Now that the Fringe is finally over and my weekend of rest and relaxation (and faculty meetings) has come to a close, it’s time to get back to the heart of the matter, i.e. Date #6.
Yes, you read that correctly. I said “Date #6” not “Date #7,” although they do share a first name and enjoy the same sports so it can get a bit confusing at times. Date #7 was the one who called last week to inform me that he would not be able to come to my show. (Seeing as he lives in Pittsburgh, however, I was prepared for this and managed to avoid the requisite meltdown).
Date #6 was the one who initially invited me to meet for drinks “just as friends” during the early days of my Great Date Experiment. After a quick and admittedly rash assessment of our chemistry, I decided that there was none (chemistry, that is) and decided he was entirely too nice (i.e. normal) to ever hold my interest as more than a friend.
But we kept in touch, and over the course of the past year, we’ve met up for drinks several times and it was he who attempted to teach me enough about hockey to make quasi-intelligent conversation with Date #7 during my visit to Pittsburgh last month.
Of course, Date #7 has never cared very much for Date #6 (go figure), and my crash course in hockey talk didn’t really work, but isn’t a girl allowed to have a few strictly platonic male friends to take her out to lunch and walk her home and buy her drinks and listen to her complain about her love life and accompany her to wacky Fringe events and put her to bed when she’s had a few too many glasses of wine at the official Festival Bar?
Evidently not.
Also, that’s not all that happened last Monday night.
Unfortunately, the rest will have to wait until tomorrow because I’m due back at The School in just under an hour and I have my first five-class marathon of the school year to teach this evening.
Suffice it to say it wasn’t anxiety that had me up at 4:00am last Tuesday. It was something else.
Related articles
- Pittsburgh, Part 1 (katrichterwrites.wordpress.com)
