My very last…

In October of 2008 two friends of mine came over with several bottles of red wine. And likely some cheese and snacks, because they are good like that.  We got to talking about boys and dating and my “plans” for the future.  I decided I was done man/dad shopping and it was high time I availed myself of the many splendors of living in a college town.

As the third bottle was opened we were shopping through her facebook friends.  And there he was.  “That one.  With his tongue out. Who makes the Blue Steel face. He’s fantastic.”

My friend said he was perfect.  Smart.  Funny.  Not so young that we’d have nothing to talk about.  But he’d likely not want to spend the evening comparing jogging strollers.  Or divorce attorney war stories.

It was after midnight when she handed me the phone.  He was driving back from a concert in Maryland, Virginia, maybe?  I’d had just enough to drink that the details are hazy.  But the long and short of it was that it was decided we’d have dinner on Monday night.  Em was at her dad’s.  I was free as a bird.  His voice on the phone was perfect.

We exchanged a few texts on Monday evening.  He was right on time.  He got out of his car.  In a long grey overcoat.  He took me to dinner at Glass Half Full.  Much like the night we got engaged, neither of us were particularly hungry.  We pushed food around.  We drank wine.  We laughed.

We were having fun so we went to the Speakeasy across the street for  a few beers.  It got easier to laugh.  He was easy to be around.  Whip smart.  And funny.

He brought me home.  We came inside and I decided waiting until the end of the night to get our first kiss out of the way was too long.  So we took care of that.  And then we talked and laughed some more.  And he went home.

At 8:30 the next morning he sent me this email.

I had fun last night and I think you’re pretty fucking cool.  This morning, I was right in the middle of my sequence of alarms to get out of bed, but you’re voicemail was the one that actually gave me the good kick to get moving.  It put me in a good mood. :) So I’m saying that I had a good time and I’d like to hang out with again.


Two days later I had seen him two more times.  And at 9:30 that morning I sent him this email.

I feel more like me than I have in ages.

And that was my very last first date.



7 responses to “My very last…

  1. Pingback: 40 weeks | Excitement on the side

  2. You see, THIS is the reason Facebook exists. Man stalking. I keep saying it. Happy anniversary y’all!

  3. You were meant for each other; you really would have met without me, I’m aware. I’m just glad the Fates let me pretend that it’s all thanks to me!

  4. I’d never heard of Ottobar in my life, but this is the second reference I’ve come across in the past ~2 hours. Maybe it’s a sign that I can get a puppy soon.

  5. I love that you kept the email. I have ours too :) Happy 3 year anniversary to both of you crazy kids. xoxo

  6. I was in the car with Brian. We just came from a World/Inferno Friendship Society Show at the Ottobar in Baltimore. We also just observed a few ladies with their car hugging a lampost. Some cops were with them. They were fine. The half drunk half gallon of Jack Daniels on their hood was not.

Gimme some love!! Please?

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