The most romantic date ever imagined

Blog, if Christmas isn’t a time for romantic fantasies, I don’t know when is. Having a doozy sort of imagination, I came up with a doozy, which in the interest of holiday cheer I thought I’d share with our readers. Everyone has his or her own concept of the most romantic date ever, and I hope today’s post will inspire others to do their own Christmas dreaming a little early this year.

Of course a girl has to start with her current crush in the role of protagonist. Mine this year is Jack Hodgins from “Bones,” played by the inimitable T.J. Thyne. (I know he just married Angela on the show, but I’m married in actual real life, so what’s your point, Blog?) In order to pull off this dreamy holiday date, a guy would have to be unrealistically aware of feminine hopes and dreams, as well as loaded with a ton of disposable income. Neither T.J. nor Jack really qualify I imagine, but look...if I were going for plausibility here I would simply go out with the awesome Davie (my husband, that Davie).

Okay, let’s roll it...

Jack announces to me that he has planned the ideal Christmastime date, and it starts at the mall. Yes, the mall, don’t roll your eyes, Blog. He’s found a fantasy mall that is just about the most festive shopping scene you could imagine. Every shop in the place is decked out in holiday splendor, and there’s a fairy tale castle in the food court inhabited by the perfect Santa and the coolest elves. We’re holding hands and window shopping, when suddenly around us people start singing “Welcome Christmas” from “The Grinch.” You know, like one of those viral videos where regular people in the place turn out to be this fantastic choir incognito. It’s glorious! Jack and I sing along and grin at each other and I weep a few tears of joy.

Well, Jack tells me he has a little “private shopping” to do, and he drops me off at a salon. The beauticians have been prepped in advance to do a fabulous makeover on me, hair and nails and makeup, the whole bit. It’s a complete Fairy Godmother scene. I can’t imagine where I could go looking so fancy. Well, as they finish up with me, a couple of big packages are delivered to the salon, all wrapped up in spectacular paper and bows. One is this gorgeous ivory cashmere wrap, and the other is a gown with matching shoes. It’s mocha colored and glittery and shimmery and I love it. I put it on and model it for the salon folks, and just then who should show up but Jack.

He’s staring at me like a man possessed, and murmurs, “You look perfect.” I blush and feel like a million and a half dollars. I say, “You got me these presents, didn’t you?” He nods and says, “Yeah, and this one,” and holds out another package. I unwrap it, and it’s a necklace, bracelet and earrings with those chocolate diamonds and pearls that I’ve seen advertised on TV and know are too expensive for a sane person to buy. They are also perfect with the gown. Jack helps me put the jewelry on, and the salon staff all claps, and I’m speechless.

“Now,” says Jack, extricating himself from my crazed embrace, “you look so great you have to go somewhere.” He tells me there’s a limo waiting for me outside the mall, which will take me to our next destination, where he’ll be waiting for me. Stunned, I agree to follow his directions. Jack takes off with a look of glee on his face, and I say farewell to my friends in the salon and go out the back door to where a beautiful black limo is parked, sure enough.

The limo driver is that cool cabbie from “How I Met Your Mother,” and he’s super nice. He settles me in the back like a real footman, and off we go. We drive through the city streets and I admire all the Christmas lights and try to guess where we could possibly be going. He takes a bit of a scenic route but I don’t mind; the limo is playing Christmas music and I keep looking at my necklace and bracelet and wonder how it’s possible those gorgeous things are on my body.

Finally we pull up to this fabulous art deco building that has a big stairway leading up to the front entrance. It looks like an opera house or something equally elegant. The driver lets me out, and then I see Jack coming down the stairs towards me. He’s in a tuxedo and looks beyond dreamy. Which I tell him. He just smiles secretively and takes my hand, and we go up the stairs and into the building.

Inside there is a fabulous ballroom, decked out in Christmas trees and holly boughs and candlelight. A big band is playing “Christmas Waltz,” and the room is full of dancers in their finery. Jack and I dance, flying across the floor as if we’re on “Dancing with the Stars” or something. And so it goes, we dance and drink champagne and eat lovely little canapés and cookies, and stroll around admiring the decorations and enjoying the music, and dancing some more.

Then the band pauses, and Jack excuses himself with a sly look, and heads towards the stage. Next thing I know, he’s at the microphone saying, “I have a holiday dedication for a very special lady, so I hope you all won’t mind if I sing this next one.” The crowd looks excited and happy, the band strikes up “What Are You Doing New Year’s Eve?” and Jack starts to sing.

His voice is amazing, and all the time he’s looking at me with this tender expression and that smile of his that just makes me crazy. I feel like the most beautiful girl on the planet. When he’s done the crowd goes crazy, and he comes back to me and kisses me in front of everyone.

Well, at this point, Blog, I figure I must simply have died and gone to heaven. But the night isn’t over yet. After a few more dances, a little more champagne, Jack asks if I’m ready for our next stop. I can’t believe there is a next stop. But he gets my wrap and puts it around my shoulders, and we go back outside where there’s another limo waiting, a white one this time.

We cuddle up inside and drink some hot cocoa, and take a long drive past more beautifully decorated buildings and shops and parks. At last we pull up to this fancy hotel, and the car comes to a stop.

So yes, we have a room at this fantastic hotel, a special, immense Christmas room that has a real tree in it all decorated, and a fireplace with a roaring fire, and little white lights all over the ceiling like stars. There’s another present sitting on the bed, and I open it to find a beautiful ivory satin negligee. Jack and I get ready for bed, and snuggle together, and I go off about what an incredible time it all was that I will never, ever forget. Jack tells me, “I know you won’t, I made sure about that...but that’s a surprise for morning.” I can’t imagine what he means, and I’m too exhausted to ponder it for long, and fall asleep in his arms.

The next morning room service brings us a fabulous breakfast, and set it out on the table in our room, with red and white roses and more champagne and wonderful coffee. We linger a long time over the meal, talking about the night before and how nuts we are for each other and other cheerful subjects. Then there’s a knock at the door and Jack returns with another wrapped gift. “Here’s what I promised you last night,” he says, and gives it to me.

When I open the package I find inside a beautiful scrapbook. Inside it’s full of unbelievably perfect photographs of everything that happened the previous day: the singing at the mall, my makeover, me in the gown opening the jewelry, Jack at the top of the ballroom stairs, us dancing, him singing with the band, everything. “I hired two professional photographers to stalk us,” says Jack, “and a graphic designer to stay up all night putting that book together.”

Well, isn’t that just the capper, Blog? What kind of guy would think of such an amazing idea? Well, a guy I dreamed up, I guess, Blog. Sigh. You know, if I could just borrow T.J. Thyne to do a fake photoshoot to create that scrapbook, that in and of itself would be super fantastic.

I love Christmastime romantic fantasies, don’t you? Anyone out there have a holiday date idea I left out? Want to tell me who you’d pick for your fantasy date? Anyway, I hope my doozy imagination inspired a few people to do some Christmas dreaming.