I remember that I wore my black fuzzy slippers, barely disguised by the wide leg of my dress pants. Hmm...Old Me wore slippers a lot, and it wasn't necessarily to act cute, either. Slippers were my preferred footwear, and I didn't care to keep them in the appropriate shoe boundaries.
*After we got married, I somehow elevated my dressing standards (oh, a little before we married, too), but no campus rules enforcers could stop me from pulling out those slippers again when I was pregnant. What a sight! Pregnant woman in nice clothes...except...oooh dear, except for the slippers. Those bedraggled, holey, black blobs of fluff leaving shrapnel in my path. Wow.*
The date could have been like any other date, and I was extraordinarily comfortable with that. I settled cross-legged into my seat. My poor chiropractor...the only time I sit "normal" is when I'm at attention for a harp performance.
The first piano number started, and Michael whispered that he'd tried out for the concert and hadn't made it; apparently, the judges wanted a different flavor of music... and that comment opened the windows to a new date experience! I dared ask "You mean...you think this music is dorky?"
Now, sadly, that was not verbatim. Would that I had such perfect memory. But once we had this understanding that the music being performed was indeed cheese-pooh to the max for both our sets of ears, we were free to laugh conspiratorially together and whisper our criticisms. Our "evil" sides matched so well it was bliss! (I say "evil" because I realize a lot of people think we're awful for not liking their fluffy feel-good music). I'd never met someone who understood my music feelings like that outside of my family!
My favorite part:
Some show-off who'd gone on a Spanish-speaking mission decided to sing in Spanish (Yeahhh, I'd probably sing in French if I knew enough of it). Michael decided to translate.
Michael speaks Russian, not Spanish.
So the translation went like this (and it gave him an excuse to lean close and whisper in my ear):
"He just lost his car keys...
Hmm, I don't know what that next part meant...
But now he's asking his mommy where they are, I think.
Oh, she says they're in the tupperware."
I laughed SO hard I had to try not to SNORT! It was becoming a disturbance to the rest of the audience!
But I save us: I think everyone else was only mildly enduring this particular song. Especially the guy in charge of the lighting, because what was once a very Cool orange backlight switching to manly colors of Blue and Red (really, there was not ONE girl performer, now that I think of it), Mr. Lightsguy decided to practice his skills and started switching the colors to pink and purple with flowery shapes moving across.
Poor Spanish-speaking boy. I do feel bad that he might have been embarrassed if he noticed the feminine backlights.
HAhahha, but keys in the tupperware!!!
After the performance, Michael took me to a piano room to play a sample of what he'd auditioned with. Our bonding over cheesy music had braved him up. And his music was amazing. He did this cool thing where his right hand was actually on top of his left hand so he could do this ripple-y many-fingered chord thing that I've never seen anyone else do. I was baffled! And he felt shy after being so amazing. ;)
And then he had to go do some Home Teaching and take me home. *sigh* Oh righteousness. It left me wanting more! (Which he confides was his plan all along). (Really, I have more stories where he did the same thing).