you’re from where??

Why, oh why must the world play sick jokes on me?  I recently met up with a guy from Match.  We’d been emailing back and forth for awhile and he suggested we take it off-line.  As I’m not necessarily ready to date, I headed into the meeting pretty ambivalent and unenthusiastic.  I was not nervous.  I didn’t do any extra primping to make myself pretty.  The poor guy got the bare minimum effort of me checking to make sure my mascara wasn’t too smudged before we met.

So, anyway, we meet at the designated location.  First thing I notice is of course, he’s shorter than what he said.  I’m pretty sure he said 5’8 in his profile.  I had on maybe 3-inch heeled boots, which boosted me to at most 5’5 and I was almost as tall as him.  But whatever.  The bar we met at was pretty crowded with nowhere to find a place to sit, so we took it to another bar around the corner.

Successfully sitting at a high top table, we ordered some beer, apps and start chatting.  I wasn’t blown away by the guy, but I wasn’t turned off either.  He was good looking and nice enough.  We had a pleasant conversation for a first meeting and I beat him in a game of air hockey on his iPad.  Overall, I didn’t want to run into traffic in a mad suicide dash escape.  That’s a positive, right?

You may be asking yourself why is the world playing a sick game with me?  Well, this guy, let’s call him Jack, and I start talking about where we grew up.  I mention Westchester.  He mentions Staten Island.  Shit.  I fucking hate Staten Island.  That borough will forever haunt me.  I don’t know if I ever mentioned it before, but Staten Island is where St. Elmo’s ex lives.  So any mention of that place reminds me of her, which just leaves a bad taste in my mouth.  I never had an issue with it before this past year, but now…ugh, it’s like nails on a chalkboard.  I don’t think I projected a look of vile disgust when he said that he grew up there, but who knows?

After a couple hours, we called it a night and we walked to the subway station and said our goodbyes.  My thoughts?  Ehh.  Still indifferent.  Would I hang out again if he asks?  Probably.  Will I be upset if he blows me off?  Not in the least.

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3 Comments

  1. Ahh the sign of a good internet date ‘not wanting to throw yourself into traffic’. 😉 Loving the ambivalence, Amy. Training wheels, my friend, you’re just getting warmed up.

  2. Hahahahah…you sound like me, “all he got was a check to be sure my mascara wasn’t smudged”….I sooo laughed!! I do think there are definitely some strange ironies that follow us around in life, perplexing us, haunting us, irritating the hell out of us…
    Yeah, ok…so mostly irritating the hell out of us, but regardless, I have to think there’s a reason you have this response, connection, emotional trigger to this borough. But, I’m weird like that, I always need to tell myself there’s a bigger meaning I just don’t understand (YET) in order to remain(relatively) sane and in good humor…
    Could be the case…ya never know!
    xo

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