Friday, September 01, 2006

Funny story

While most of my dating energy was wrapped up in the David thing, I still have a few other irons in the fire. I have vague plans with a couple guys from the free site and a couple of emails flying with guys on the site that shall remain nameless.

I have been writing back and forth over the last week or so with "Garret," from the nameless site. The messages aren't very personal, but most recently he wrote, "Maybe a drink or coffee sometime...chat and see what we both look like in 3D? What do you think?" I suggested a couple times this weekend, but I hadn't heard back from him before I left work on Thursday. It was not a big deal. I have other things on my mind, and if it happens, it happens. If it doesn't, I won't mind.

At rowing practice, there were three new people. Two young women, fresh out of college, and a guy who completed the novice program a couple of months ago. The guy's name was Garret. I thought, "Is this the guy? No way." But, I kept looking at him and I thought it was the guy. That's nuts.

When you go to meet someone for an internet blind date, it's always easy to spot them. It's the person who is looking for someone. He will also look like that little tiny internet picture. Out of context, it's hard to recognize many of these folks because their pics aren't that good. Garret, I would have recognized in context…but at rowing practice? The context was all wrong, so I wasn't sure.

He didn't seem to pick up on it either. At practice, I look rather different than in my pictures—I have my hair in a ponytail and I wear a cap. It's almost like a disguise!

Practice was shorter than usual due to high winds and equipment problems. After, we went for drinks and food. Garret came along.

I didn't sit next to him, but we talked a little, in the group chatter. I noticed that he was looking at me--we made eye contact a few times--and I decided that, yes, he must be the guy. At the end of the evening, I got the email addresses of all the new people, including Garret, so I could add them to our email list—and that confirmed it—I recognized his email address. Then I had to use the rest room and I when I came back to the table, he was gone. Too bad, because I wanted to say something.

Who woulda thunk it?

When I got home last night, I sent Garret an email, "So, um, does that count as our first date? How funny."

He replied this morning, "Small world huh? Sorry I had to take off, I was meeting up with some friends after the h-hour. We can still get together for round #2."

I replied that getting together sounded like a fine idea, but I haven't heard from him yet. I don't know what's going to happen.

My impression of him from last night was good but not detailed. I was too busy working out the puzzle to get a feel for what he was like. He did laugh at a story I told and asked a few questions--to his credit. But he also said a few things that I thought were odd. For example, he lives in a very lively part of DC and he said, "It's too crazy on the weekends. I only go out Sunday through Thursday. If I go out. I don't go out very much." All I could think was, 'why do you live in that neighborhood when you could pay cheaper rent in a quieter area? Why would you choose that neighborhood at all? If you don't go out on the weekends, what are you doing? Sitting home and petting the cat?' (I'd be happy to pet Tabitha the cat, but she usually won't let me.) It didn't sound right. But, I won't judge a guy based on one off-hand comment at a happy hour. And he left to meet other friends after 9pm on a Thursday night, so he clearly has a life.

It's awkward, though. I'd rather not have had the internet introduction. I'm clearly not enthusiastic about him, but that could change. The fact that we will see each other often if he continues to come to practice is definitely going to affect the tenor of our first "date"—if it ever happens.

At the very least, I can let the other single women on the team know he's available if it turns out I'm not interested. I'm nothing if not a good public servant.

Grateful for: coincidences.

Drop me a line.

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