Monte's First Date

I pulled money out of the box in my bottom desk drawer and gave Monty a few extra dollars for the job he had done raking and bagging the leaves in front of the building. He did do a great job, but the reason for the extra money was, I knew this was how he was financing his first real date.

“It’s not a date,” Monte said, counting the bills again before shoving them into a pocket of his baggy jeans. “We’re just going to get some food and see a movie.”

Walking into my office behind Monte, hands thrust into the pockets of her car coat, Cindy asked, “Who’s paying?”

“I am, now.”

“Then it’s a date,” she said. “You know, you ought to get some tips from Hannibal about how to treat a lady. He’s not perfect, but he’s got the right idea.”

I was walking around the desk to head back outside. Cindy and I had our own lunch plans and I didn’t expect them to be delayed. But Monte surprised me.

“What about it, H?” he asked. “What do I need to know?”

I stopped, because this was a rare thing. Monte was a typical twelve-year-old African American youth. That means he generally thought he already knew it all, life was unfair, and nobody over 18 knew a damned thing. Actually, maybe that’s all twelve-year-olds. Anyhow, I try to school the boy on what he’ll need to know to be a good man. I think his grandmother appreciates the help in raising him. But for him to actually ASK for advice, well, this was a chance not to be passed up. Besides, I knew he was still young enough to be embarrassed by how much he didn’t know about women. Not that I know all about women now. I’m just old enough to not be embarrassed by my ignorance anymore. But I knew it was a big thing for Monte to ask what he did, especially in front of Cindy. I looked at her smirk, and thought a minute before just blurting out an answer.

“You know what, Monte? It’s not that hard to show a girl that you’re glad you have her for company, and to show her that you’re a right guy. In fact, I think there are only four things you need to do to get through a date right.”

“I can’t wait,” Cindy said. She knew she had thrown me a challenge, which is kind of what Puerto Rican girls do once in a while to keep their men on their toes. Just for that I decided she‘d be the demonstrator, and waved her toward me.

“Rule number one: help her with her coat.”

“Pull it off her?”

“No no, just… Cindy, turn around. Now, you’re behind her, like this, right. You just stick two fingers in here between her neck and the coat. Just hold it as she slides one arm out,” Cindy did so without any words from me, “and then hold it a little lower so she can get the other arm out.”

“You want to reverse it now?” Cindy asked.

“Sure. Two hands this time, nice and low so she can slip her hands into the arm holds. There.”

“Okay, I can do that. What else?”

“Rule number two: pull out her chair. Now don’t go crazy on this. You’re not the butler, for God’s sake. Keep it casual, no big deal.” I gripped the back of the chair with one hand and slid it back. Monte looked like he was about to protest but Cindy jumped in.

“Trust him,” Cindy said with a wise nod. “Girls take it as a sign of respect, not servitude. Okay, Hannibal, what would rule number three be?”

“When the girl goes to the bathroom… and she will… stand up when she gets back.”

“Not when she leaves?”

“That’s too much, Monte,” I said. “Just acknowledge her return. It’s like, ‘hey, I wasn’t sure you’d come back.’ You don’t even have to get up all the way, just get your butt off the seat, like a three-quarter rise.”

“You do that much, and the girl will think you’re the smoothest dude she’s ever seen,” Cindy said. Then she looked at me. “There’s more?”

“You tell me,” I said. “What does a guy have to do at the end of the date to make sure you see him again?”

Cindy seemed to turn her thoughts inward for a moment, but then I saw she had a light bulb moment. “You’re thinking of the tip.”

“Yep. Got to drop that extra twenty percent.”

“What does the girl care about that?” Monte asked. “I mean, I’m gonna pay the bill.”

“That’s expected,” Cindy said.

I looked hard at Monte to make sure I had his attention. “Take this as gospel, son. Every woman you take out starts out thinking you’re just treating her nice because you want something else.”

“Hannibal!” Cindy’s eyes were tossing daggers at me, but too bad.

“You know it’s true, girl. Monte, the woman will discount whatever you say to her or do for her if she doesn’t think it’s the real you. So you’ve got to be nice to others too. Any woman who’s been out there a while will tell you this: A guy who’s nice to her but mean to the waitress is really a mean guy.”

Monte and I looked at Cindy and, for once, she raised her hands and nodded. So I had two great surprises in the same day. Monte asked for advice. And Cindy admitted that I was right.