Sweat

What we acquire without sweat we give away without regret.

Readers, do you recall the date I went on last week? Well, apparently my duck was not cooked. He asked for a second date, which took place last nite.

As fate would have it, the Alamo Ritz was showing a Billy Wilder flick called The Fortune Cookie. I figured this was an ideal second date. If I managed to humiliate myself, at least I would still be covering creative ground.

But all turned out quite well, indeed.  After the movie we walked around downtown looking for someplace to eat. This was rather challenging, as it was after 10:00 on a week nite. Luckily my date is also from New York, so if you’ve ever seen Annie Hall or When Harry Met Sally, you’ll understand that this really wasn’t a problem. Native New Yorkers, despite our reputations for high-maintance , desire little from an evening beyond walking and talking. And walking and talking. And then more walking and talking.

Unfortunately for me, this activity inevitably comes with a great deal of sweat. I am a sweater. I am worse than Nixon. I am one of those face-scalp sweaters, which means I often appear as if I’ve been caught in the rain. I’m not obese, nor is there anything medically wrong with me. It’s just one of my many quirks.

When we finally found an open restaurant, I sat across from my new friend, and when he beamed at me, I felt…well, a bit like a goddess, actually. And believe me, the damage was severe. A trip to the ladies room revealed something on par with 12 hours of labor, or perhaps a heart attack. But nevertheless, a goddess he saw. Unbelievable. I was even sweaty when he kissed me goodnight– three times– on the corner of 7th and Trinity before an audience of homeless people.

This morning I discovered more remnants from the night’s adventures: Blisters. Eleven, to be exact. And so here I am,  soaking my traumatized feet, and reading my fortune cookie:

Confucius say, “What we acquire without sweat we give away without regret.”

Truly, Fairy Buddha Godmother, you have the strangest sense of humor.

But you’re also right. He’s one I’d sure like to see again.

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