Eighty-two

A few months ago there was a two week span when several of my friends were out of town, and I found myself at the gym two weekends in a row. Now, I'm not really a person that consistently exercies, so I considered it a state of emergency that I ended up working out so regularly; the clear solution for this new chaos in my life was to start online dating.

Within a week, I had my first date set up. Eighty-two suggested karaoke, which if this date was on a points system, he earned 25 bonus points for that plan. He then earned an extra 15 points for choosing and totally owning the performance of a random song in Mandarin although he doesn't speak or read Mandarin. During the conversation portions of the date, roughly 157 points were deducted. At no point was he rude or inappropriate, but was super quirky with no train of thought (or was just someone that wanted to see how many ridiculous things he could say before a date walked out on him or he was wearing an earpiece and someone was telling him absurd things to say). Here are my two favorite highlights from our "conversations."

1) He had mentioned that he had just returned to the states after living in Europe for ten years. When I asked where he had been living, he told me Berlin and Amsterdam and then without missing a beat he said, "I think I have a pimple here [pointing at his upper, inner thigh]. You know the kind that hurts, but you still want to touch it."

2) While walking to get food I suggested burritos and he asked where I go for burritos. I named my favorite taqueria in the city and he responded, "Oh I know that place. The last time I was there the smell reminded me of the Lusty Lady. [insert blank stare from me] You don't know the Lusty Lady? I don't know if it's still there, but it was a peep show where you pay a dollar to jerk off."

The date amazingly lasted almost two hours with other charming commentary from Eighty-two and lots of neutral and blank stares from me as I continued to mildly react with "Uh-uh, okay, oh." If I was on some kind of hidden camera show I personally think I should have won $5000 for not reacting, but I guess that doesn't make for fun TV.

Eighty-one

I like baseball, but I admit that flirting during a game makes those innings a little more fun. When the guy in front of me was trying to wave down his friend I decided to help and immediately befriended they guy at which we were waving. While he and his friends (two couples, him, and two other guys) sat in front of my friends and me, he and I chatted it up and discussed important topics such as what our super powers would be. Eighty-one's was the human shield, and I made him promise to protect me if any baseballs came flying at me during the game.

The banter between us was so obvious that my friend down the row texted me at one point, "Get that number!" As the night got colder and my group prepared to leave, I wrote down my name and number and along with my potential super power "Making people happy (nope, too cheesy). Something with glitter, but not in a stripper kind of way." I tapped him on the shoulder, handed him the paper and said, "We're leaving, but I wrote down my number and potential super power for you." He stared at me and replied, "Ohhhh myyy godddd." I took that as a good sign and told him bye and caught up with my friends.

I never heard from Eighty-one, so either the paper flew out of his hands and was swept away further from a home run ball, or "Ohhhh myyy godddd" could have several different meanings other than "Yes - I will definitely call you!" I realize that I should have waited to hear what else he had to say. I've listed a few possible things he might have wanted to tell me:

- I'm married but my ring is in the shop
- I don't believe in phones
- I like guys
- I'm leaving for witness protection program tomorrow
- I'm a priest

Next time I'll wait for the guy's follow up statement.

Eighty

Fact: I'm a sucker for guys that like to dance; it doesn't matter if they're great dancers, as longs as they're having fun and just don't care. Eighty had been making appearances on the dance floor with a couple of his friends and always having fun and cheering on others. He has a contagious smile, great laugh, annnnnnnnd is probably way too young for me. One week he and his friends joined my friend and me on the dance floor and my friend later told me she thought Eighty was into me. I couldn't tell because he seemed equally friendly to everyone to me, but the next week he saw me across the dance floor and made a point to come introduce his other friends to me and stuck by me the rest of the night. At one point I told him to brace himself because (a) I was going to leave after a couple more songs and (b) that I wouldn't be there the following week. He asked where I was going to be the next week, and I told him my parents were going to be in town. He exclaimed, "Bring them here!" I laughed and replied that I thought it was too soon for him to meet them. Fact: he thinks I'm funny. We continued to dance and I asked what happened to his friends and he pointed them out across the bar; when I asked why he wasn't them he sweetly said, "Because you said you were about to leave. I can join them later."

I hugged him and told him bye, and then as I was chatting with the bouncer on my way out I saw Eighty's jacket and thought it would be cute to put my number in his pocket. I grabbed a bar promo card, wrote my number on it, and put it the front pocket. After I got on my bus I realized I hated that idea because I wouldn't know if he found it and what if he's one of those people that washes their clothes without checking the pockets and then there's shreds of paper all over everything, ugh.

I didn't hear from him, but a couple weeks later on a random night I was about to head home from dancing and was just walking out when he and his friends were walking by and decided to come in, so of course I stayed. I was all prepared to tell him about how I'd put my number in his pocket when I noticed a girl in the group standing precariously close to him. I observed them for a bit while we all danced and decided that they were newly dating. In my professional opinion they'd probably gone out once or twice and then he'd invited her out with his friends, so I decided to leave it alone. I haven't seen him since so I assume he's madly in love and curled up with his lady watching RomComs.

79.1

It had been a week since I'd given Seventy-nine my number when he finally texted me, "Hi Penelope! I won't be there tonight, but I'd love to spend time with you later this week." We coordinated and made plans to meet up after work another day. That day at work was rough mentally and emotionally, so I was probably not in the best mental state for a first date. Add to that the fact that I never had time to grab food after work and then met Seventy-nine at a bar for a drink, so I was all over the place. I did my best to pull myself together as we sat in a booth at a quiet bar and talked.

When we left the bar he immediately and very naturally held my hand as he took me to get a pint of ice cream to share while we walked around. At some point he made a reference to The Simpsons and I broke it to him that I've never been in to any of those animated shows, to which he commented "Well, this is going to be a short-lived, but fun relationship."

