This is Part 3, the final part, of this Epic First Date. Click for Part 1 and Part 2

It’s all been fun and games up to this point. Fun and margaritas and roller coasters and sand castles, if you want to be specific.

Nothing stays fun and games forever.

When we last left the story of this first date, I was riding piggyback down to the shore line of Coney Island. That was just a gate way. This date’s about to get gross, guys. Dear readers, shit is about to get so disgustingly cute it might make you want to hurl. You’ve been warned.

Maybe you saw this coming, maybe you were hoping for it. Hoping we would embody every cliché of a cute couple at the beach. In that case, we exceeded expectations.

Wading in to the water so I was holding my dress exactly like Miley here (help, I’m comparing myself to Miley Cyrus).
Giggling while he splashed me with handfuls of water. Yep, being chased. Yep, giggling and screaming, “You better not throw me in!” I could see him consider it. Did he pick me up and throw me in the water?

No. He did not. He’s not an idiot! Yay! This was still a first date!

I maintained some level of dryness. My date however, embraced the waves. He got soaked, drenched, to the point where he said “fuck it!” and went swimming in his Nantucket Red chino shorts. Thus proving he’s more spontaneous than I (and less prone to being freezing no matter what time of year it is).

He came back to dry land and we stood on the sand, the waves lapping our feet, looking out at the Atlantic. I was overwhelmed. I wanted to kiss him, wet clothes and all. I didn’t consider wanting him to kiss me first (something I’ve done before). Nor did I think “I should kiss him now, it’ll make for a better story” (I don’t manipulate my life like that). I didn’t even think, “I wonder if he wants to kiss me.”

Nah, I didn’t think. I just kissed.

Remember how crowded the beach at Coney Island is? Really not a great place for PDA….Sorry beach goers. Sorry. I really wasn’t thinking. Because I was too busy kissing.

After that, my cute date and I got matching tattoos.

No, I’m not kidding.

Haha, don’t freak out! They were airbrushed tattoos! A pink kitty on my elbow (don’t ask why I chose my elbow) and a black puppy over his heart. “Now we have something to remember this date by- until they wash off in 2-3 days.”

We left Coney Island at sunset. But not before he won me not one, not two, but three shitty carnival stuffed animals. My childhood dreams at last came true. Their name’s are Happy Pig, Melancholy Bunny, and Apathetic Bear.

The trio currently sits on my futon and I have no plans on burning them ever. The man who won them for me? What became of him after this epic 8 hour date? Well, we’ve been on not one, not two, but three dates since. I have no plans of burning him either.

Don’t expect a play by play. Suffice to say, they’ve been pretty great. And the smile that spreads across my face as I type that is enough to make a jaded New Yorker ralph on the subway tracks.