A long night left behind us, we’re starting the day out in our favorite pair of shorts, sexy top – well she’s got the sexy top, while I’m sporting my favorite Mets baseball shirt, ready for a date with my girl. She promised me a date filled with lots of tourist attractions, but not the kind everyone dreams of, the native NYC kind of dates away from most of the crowds.
She promised me a date of holding hands. Soft kisses on the Brooklyn Bridge, and some of her favorite foods, although the only hunger I’m going to be feeling is towards her. Her juicy lips, her tender neck, and kissing her sweet cheeks will be the only thing I’ll have on my mind.
“How competitive are you?” she asks as she yells for a cab to take us through the city.
“Not really sure, but I don’t like losing,” I admit a bit puzzled by her question.
“Neither do I, so I’m going to test your skills at Modern Pinball,” she grins.
“Pinball?” I’m astonished by the fact she thinks playing Pinball will make me competitive.
“Yes. I’m going to put your skills to the test,” she grins from ear to ear prepared to have a little pinball fight.
Arriving at a little place called Modern Pinball, I remember watching a TV show called Daredevil that had been filmed here, in awe of standing right in front of the door to lead us to pinball heaven. A few people line the hall of Pinball machines, but Melody takes me by the hand leading me to the machine that is facing the front window for everyone to see us.
“This is the 70s machine of Kiss, I may or may not have once scored the High Score a year or so ago,” she starts to gloat, “So, would you like to top that score?” she grins.
“I think I’ll pass,” I refrain from playing so I don’t risk topping her high score.
“You can’t,” she laughs entering the coins into the machine, “Here you go,” the ball falls into place as she moves to the side making room for me to start playing.
One push here. One click there. One flip here. And Bam. I’m throwing her score out of the ballpark. I’m in my element and for the first time she’s stunned and unaware of anything around us mainly focusing on my skills at the pinball machine.
“That can’t be right,” she’s appalled, “I thought for sure I would be beating you at this,” I’m still playing as she awaits her turn. Mind you, I’m still on the first ball flipping it all over the place.
“You can’t be good at everything, babe” I remind her, concentrating.
At this stage of the relationship we’re still getting to know one another. The little things we do and the little time we spend together is an adventure. We’ve discovered we’re so alike in so many ways, yet different. We like a lot of the same things, but as far as broccoli and cauliflower goes, she can have that, I have no interest in it whatsoever.
“How about a hot dog?” she tries to distract me looking out of the window to a hot dog stand.
“Uh huh,” I agree as I continue to flip.
“I’m getting hungry,” she mumbles pacing back and forth.
“Uh huh,” I bite my lip trying to make sure I don’t miss a ding on the machine.
“We should hurry before someone beats us there and then there’s a line.” Oh, she’s smooth.
“Uh huh,” I repeat.
“Please baby,” I feel her hands squeeze my butt cheeks and I’m completely done with the game as the ball falls right into its trap.
“Shit,” I roll my eyes as I laugh.
“Oh, I’m sorry, did you lose the ball?” the subtle drop of sarcasm comes across without a doubt.
“No baby, that was my fault,” I tease back with a hint of sarcasm, “So, where’s this hot dog you’re dreaming of?” I smile at her as she points right at the window and grins.
Two hot dogs later I’m surprised at how stuffed I actually am from a hot dog. You’d think it was a simple hot dog, but it wasn’t. Much bigger than those Oscar Meyer packs, loaded with quite the cheese and goods, and a special kind of mustard. If I wasn’t so stuffed, I’d go back and order me another one.
It’s the perfect day. The sun is bright in the sky. I have my girl beside me as we walk the streets of New York City. The tall buildings all around us makes me feel small, but when I stare at Melody next to me, the short brunette that stole my heart, I feel big again. I’m big in an even bigger city. So many people surround us, but I feel like it’s only her and I.
“Next?” I wait for something else exciting to cross her mind in hopes it’s not your standard tourist location.
“I can’t tell you yet, but you might hear music,” she smiles.
Racking my brain trying to figure out what could possibly have music in New York City I think of the subway, those street musicians trying to earn a buck, I think of Lincoln Center and ballerinas, I think of Time’s Square, Broadway, Radio City, but none of these places seem to be what she has on her mind. And if I had to read her mind, I would fail miserably.
Arriving, I never figured this would be the place of music.