We met for happy hour in the Tex Mex place by the water. I like that place and it’s quiet in the winter. Plus, if I’d been stood up, I totally could have read my book and eaten that plate of tacos alone. Not a problem.
He texted me to let me know he’d be about ten minutes late. I ordered a beer and propped up my phone to read, and there he was.
He’s cute and has a big smile. He’s wearing a dark hoodie, a down vest, jeans. Cool chunky eyeglasses. He’s got a big watch on his wrist and a signet ring.
I looked up the ring, of course, after my BFF said, “I bet it’s a fraternity thing.”
Today, Prince Hall Freemasonry remains the largest and oldest African American fraternity in the world. Yeah, that pencils out, assuming I got it right.
He’s new to town, he’s been here a mere six months, and he’s still very much enchanted by the city. It’s sweet to be reminded of what that felt like. He’s still exploring the neighborhoods, figuring out where he wants to settle on a more permanent basis.
“I’ve always wanted to live here,” he said. “I couldn’t tell you why, exactly, maybe I watched too much Frasier.” He says we make too much of our traffic. “In Atlanta, you’ve got eight lanes of nonsense all day long. This is nothing.”
He’s a digital strategy guy for an older tech company. He’s got the cool job in an industry dominated by engineers. We manage to avoid talking about the pandemic, though we both agree that it’s been good for one thing: we get to work remote now, no questions. “I’m not going back to the office, ever,” he says. “No way.”
He’s been in his job for 15 years. He’s probably going to be able to retire. Old school. This seems so exotic to me, a person who is in their first day job since the 90s. I’m surrounded by people who make much riskier choices with their lives in pursuit of something other than financial stability. He talks about this openly, about how he left the south because salaries are higher on the west coast. I consider the watch he’s wearing, is it a corporate gift for a certain number of years with the same employer, or is it a signifier of class? It could be both.
It’s a nice date. He’s nice. He’s polite to the waiter, attentive, he keeps his phone in his pocket except to show me something specific, then he puts it away again. There are no awkward silences. He does a lot of talking, but he does not say anything that makes me roll my eyes. I have read that straight guys talk too much on early dates because they’re in marketing mode. They can’t help themselves and in the absence of other red flags, you could, if you’re so inclined, give them a minute to get past it.
The bar should not be this low. The bar is, in fact, this low.
I get a good “we could be friends” vibe. I don’t get any crazy chemistry hits but I don’t get an overwhelming “nope,” either.
He texted me on the app later that night.
“I enjoyed meeting you. I’d like to hang out again sometime.”
I sent him my number.