Did you know “Boilermaker” is a real job, still? Yup.
And I’m dating one.
His nickname among my friends is “lasagne man”, because for our second date he suggested he come to my place and would bring a home-made lasagne. Yes!
He showed up with lasagne, flowers, and 2 types of jam made by his Mom. What’s not to love?
But let me start at the beginning.
We met on Bumble. You may recall I opened my profile again, perhaps a couple of months ago. Typically, I didn’t stay there for very long. Many of the men were the same as before. Very few met my (basic) criteria – none of them physical, for the record. You can read about them if you haven’t before.
But let me go back to the beginning.
We had some good initial conversation on the site. We moved to text and discovered our schedules were going to be a challenge. His children are a couple of hours in one direction and he spends some weekends a month with them in his home town. His work is an hour in the opposite direction and his schedule alternates from day to night shifts.
Add to that my week-on week-off schedule and we knew it wasn’t a slam dunk to meet for a quick coffee one day after (my) work.
In the midst of a text conversation, I suggested we move to phone and we proceeded to have a very easy and interesting dialogue. As you know, I wouldn’t normally continue an ongoing text dialogue for a couple of weeks without meeting someone, so knowing we had a basic intellectual connection made me willing to keep it going.
And then he ghosted.
I suppose it’s cynicism and learned self-protection, but I rarely get super excited about men anymore until after a few dates. There was only one exception – Kyle – and the interrupted nature of our courtship put me off balance.
So I was mildly disappointed that he disappeared but not crushed.
A week later, he came back, with a message to the effect of “Ann I’m so sorry, I forgot my phone at my Mom’s and didn’t have it all week at work. I hope you didn’t think I disappeared and would still love to meet you.”
I believed him and said of course I still wanted to meet.
A week later we found ourselves chatting over drinks. He’s my height, and I find him attractive despite his carrying about 30 extra pounds around his middle. Dude’s got quite the gut. He’s a big guy anyway – the very wide shoulders of a former wrestler and shot putter.
I started writing a bunch of comparisons just now – how he lacked the polish of one or the intellect of another – but it doesn’t matter. It’s that kind of thinking which reinforces the worst of dating – there’s always someone better lurking (!) around the next corner or swipe. Which we know isn’t true.
So here’s what I liked about him: he was easy to talk to. He was able to talk about current events. He had a sense of humor. He wasn’t a player. He wasn’t dating multiple women. He asked me questions about my background and what I thought about things. He was curious. He was complimentary but not overly so.
He asked if he could walk me to my door, and then he kissed me.
And the kiss was very good.
Very, very, good.
We agreed on the street that we needed to book a second date, preferably where we could kiss in private.
Consider it done. Alan made it to a second date.