P. was heading out of town to Portland the next week, so we hung out in my neighborhood the Sunday after he showed up, unexpectedly, at my show. He had trouble figuring out where my apartment was, so he called: “Where are you again? I’m walking right by [insert shop near my house].”

I was standing outside my door, looking down the street for him. “I’m right past [insert same shop near my house]. Which way are you walking?” I asked. Cell phones to ears, we saw each other. He walked right up to me, arms outstretched in that same “hey!” gesture he gave me when he walked into the Sweetwater, and gave me a huge, passionate kiss. What an amazing way to start a first date!

The plan was pretty loose. We decided that we were going to decide where to eat when he got there, so we decided to head to Fresca, a local Peruvian mini-chain. We walk over, grinning ear-to-ear and buzzing with nervous energy. I love that part of a relationship so much, when you both know you like each other but you have no idea how it’s all going to play out. It’s so exciting.

We walk in, and see that there are two seats at the bar. P. started walking toward them. “Do you want to sit at the bar?” he asked, his face alive with the possibility. “Yeah!” I said. “I love doing that at sushi places. You get to watch everything happen.” He started telling a story about how he learned how to make some really good mixed drinks by sitting at the bar, observing the bartender, and talking to them about their secrets. Then he started telling me about a business idea he was working on a while back: bottled mojitos. (Apparently, the trick is in getting the perfect mint flavor.)

It was one of those nights when every offhand comment leads into a great conversation, when by sharing these weird, little observations you’ve made about life, you discover so much about a person’s history and their outlook. It felt so comfortable.

Not long into the date, he looked at me and shook his head. “Man, I am so crushing out on you right now,” he said. “Me too!” I said, surprised. It had been forever since I’d felt this way about someone, and it had happened so quickly. I liked how direct he was. Normally, I don’t like to lay all my cards on the table — there’s too much risk of either adding unnecessary pressure that can prevent the burgeoning relationship from growing naturally or opening yourself up to getting hurt. But it was really refreshing to just be upfront and have it be OK. We kissed at the bar. We were caught up in the moment — in all the moments, really.

At one point, the guy sitting next to P., who was a little tipsy, pointed to the ceviche we had ordered and said he had never quite figured out how to pair wine with ceviche. After he left, P. turned to me and said, “That happens to me all the time. I can’t figure out why.” “It’s because you’re so open,” I said. I realized that’s one thing that really drew me to him, too.

In all fairness, I must note that this date happened in May, and I only wrote down the details in August. So forgive any marks of a faded memory on the recounting of it.