We agreed to meet on a Sunday at one of those coffee shops that stands on every main street corner of every major city. How cliché, I thought, meeting a guy in a coffee shop. I actually first talked to him via e-mail.
My little sister had posted a profile on one of those dating websites, and me, being both curious and bored decided to do the same. A lot of guys emailed me and I talked to them on instant messenger for a little while before blocking them, none of them really sparked my interest, until this guy came along.
He lived on the north side of town, the Gold Coast area as its known. We talked for a little while and I discovered that we had quite a few things in common. We liked the same music, had the same ideas about life, and here’s the kicker, we were born on the same day of the same month. He was nine years older though.
So we first met in one of those coffee shops that are on every street corner of every major city. He, being six feet tall to my measly five three, stooped down and gave me a hug. I, not expecting this, awkwardly returned it.
He set off at a smooth gait down the street, while I stumbled along beside him, trying to keep up. We were going to his apartment so he could get his hat. It was the end of March in Chicago and his shaved head looked like it might be cold, so I had agreed to go, while the words of my mother echoed back at me. “Don’t go to his house.”
I shrugged her off as I followed, thinking, “Oh well, at least he’s an attractive serial killer.” His place was only a couple of blocks away and had a doorman. He could be used as a witness in case this guy tried to get me, I thought.
When we went up to his apartment (he had already described it to me online), it looked just like he said it did. He had two fold up chairs holding up his television set, a futon, and two air mattresses. The apartment was a studio, which was pretty much one big room with a kitchen, a bathroom, and a closet. We both laughed at his décor. He grabbed his hat and we set off for Michigan Avenue. We were heading to the movies to see “Be Cool.”
We walked to the theater, which was several blocks away. He talked the whole time and I observed him, because that’s what I do. He carried his hat all the way to our destination. When we got to the theater, he bought our tickets while I stood there holding my wallet, staring as he started to leave the counter. Seeing as how we were supposed to be hanging out as friends, his behavior confused me, I was used to paying my own way.
Shrugging off my confusion, I followed him to the designated room where they were showing our movie. During the movie, he offered me some of his Coca Cola, which I declined, since I don’t drink after friends, family, or strangers. He held my hand after he finished his drink, confusing me again since I don’t hold hands with my friends!
When we left the theater, it was dark out and we went back to his place where he ordered us a large pizza and we watched TV until I got sleepy. He drove me home and gave me a goodnight kiss before I exited his car. When I went into my house, it finally clicked that he wasn’t trying to be my friend, as he first stated. I was ok with it though. He was nice and he was interesting, even though he worked in the corporate world.
The cold months passed with me meeting him downtown after he got off work or coming over to his apartment on the weekends to watch movies. We consumed much pizza during this time, and the people who did phone orders at Giordano’s came to recognize his phone number and know him by name, much to our amusement.
During the summer he introduced me to his love of disc golf, which after I got the hang of it turned out to be pretty cool. We went to the beach and played Frisbee and I waded into Lake Michigan for the first time. I’ve always thought that the water was dirty and polluted and that I should stay far from it, but he got me to go in.
It was during these warm, fun filled months that I discovered I had fallen in love with him at some point. It was shortly after this that disaster struck. We were talking on the instant messenger, as we usually did when we weren’t hanging out, when he informed me that he was moving to Seattle. I learned the art of hiding what I really feel back in the day when I wanted to be a lawyer, so I took the light hearted approach and told him it sounded cool and that he should have fun. Of course my poor little heart was totally crushed. He called the next day and gave me THE TALK, which confused me because he didn’t outright break up with me. He said that he didn’t want me to end up with a broken heart because he was moving, but he liked to move around. But nothing was set in stone. We didn’t talk for a while after that.
He called me two months later attempting to clarify the first talk, pretty much saying the same thing and apologizing. We hung out one last time and watched one of my favorite TV shows. He moved away a little while after that I guess, and I warily started a new semester of school. C’est la vie.