First Date

Mrs. Perino found herself the unexpected owner of a bottle of Merlot wine. Someone gave it to her husband who was a man who did not drink wine, but they gifted it to him because of the emblem on the bottle. It was her husband’s beloved San Francisco 49er football team. The bottle was engraved with gold and red letters of the SF logo and stamped three times were the roman numbers XVI. Near the bottom of the bottle was the teams’ statistics from their 1981 season. He never let her open it and drink it. What would he do with such a gift? Why did he save it? It sat on a shelf in their bar room.

Mrs. Perino went about the house for a day or two, deeply and sorrowfully, but in a state of speculation and calculation. The situation had her preoccupied. She did not want to act quickly or do anything she would later regret. But she saw her path clearly to a proper and judicious use of the wine during the still hours of the night while she lay awake revolving her plans. She would bring it with her on their date this Saturday. It will be their first one.

Mrs. Perino planned for a day of shopping. She noticed some beautiful purses on sale in the shop windows downtown. There would be enough money for new gloves and a pair of boots as well. She wanted to look stylish for her date.

She knew the value of comparison shopping and was able to find a desired item that would be a fraction of the full price. If necessary, she could shove and hang tight on an item until it was her turn to pay for the goods. That is why her perfect date would include a shopping spree where money was not a consideration.

Saturday came, she was busy straightening the house and preparing herself for her outing, securing the bottle of wine in her tote bag when she slowed down for a moment, and realized she had neglected to eat lunch.

***

Mrs. Perino sat on a stool at the accessory counter, practically abandoned of sales help. She tried to gain the strength and composure to continue. A weak, all-out feeling had come across her and she leaned her hand on the counter aimlessly. Her hands were vacant of any gloves. She lay her hand on a pile of leather gloves and looked down, her eyes locked their gaze on her wedding band and engagement ring on her left hand. Next, she noticed a sign on the counter advertising ‘All Gloves, 25% off sticker price’. A young woman appeared behind the counter now and asked her if she would like look at the leather gloves. She grinned and nodded eagerly as if she was asked to model diamond bracelets for an ad campaign. She proceeded to feel the soft, pliable luxurious goods – holding them up with both hands to see them in the store lighting. Their cashmere lining helped them glide serpent-like through her fingers.

Glimpsing up just behind the salesperson, she caught sight of herself in the mirror; both cheeks flushed into her pale skin. She switched her glance back to the salesperson.

"Is there a pair of these in an eight and a half?"

"We have a full selection of that size. Yes, we have more of that size than any other. Here they are in light-brown, maroon, black, different shades of tan and grey."

Mrs. Perino chose a black pair and took an excessively long look at them. She examined the texture of the leather and the employee assured her that they were excellent quality.

The saleswoman mused, "Thirty-four dollars and 97 cents less the 25% sale."

"I'm going to take this pair." She handed two twenty-dollar bills to the woman and waited for her change. What a little purchase it had been, but a big, exciting feeling they brought to her being. She placed them in her tote bag with a smile on her face which was free of charge.

The touch of the fur next to her flesh made her want to lie in a cushioned chair covered in cashmere just for the luxury of it.

Then, she headed straight over to the shoe department and took a seat to be measured for her boots. While seated and waiting on the salesperson, she glanced at the polished, pointed-tipped boots on the display shelf in front of her. She thought they would make a perfect match to her gloves. Mrs. Perino told the young sales assistant who attended to her, that she did not mind the price difference if the fit was right.

Mrs. Perino was not familiar with a proper fitting. When she purchased a pair in the past, they were often so cheap that it would have been unreasonable to expect that they would stretch to fit all hands or feet. Now, the young seller measured her foot and excused herself while Mrs. Perino rested her arm on the padding of the chair.

The assistant carried the stacked boxes from the back room and was now sitting on a foot stool unstuffing the boot. Like how her hands slid in the gloves, her foot slid into the boot and fit like the glove. When the assistant zipped up both boots, Mrs. Perino stood and pranced around the shoe department, “I’ll take these. Can I wear them now? I’m going on a date.”

“Yes, of course. Would you still like to try the 2nd pair on?”

“No these will do. How much will that be?”

“The boots are eight-nine dollars and ninety-three cents plus sales tax. Ninety-seven dollars and thirty-five cents all totaled.”

Standing at the register, she noticed some purses hanging up by the window and would plan to head there next.

Finding a pair of stylish boots and fitting gloves had strengthened her mood—it has provided her with a sense of confidence and a feeling of blending into to the crowd.

