The Marathon Date

My boyfriend and I don't typically go out on proper dates that often. We did for our first date, and after that, it pretty much has gone the route of casual/whimsical. We dine out every now and then, and catch a flick or two. But when you get down to it, we simply don't do the date thing that frequently. (I'd like to call my first witness, The Economy, to the stand.)

We cook at home, all the time. And order movies on demand, and watch "It's Always Sunny" reruns to the point of ridiculousness. We LOVE to frequent the beach from May through that last great weekend of September. I'm not a high-maintenance chick, but there does come a point when a girl's gotta go out with her fella and have a good time.

Enter The Marathon Date.

Prior to The Marathon Date was our previous date proper, which occurred in November. This involved the boyfriend taking me on a surprise date, which I had already figured out when we left our place and took a certain route towards a certain Lincoln Square theater. I was so excited, I had to call him out, "You're taking me to the new Bond!" and that wasn't sarcasm, because I totally heart Bond movies.

For The Marathon Date, it was my turn to surprise him, with the exception of the pre-determined IMAX movie. And being the competitive person I am, I thought to myself, I am so going to blow his date away. My surpise portion involved visiting the LEGO store (props to my friend at work for the tip) and then drinks at The Signature Room.

The Marathon Date, in summary:

We took the Red line in the middle of a snowstorm, on a Saturday afternoon.

Our first stop out of the subway was at Nordstrom to get snowboots, because mine were completely water-logged from snowstorm. (Oh, how I still long for the days working next to that place. And oh, how my wallet does not.) Purchased snow boots, wear proudly out of store (they were stylin'!), walk to Navy Pier.

Blisters form prior to approaching Navy Pier. I think maybe I'm just a wussy, and decide suck it up and see how they feel after the flick. A good rest should do the trick, right?

Super-fun adventure movie at IMAX.

Leave IMAX, blisters more evident/painful.

Hitch a free ride on the Navy Pier Trolley back to Nordstrom (Yes! No walking.) to return my recent-purchase. No other suitable snow boots. I put my old, waterlogged boots back on and we proceed to the surprise portion of our date.

Stop at LEGO store. Play with LEGOS, and pick out all the sets we want to/wish we could purchase to play with further in the comfort of our home.

Wander up Michigan Avenue, admiring the holiday lights (still up), trying to distract myself from the waterlogging (I will not gripe and moan on the surprise date!), and even excited to show him the Signature Room. He's lived here his whole life, and hadn't been there. It was a must.

Go to Water Tower, roam through sadly, try on snow boots at approximately 10 stores. (At one point, a manager told me one pair was "utter crap" and would leak, even though it claimed to be waterproof. I thanked him for his honesty). No boots purchased.

Slush just further north, approach the Hancock, and by now, he's fully aware of the surprise.

Consume two dirty martinis, six olives, and some brie, crackers and apple app. Amazing conversations, I truly bonded with my man in an utterly romantic atmosphere. We left well-buzzed from the liquor, the talks and each other.

We thought it'd be a great idea to walk around the beautiful church across from the Hancock, Fourth Presbyterian Church. We took pictures while taking it all in. We wandered west toward the red line, dropped our jaws for a few in front of the Lamborghini dealership, and I thought to keep taking pictures. I dropped my camera and it broke. (!)

After my minor breakdown over the camera, we were back on our way to the sub. It was only 8:30 or so, and I suggested a game of darts and hot wings at a little place by us on the north side. So we stopped in, played darts, and ate hot wings. Then around 9:30 a guy interrupted our game:

Guy: "I hate to interrupt, but are you guys going to wrap up this game soon?"

Boyfriend: "Yeah, we're almost done, but you can get in on the next round if you want, we don't mind."

Guy: "Oh, I'd love to, but I just need this space to set up for karaoke."

Me and Boyfriend: "Karaokeeee??!!!!"

Now I'll admit to ONLY singing karaoke with groups of friends, while intoxicated. I'm not pretending to be waiting for that big break or anything. My fella, on the other hand; he's in a band, and he LOVES the karaoke. He's got a good voice, too. Last year, we went out for his birthday, and he ended up singing the majority of the night. It was great!

On The Marathon Date, I had apparently consumed enough beverages to NOT care about the fact that I don't sing well.

Yet I sang the following songs that night--by myself--in no particular order:

"Once in a Lifetime" by the Talking Heads
"Kiss Off" by the Violent Femmes
"Wrong Way" by Sublime
"Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" by Billy Joel

I'm missing two or three songs, too. Check back; when they come to me, they'll be added.

The boyfriend and I sang a few duets, but I don't recall those. (Did I mention we closed the bar?)

We even collaborated with other singers (at their request, gasp!); again, don't recall the songs.

So we closed the bar, the karaoke guy prying the microphone from my grip, and the boyfriend and I running and jumping in the fresh piles of snow from that night. (It was still snowing at close). Thank god it was a fresh white snow, because it wasn't the same color the next morning.

And The Marathon Date was a necessity for the E./Fil combo, and we still talk about it today. It's the date that will go down in history.

"A 12-hour date, a 12-hour date."