we would become a couple. She gave me the money for the bus fares - "just in case" and warned me about "funny business." I will leave her meaning to your imagination; we are talking 1964 here. The film we chose to see was the epic 'El Cid', with the wonderful Charlton Heston in the title role, and the crucifixion scene, I believe.

The date began perfectly, as we met on the corner, away from prying eyes. He kissed my cheek, then took my hand. The hand part, I recall, felt fine, we had often run hand in hand over the years. But that kiss was not quite 'us.' It served to alter the whole dynamic of our relationship. I felt uneasy. We got on the bus, and somehow, our usually free-flowing conversation became stilted and uncomfortable. I could feel that sticky kiss on my cheek, holding me back. I thought our roles were unreal, not just me and Tom somehow. The level of intimacy was both less and more than I liked. This is something so hard to define, and also, it was the potential destroyer of first date perfection.

We got to the cinema in good time. Tom bought us popcorn, toffees and juice - well, we were kids. The film began, it was a magnificent spectacle. It went on and on and on. By the Intermission, I was dying. From

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