I'm waiting impatiently, biting my nails, at New York City's trendy Coffee Shop
restaurant. I'm expecting Carson any sec. Dinner at eight. Should I cut him some slack?
Must be stuk at the MTV studio taping. How to kill a little time while I'm waiting? Dash
to the bathroom to re-apply lip gloss and pick wedgie.
8:15 P.M.
hot- and humble
Carson strolls in sporting a blue jacket that matches his eyes. Fasionably late. I like
it. "Sorry I'm late," he says, smiling sheepishly. "I guess I've already made a bade first
date impression." Impossible, I think. he's too cute. We grab a table. Carson gives me the
comfy booth seat. He takes the wooden chair. Such a gentleman. He must have had a lot of
practice. "Did you date a lot in high school?" I ask. "No way!" he says, laughing. "All the
hot girls were just 'friends' with me. They'd say things like, 'Carson, you're such a good
listener' while they stared over my shoulder at some other guy."
8:35 P.M.
chew and chat, chat, chat
Our waitress swings by (for the fourth time) to take our order. We've been too busy talking
to look at the menus. We both get seared tuna salad. Carson lets me order first. This guy is
so polite. In fact, he's more interested in asking me questions than answering the ones I have
for him. Of course, the man has interviewed everyone from Trent Reznor to Taylor Hanson for MTV.
Who was his fave? "Marilyn Manson," he says. "Manson might seem kind of creepy and 'out there'
at first, but he is one of the smartest people I've ever met." Carson spears some salad. I take
mental notes: Chews with mouth shut. Doesn't use hands. Respects one-foot distance between face
and plate. It's official: I'm hopelessly in love.
10:25 P.M.
love is in his heart
Two hours later, our waitress brings us the bill. In spite of my protests, Carson snags it. "Forget
it, Riann. I'm buying dinner." Then he insists on giving me a ride home- 45 minutes out of his way.
Such chivalry. No wonder Love Hewitt snagged him. When I ask Carson to describe her, his eyes
actually seem to light up. "She's everything I've ever looked for in a girl," Carson says. "She's
perfect." My green-eyed monster creeps in quickly.
11:05 P.M.
a kiss for a cutie
Our car pulls up in front of my apartment building. We hop out. "Thanks for a great evening," I say,
shaking his hand. "You're welcome," he says with that smile. "It was fun." Suddenly, Carson throws me
down on the sidewalk for the juiciest French kiss in history. Wait- that was the dream I had later.
It's actually a peck on the cheek. (FYI: He smells great.) And by the way, I made the first move.
Carson's too nice for that. Oh, what a knight.
kym_rock@hotmail.com