Friday, January 9, 2009

my new girlfriend, Crystal Newell

For two months I have been dating a girl named Crystal Newell who is a fellow resident at the nursing home where I live. Our first date was to the Art Institute of Chicago, with dinner beforehand at an Italian restaurant called Tedino's on Sheridan Road. Then I bought season tickets to the Lyric Opera, four operas. We saw Bizet's The Pearl Fishers. Then I had a crisis of confidence in Crystal's interest before the second opera, when she let her mother's schedule conflict with ours. I called off the date without trying to resolve the matter.

But then Crystal later came to me and asked if we could go out again. She was genuine and I took her to Tedino's on the 24th of December. At that time I said it was okay for us to go to the opera again.

Crystal is African American and lovely, with a slim feminine figure. She is sharp, untutored, and raw. Very quiet. A speedy walking pace. Alternately poised and frazzled. And 25 years old, as of yesterday, to my 58. We were planning to go out to dinner for my birthday but she had an argument with her mother and the staff, as things like that do happen with us mentally ill despite our conformity to good practice, and was put on restriction so she couldn't go out of the building, and won't be able to until they decide to drop it.

The next event we plan on is Wagner's Tristan und Iseult at Lyric, Feb. 16. She should be able to beat the rap before then.

After each date I kiss her on the cheek. She's getting to trust me more. I'm getting to be confident she likes me. Her roommate, a friend of mine, says she has a steady stream of gentleman callers who she says "no" to, all of them, and they don't come back. That's good. I want her.