Facts I learned about Seventy-nine during our date: he's from Mexico but lived in France from ages 3-18. He moved to the states for college and decided to stay. He's lived in SF for more than 10 years and is a year older than I am. Music festivals and Burning Man are major passions of his, and for work he does something with tech and video games that went way over my head.

At the end of the evening he asked what my weekend plans were and suggested that we could go out again. I hesitated. I don't know why, but I did. He could sense it and said that we should touch base on Sunday and meet up. On my way home I thought about how he was nice and interesting, but that I wasn't really into him - classic NGB (nice guy, but....). We texted each other on Sunday and decided neither of us had time to meet. The following day he sent me a polite and mature message, "Hi Penelope. After some reflection, I don't think there's a spark for us to pursue a romantic relationship, but I hope that we can be friends and if nothing else dance partners." Phew! What a relief that we were on the same page and that he initiated the conversation rather than the all too popular "ghosting" technique that people seem to do these days. I replied to his message that I felt the same and that we could definitely be friends and tear up the dance floor together. I haven't seen him since, but I did reach out to him a few weeks later and told him we missed him on the dance floor, and he said he'd be back soon.

Seventy-nine gives me hope for the dating world that there are great guys out there and that they are fun AND mature.

Seventy-Nine

Seventy-nine has made somewhat regular appearances where I go dancing, and he's always having the time of his life dancing and become part of the regular group - this group consists of those of us that go dancing at this spot, sometimes on our own and sometimes friends join us, regularly enough that we all gravitate towards each other on the dance floor and have become friends. You are always guaranteed to have at least one dance floor friend so you're never alone, but there are usually a handful of us dancing the night away together.

Until one night, when it was just Seventy-nine and me. It was a crowded night, so Seventy-nine said our goal was to get to the corner where we'd be bumped less. We eventually made it and were dancing in much closer proximity with each other than usual. You know what happened next - a great song came on, we danced, he twirled me, and the next thing I know we were kissing and smiling more than we were before. I swear that was never my plan! I always thought Seventy-nine was fun and handsome (and yes, he had a solid beard), but I'd never thought about pursuing him. However, after we kissed the first time I laughed and said, "The corner!" He asked if that was my plan the whole time, and I politely reminded him he was the one with the mission to get to the corner. We continued to dance (and kiss) and when he left he asked for my number "...in case we wanted to dance again."

Seventy-Eight

In case you were wondering, I still adore bike couriers. Luckily working the front desk at a busy building allows me plenty of opportunities to meet and chat with some of SF's finest and get to know their personalities - they range from "I just wanna get high and ride my bike all day" to "I get payed to do what I love" to "Hurry up, I have 75 more jobs after this one, and I've worked 9 days straight to pay my bills." Seventy-eight falls between the latter two. One of his fellow couriers once described him as, "He only has one emotion, aggro." Seventy-eight (and the majority of the other couriers) and I have built relationships with our short and sporadic chats when they come through to the point if I see them when I'm out of the office we holler at each other and they even let me hug them (I've learned/been told that couriers in general are not huggers, but they tolerate my love of hugs).

While I would agree that Seventy-eight could definitely be aggro, he's always been nice to me and made me laugh, and I'm a sucker for a dry sense of humor and a side of sarcasm. It had been a few days since I'd seen Seventy-eight, which tends to be an impetus for me, "Haven't seen them, must ask them out immediately" kind of syndrome; so I sent him a message asking if he'd like to get a drink after work the next day. The following afternoon he replied, "I just got back into town, so I'm going to kick it at my house." The common sense Penelope knows that means he's probably not interested, since there was not counter offer, but the stubborn Penelope that wants to go on a date ignores any logic.

The following week I sent another message - correction as I was thinking about what to send my friend grabbed my phone and sent "Let's meet up" for me. After checking my messages every few minutes, Seventy-eight finally replied, "What are your intentions by asking me to hang?" In real life, I kind of screamed, however my official response to him was, "You seem cool, so I thought a date would be fun. If you're not into it, totally fine, but thought I'd ask." Without delay he said, "I appreciate the compliment and I think you're cool, too. Unfortunately, my girlfriend will kick both our asses if I agreed to a date." Again in real life I muttered, "Then you should start mentioning your girlfriend or post pictures of her because I had no idea" but I kept it cool and replied, "Haha, that's a solid reason. I hate being punched in the face. See you around in the lobby." I kid you not, a week later, he posted his first picture of his lady...either it was a new relationship or he thought, "I must be a hot commodity; better let the ladies know I'm off the market." Either way, we're good and still chat when he comes in to my building, and now the world of social media is aware of his relationship status.

Carpenters & Caterers

Working the front desk at a large company means that I get to talk with all kinds of vendors - from deliverers, caterers, to event set up crews - that may be around for a day, week, or regular occurences.

The carpenter was in for a week assisting with an event set up, and I got to know him a bit. He was from the East Coast and had long, unruly hair, a shaggy beard, and the overall style of a nomad. On his third day there, I passed him in the hall when I was taking a break and invited him to get ice cream. I learned that he was new to the Bay Area and builds adorable tiny houses. On his fifth and last day I gave him my phone number and told him to call me if he ever wanted to meet up...he never called.

The caterer would come in almost every Friday, and we'd chat when he checked in each week. He was clean cut with a simple t-shirt and jeans style. One week he mentioned the neighborhood he lived in, and I told him that one of my favorite restaurants in the city was an Indian place near him. The following week I gave him my number and told him I'd love to go to the Indian restaurant with him. He never called and coincidentally he hasn't been back to cater.

Maybe I won't give my number to people that come into work anymore...maybe.