Last night I agreed to meet a “stogger” (blog stalker of mine) for dinner and drinks.
Long story short? It was hands-down the best first date that I have ever been on. Which is truly unfortunate since he lives halfway across the country.
And already has a partner.
And it was never a “date” for him.
Allow me to back up.
PG (I shall call him PG, as those are his initials) discovered my blog through the blog kindness of others, and has followed me ever since. This is in spite of the fact that he doesn’t himself blog. Or tweet. Or bookface. Or anything!
Anyway… He knew where I lived and was going to be in town for business, so he dropped me an email and proposed meeting up for dinner.
At first I was afraid. I was petrified. Mainly because I couldn’t find a digital imprint of him anywhere and couldn’t figure out exactly who he was. I mean, I remembered exactly one particular conversation we had had in the past…
And that was it.
I didn’t know what he looked like, if he had any restraining orders, and if he might be “my number one fan”, etc. But my curiosity was definitely aroused.
And of course my ego was stroked, because hey. Blogging is all about external validation, right? And this guy follows my blog and hit me up for din din.
So after about 15 seconds of internal debate, I agreed.
I picked PG up at his hotel like a hooker– I even asked if he was “datin'” and how much he cost (yes, those were my actual first words to him) and then drove us to dinner.
I nearly drove us the wrong way down a one-way street as I was a bit… Distracted.
PG is ridiculously handsome. And I mean ridic. And charming. And full of energy. And fun. And smart! And did I mention handsome??
In other words, precisely the type of guy that would never go for me in a million years.
Regardless, we immediately started a burbling conversation the moment his ass landed in my car, and this conversation didn’t cease until I dropped him back at his hotel.
Have you ever met someone where conversation was just so effortless and you had similar frames of reference for everything and knew the same pop cultural bits and you had stories to tell and they had stories to tell and you couldn’t wait to share more and listen more and laugh more?
As my dear readers have probably picked up on, I’m mostly a bit of a loner. The majority of my time is spent keeping my own company and I don’t have many friends. Some friends, yes, but not many.
And I worry that the friends I do have don’t really get me as I can be a bit… quirky.
Ah, I bet y’all picked up on that too.
Most of the time I go through life feeling a bit alien. I interact with people, but I don’t seem to connect with them. I am not so egotistical that I think I’m on a different level or anything (although sometimes that factors in). It’s more like I’m always just slightly out of phase with everyone else.
I’ve lived this way for so long, I just sort of accept it as the natural way of things and don’t give it a second thought. And it takes a night like last night to remind me just how alone I am.
Because last night I suddenly, shockingly, happily wasn’t so alone anymore. I got to meet someone that got me and I felt connected…
I haven’t felt that way in a really really long time.
Case in point: over a beer, we were waxing rhapsodic about the giant crystal cavern in Mexico and how fucking cool it would be to visit them. I was going on about how giddy I would be, running around and sliding down them and how I wouldn’t care that the atmosphere is toxic and I would pull off my respirator even…
And I pantomimed being a kid and licking one of the big crystals.
And at the same time, and in the same Ralph Wiggam voice we both said, “Tastes like burning.”
Much laughter ensued.
And that may also have been the point where I fell the wee-ist bit in love with him.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and this stogger meet-up was no exception. He was here for business and needed to get back to his hotel to prepare for the next day.
Dropping him off was much more difficult than I was prepared for.
It’s hard to go back to the status quo, ya know?
Re-reading this post, I know how it sounds. But I’m not going to edit it. Even though I know PG will read this and probably delete all links to my blog afterward.
But I don’t care.
Actually that’s a lie. I do care.
I hope that we can somehow forge a friendship– even though he lives so far away and made it miserably clear that he is happily partnered/married/boyfriended.
But being a realist, I know that it is highly probable this singular meeting will be it, and that distance and circumstances will prevent us from ever hanging out again.
Such is the nature of the universe, I fear. That being said, I’m only left with this:
PG, it sure was nice to meet you last night. It was a lovely, refreshing three hour oasis for me.
I thank you for that.