PeekabooNWA

Chasing Date Night: At Sam’s Club

Posted on 31. Dec, 2009 by admin in Chasing Date Night

I’ve been writing this column for over a year now and I think I’ve given some great advice about how to have romantic date nights with your spouse. I’ve encouraged all you married folk to commit to a regular date night, shake things up with novel activities, and take that extra time to prepare for and flirt with your spouse. I’ve profiled happily married couples and even gave you a primer on how to date like the Obamas.

I’m such a fraud.

My own dating life is not so Chasing-Date-Night-ish. My dates lack the romantic spark I’m always advocating. On a recent Saturday night, for example, my husband and I experienced the rare thrill of being childless for a few hours. I sat on his lap and told him there was something I wanted to do. Before he even had time to ponder the possibilities, I laid it on him: what I really, really wanted—was Sam’s Club.

I wasn’t lured by the flattering fluorescent lighting or the possibility of making out in a pleather recliner in the furniture aisle. No, I needed to scope out the food options for the fortieth birthday party I was throwing myself. Let the dating begin!

First we stopped at the optical counter, where I talked John into some stylish new frames. A few minutes later we shared samples of Goldfish crackers and compared the price of meat and cheese trays. He told me he’d take care of everything for the party, which is not how it will work, but it sounded nice and saying pretty things is half of romance.
A particularly zesty looking tray of enchiladas wouldn’t let us go. We picked them up to pop into the microwave at home. Our hot date would now include a romantic meal. The first course of appetizers was served in store and for free: pizza, granola bars, and sausage.

We saw and were seen. Among the thirty-pound bags of avocados and lifetime supplies of Pop Tarts, we found people we knew—a neighbor, a friend, a co-worker. Turned out Sam’s was the place to be that Saturday night.

We even held hands.

There were no cute jeans, no sexy shoes. I didn’t blow out my hair or retouch my makeup. But it was nice. This errand I could have done on my own was as good a date as any. Doing it together reminded me of how life used to be before the business end of our family got so big it required dividing up all the little tasks that used to bring us together.

We went home and shared those enchiladas in the living room like old times. John tried to sit next to me on the love seat, but it wasn’t comfortable and we’ve got nothing to prove. He headed over to the recliner, where I was welcome to join him for a make out session—or not. And he let me pick the movie.

Maybe I’m not such a fraud after all.