Our 1st Date... or "When the Magic Really Began"

Your Word of the Blog: Homance: n. When two straight females share friendship, love, and affection for one another. Like a Bromance, but for chicks. See http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=homance for further information.

Tee's Take...

Five months ago, deep in the throes of a men-and-their-extreme-suckage rant (Sorry, dudes who may be reading this. We like you; really we do...) our brilliant plan was hatched. Or cracked, depending on your viewpoint. Either way, the discussion wound around to how lovely a fall picnic would be, how fantastic it could be to stroll arm-in-arm through the park and then stop to spread out a soft, plaid blanket, open an authentic, old-fashioned picnic basket, and enjoy some delicious victuals. (Yes, I said victuals. It's my romantic vision. Deal with it.) And then to gaze sweetly at your partner and have deep, meaningful discussions on life and love. Or... how amazing it would be, if ever such a man existed who would be so wonderful, yet straight enough, to invite us along.... And, considering we'd yet to meet a single dude - let alone two - who fit that bill, it was time to try it out ourselves. So a date was set...


Love is in the Air...or is it Fried Chicken?

A sunny Sunday was chosen and the victuals (yes, victuals, damnit!) prepared in advance. I fried up chicken cutlets the night before and picked out a special loaf of honey-wheat artisan bread and some not-as-cheap-as-Kraft-singles cheeses from the vast cheese display at my local Acme. Port Wine and a sharp New York Cheddar, for those of you in the fromage know. I added some fresh baked chocolate chip cookies and happily packed it all in...oh, shit! Okay, no picnic basket to speak of. Well, a smart woman knows how to make do, right? So I shoved it all in a couple of Cool Whip containers with an ice pack from my 7 year old's lunch bag. Good to go!

I drove to Philadelphia to pick up Rai and, low and behold, she came with her own picnic basket. What a great date! She demurely crammed our stuff inside, and we headed off to Rittenhouse Square. Rai assured me parking in Rittenhouse was free on Sundays. Woot! Sadly, she was not the only one who knew this. Apparently, parking in Rittenhouse on a weekend is a to-the-death battle. All cute'd-up in my sweater dress and tights, I wasn't sure I wanted in on the war. There were horns. There were fingers. There were angry voices. Since most of this was emanating from inside our vehicle, Rai sagely suggested I just find a garage and suck up the $12 fee. After circling the block a few times, I finally caved and motored into an overpriced underground parking spot.. We grabbed the camera and our basket and took the elevator to the street level, ready for homance!

Pausing outside of a Barnes & Noble, a gentleman spied our picnic basket. "Don't tell me there's fried chicken in there?!" he asked, both skeptical and hopeful all at once.

"There is!" I replied, gaily, and sauntered on. Clearly, we were girls who knew how to picnic.

HE knows what I'm talkin' about!

It was a bit cold and damp, but Rai was well-prepared to fight off the chill. Two words that will lift the spirits, warm the heart, and numb the lips of any woman: SPIKED COCOA. Ah, Cherry Chocolate Bliss! Swoon! Arm-in-arm, we strolled over cobblestone, gazing at our fellow pedestrians. Notably, many were couples. More notably, we seemed to be having a better time (though that may have been the cocoa as much as the company!). Also worth noting: It is near impossible to tell if a police officer is giving you the eye because he thinks you and your friend are cute...or because he suspects you are 1/4 of the way to public intoxication...

But enough noting...

We found a sunshiney spot in a grassy patch that appeared remarkably dog-duty-free (There's just some things you don't want to deal with on a homantic picnic!). Rai helped me spread out our picnic blanket and we sat down to enjoy our feast.

Victuals!