Now, the last purchase she planned was that of a designer purse. But the purse she came to admire was inside the glass case. After examining the leather, and zippers, seams and hardware, and the serial number inside, she deemed it worth the splurge, an anniversary gift.

Mrs. Perino was very hungry by now; her reservation would be ready by the time she reached the restaurant around the corner. She had never entered these doors before today; sometimes, she had glimpsed inside from the exterior only to notice the white linens and bright crystal, and swift waiters serving fashionable people.

She created no surprise as she half feared it might have been when she entered. A female Maitre'd, seated her at a table for two. An attentive male server in a white buttoned-down shirt and black pants with a black apron tied around his waist approached the table next.

“Shall I begin service or will someone else be joining you?”

“No, I’ll be dining alone.”

The server cleared the second table setting and returned from the server's station, and. asked, “Would you like to look over the wine list?”

“No thank you. If you do not mind, I brought a bottle of my own, would you mind uncorking it for me?”

“There is a small uncorking fee.” The server replied politely.

“That’s fine.” Mrs. Perino extracted the bottle of wine and placed it on the table. As soon as she did, the server picked it up for a closer look. “Wow, this is a commemorative San Franscisco 49ers bottle. It says it is from when they won the championship and Superbowl 16. It says here that was 1981.” His eyes rolled up in backwards motion, calculating. “This is a 40 forty-year-old bottle of wine. Are you sure you want to open it?”

“Yes, the bottle was a gift to my husband, he loved the 49ers, I love wine, but he never wanted to open it.”

“Oh, has the occasion finally arrived? What are you celebrating?”

“It’s our anniversary.”

“Oh, my apologies, did you need two wine glasses?”

“No, just one glass. You see this is the first anniversary since his passing. It is a first date of sorts. And opening this bottle of wine, is me celebrating the life we shared. It is his last gift to me.”

The server frowned. “My condolences for your lost.” He busied himself with the corkscrew and the sacred bottle.

She removed her gloves easily while waiting for the server to uncork and pour the wine she brought. The linen tablecloth was brighter, and the crystal more sparkling than it looked through the window. People were dining at tables like hers and she heard their whispers, along with the clattering of silverware and dishes. The restaurant was playing classical piano music to add to the ambiance. Every time another server went by her table, a gentle breeze brought a chill to her arm.

After the server left the table, she broke off a bite of the crusty bread and dipped it into the plate of oil and balsamic vinegar. She raised her glass to her nose and smelled the fragrant beverage. “Happy Anniversary my love.” She spoke to the empty chair across from her before sipping the Merlot. “It’s quite good.” She said aloud. “I’ll just have one glass. It would be such a shame to let this go to waste. I wish you were here to see me enjoy it. But then again, if you were here, I would not be drinking this. Things have changed, I have changed. I live for today now because you don’t know what tomorrow will bring.”

She recounted the day she spent, shopping, and eating this great meal and tasting the wine. She asked the waiter to recork the wine to bring it home with her and requested her check. When the waiter brought the check; Mrs. Perino signed the receipt and left an extra-large tip to make up for the small bill, and great service.

The day was not over yet, the advertisement of a film poster at a bus stop presented her with her next event.

It was a little later when she entered the theater, the movie screen had begun to show the coming previews. The theater seemed to her to be full. But there were empty seats here and there. She ushered herself next to a couple of sharp dressed women who had gone there to eat popcorn and candy and lose themselves for a couple of hours.

She laughed at the comedic lines and wept at the sad scenes– she, and the overbright woman on the other side of her wept together. Mrs. Perino wept at her own loss. One woman wiped the tears rolling out of her eyes and sniffled into a white napkin and then passed Mrs. Perino her box of her Goobers. Mrs. Perino pulled out the sealed bottle of wine in the plastic bag the server prepared for her and ripped it open and took a swallow before offering it to her neighborly movie goers who politely declined.

After the movie was over, the music faded out, the crowd filed out. It was as if a dream ended. People scattered in all directions. Mrs. Perino strolled out of the theater and down to the corner to summon an Uber to return home. Sitting in the back of the car, she admired the gloves, boots, and purse she bought on behalf of her husband.

Once settled back at home, she poured the last glass of Merlot left in the bottle and sipped and savored it until its’ end. She removed her rings and placed them on the counter next to the bottle. She knew she would have the rings made into a necklace, but what would she do with the empty bottle? A lamp? A windchime perhaps?