There’s a wonder I experience whenever I’m going to meet a date for the first time. There really is never a more perfect time than right before you meet someone, when the infinite possibilities of the chance of meeting your one great love envelop you with light and hope. There is nothing else that compares.
My stomach flutters as I walk into the bar. I scan the room and spot him towards the back, holding a beer and chatting with some men standing next to a pool table. At least I think that’s him. His beard hasn’t been trimmed in a long time, nothing like it looked in his profile pic. It’s long and scraggly and there might be a bit of food in it but I’m not sure, he’s too far away and it’s a bit dark. To be fair, we are just coming out of pandemic lockdown. He’s been working his IT management job from home for nearly a year.
He’s buttoned his shirt wrong, which is actually a bit endearing, but why wasn’t he paying more attention when he was preparing for our date? At least he’s wearing a shirt with buttons and not a faded holey Grateful Dead t-shirt like the last guy I met. He’s shorter than I prefer. Damn. I should have asked him how tall he was when we were messaging.
He looks up from the game, scans the room and catches my eye, recognizing me immediately, probably because all my profile pics are current! He smiles broadly and waves excitedly. I hesitate a moment, take a quick inventory of all the exit signs in the room, then think to myself “what the fuck”, smile big, hold my arm high and wave back.
What happens next? HA! I made this all up and I have no idea what happens next! Is it a crash and burn? Or does he turn out to be “The Guy”? It really truly could go either way. But the important thing is, I’m taking the chance, I’m taking the risk. And I’m not doing it for him, I’m doing it for me. Because what is my mantra? STAY OPEN!