I'd like to tell you that the soft blanket cushioned my derriere from the hard, remarkably-wet earth below it. And I'd like to tell you that the "breeze" that whipped its way through the park was warm and relaxing and did not cause goosebumps in places I generally don't admit to having until at least the the third date. And I'd also like to tell you that two strapping, independently-wealthy rugby players with sensitive sides saw our cold, shivering asses and whisked us away to the warmth of their manly-yet-attentive arms. Yeh, I'd really really like to tell you all that... And if I did, you would totally be within your rights to call me a dirty liar. And since I would never lie to you, I won't tell you those things. Instead, I'll just issue this statement: Autumnal picnics are lovely...in early autumn...or don't wear tights. 'Nuff said, k?
As for the victuals: DELISH! There really is nothing better than cold chicken, fresh bread, smooth cheese, and chewy chocolate chip cookies. Except for spiked cocoa. And, y'know, we had that too.

People watching is an under-appreciated sport. Really, there's a lot to be learned about human relationships by paying close attention to random strangers' interactions. On a chilly fall afternoon, you can watch a pair on their first date, two people being introduced by their curious dogs, a gay couple with a child (was it theirs? we never did figure that out), stressed-out businessmen who clearly should have taken the day off, fathers who are obviously filling that difficult gray-area of "Weekend Custody," and a few wandering artists who look to carve out space for their souls to breathe in the midst of the urban suffocation. Plus, y'know, some moderately hot dudes.

The perfect leaf for our perfect date...

Even more interestingly, halfway through our lunch spread, we got to witness a flashmob that...wasn't. Or, at least, that's what their leader kept insisting... loudly...over his megaphone.
"We are not a flashmob." murmur murmur murmur "Right! We are NOT a flashmob!" murmur murmur It went on for about 10 minutes, Megaphone Man explaining this to about 30 of them who had seemingly randomly gathered there. After a final cry of "We are not a flashmob!" the group disbanded and went their separate ways. My best guess: They were a flashmob.

Luncheon finished, we packed up our basket and headed back to the parking garage to stow the basket. We briefly made a new friend in the elevator, who asked if we were lost then heartily wished us a fantastic day, and we wandered off down the bright city street. Man-less, we were free to windowshop to our hearts content. Rai is considerably shorter than me (and I'm short in my own right!), so our street-strut took about half a block to master. "You sexy girl, and you know it!" one upstanding gentleman called out. Indeed, sir. As he did not specify which of us was "girl," we can only assume the appreciation went to our combined effort. Ah, you really can't beat that "brotherly love!"

Rai with her basket and travel mug (*wink*) and some very amused bystanders

Children and chores waited as the afternoon hours waned and we reluctantly returned to the car. What a lovely way to spend the day! Was it successful first date? It definitely seemed as if two girls could enjoy one picnic date. Frigid ground aside, our visions of a perfect autumnal outing seemed near-complete. And, once the weather warms up, I would not hesitate to take Rai on any other baglunch date- especially if she's making the cocoa!


Rai's Ratings...


The Important Stats


1. Cost Free As A Bird…
...or very expensive depending on what you put in your picnic basket ;)

2. Can you wear a sweater dress there?
Abso-freakin-lutely (see: pics of Tee from this date). In my many visits to Rittenhouse, I’ve worn jeans, overalls (Hey! HEY! It was a *uniform* for my job!), pretty skirts, heels, sandals, sneakers….

3. Real-Dude-Date-ability - Would a regular guy be able to hang?
Most certainly! However, if he’s a hipster he may be distracted by the guy on the grass with the guitar. If he’s competitive, avoid the old men playing chess. Other than that, you’re pretty safe. And if you can’t get him to acquiesce to a picnic, there are plenty of restaurants nearby AND….if case of fire (or the need to bribe) the Rum Bar is *totally* in walking distance.

4. Listen, girl... (some last minute advice)
Last summer there was a dance school that gave free lessons in the park on Saturday evenings. If memory serves, it was Dance Philadelphia. I’m not sure they’ll do it again this summer, but it’s worth checking their schedule, no? I do NOT recommend wearing a sweater dress in July, though. Jus’ sayin'