June 26, 2010. I'd spent most of the day cleaning house and making chicken salad. That evening John and I got in the car and went to Midtown to hang out with Jen and James.
(Every time I say "Jen and James" around my friend Laurie she always says "you were hanging out with Jenna Jameson?" because ha ha pornstars!)
(An aside: for a couple of weeks before this I'd had a profile on a dating website called okcupid. Why was I on this website? Because it was free and, as I'd explained to both Laurie and James, "I'm not real interested in dating, but I'm interested in doing some of the things people do when they date. If you know what I mean. And I mean having sex." I'd talked to a couple of women from this website, but I hadn't met anyone I was too excited about. I did send a little hi-how-are-ya note to a certain blonde, though. Keep reading.)
So I'm sitting on Jen and James' couch and we're shooting the shit about the World Cup and most likely drinking beer and eating chicken salad. I ask Jen if I can use her computer to check Facebook. She said yes.
And there was a friend request. It was from a name that meant nothing to me...put the picture was a little bit familiar...so I looked at the profile...and thought about it for a little while...
And then I remembered! It was the blonde! From okcupid! Her name was Gretchen. I accepted the friend request.
And she was online, so we started talking. She explained that she'd searched for my name (which she got from okcupid - it was on my profile) on Facebook, but she wasn't stalking me or anything. I assured her I didn't think she was stalking me.
It was a fun talk. Funny and flirty and semi-dirty. I explained that I was separated, heading for divorce, one kid, two dogs, all that. She told me some stuff about her. At one point I slid across James' living room on my knees like a soccer player who's just scored the winning goal. This girl was cute! And interested in me! And at the very least moderately filthy!
I got her phone number. I got home late that night, put John in bed, and called her. I would later learn that Gretchen is not a late-stayer-upper. But we chatted for a bit and decided we'd get together and do something soon.
So that was nice!
The next morning I'm getting ready for church. I get a text message. The talk went something like this:
Her: Whatcha doing?
Me: Getting ready for church.
Her: Oh how interesting. Where do you go to church?
Me: First Congo. It's very hippie-dippie-lovie-feely-touchy.
Her: I've always meant to go to First Congo.
Me: Well you should go today.
Her: Well okay I will. See you there.
Now, on the fourth Sunday of each month First Congo does a thing called Food For Families. Nothing fancy, they just box up a ton of donated food and give it out to people who need it. It does require some unskilled labor the morning they do it, and I help with that. So I was unloading and bagging up fifty pound bags of...onions? Potatoes? One of the two. Whichever one it was, some of them were rotten and extra-stanky. So, by the time Food For Families was all set up I was sweaty and lightly glazed with rotten vegetables. I went to the bathroom and rinsed off as best I could.
And a few minutes later Gretchen walked in.
Was it love at first sight? I don't think so. I'm a little too old to believe in such things. She was awfully good-looking, though, which never hurts. And she was funny, with a quick smile, and some truly striking green eyes. I liked her immediately.
So, yes: our first date was at church. With my kid. Romance!
After church we walked over to the Deli. Gretchen gave John quarters for video games, which made him automatically think well of her. I was distracted by her cleavage, and told her so. She took it well.
Afterwards John and I walked her to her car - a black Mini convertible. It was as perfect a match of car to person as I'd ever seen. I gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek.
Success!
John and I went swimming at my sister's house that afternoon, and he was snoozing by the time we got home. Gretchen had been called in to work that night. When she got off, she gave me a call. I invited her over. She came.
We sat on the couch for a couple of hours and talked. Lots of deep dark secrets revealed, all that. And made out a little bit, like you do. Nothing your average high school couple wouldn't do, though.
The next day she sent me a text. She had the day off. Would I like to have lunch? I said yes. It was the first time I'd seen her in shorts. She had - and has - fairly amazing legs. Good to know!
Back at work she laid a big wet kiss on my before she dropped me off.
"Well," I thought, "some of my coworkers might wonder who that was." But no one said anything.
The next night John was off with his mom. I called Gretchen to see if she wanted to go get some sushi or a drink or something. She had to go to bed fairly early, though, so she asked me to come over to her place and hang out for a while. I did. We had a good time.
On the way home, Queen's Somebody To Love came on the radio. I sang, loudly and badly, the windows down, me trying (and failing) to hit all the notes as I crossed the bridge.
As the song ended, I had a thought.
If this girl isn't crazy, or at least not crazy in any bad, horrible way, I thought, then this could be something really good.
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