Friday morning, I started talking to a new guy on Hinge. In the afternoon, he suggested I join him and his friends (along with his sister and cousin…) at a Brazilian dance bar that night. The other option would be to “be normal” and meet for coffee at some point (oh, he’s a recovering alcoholic). But he doesn’t go out often because he usually works weekends, and I wanted to check out this bar, so I rounded up a willing wing woman and told him I’d be there. (As soon as we got to the bar, we randomly ran into another wonderful wing woman of mine, and I felt popular as ever :D)
The bar was super loud, which made it nearly impossible for me to hear anything anyone was saying. Not exactly ideal for a first date, but ideal for forcing two new people to dance together. He is white as can be, but has moves for days. He made me look like shit—which doesn’t happen that often in my white-washed bubble. Ever since I danced with that model in Cuba, I knew I could never go back to awkward, boring grinding; so could this be the rhythmic boy band member of my dreams? Perhaps. We danced and made out and I left on the early side, but we made plans to see each other the next day.
On Saturday, it was raining and I felt weird about asking him to color soberly, so I decided that we should see a movie and get dinner. The movie was about Hasidic Jewish lesbians, and we held hands for 70% of it, including the sex scene. We ate dinner (I had one glass of wine), and then he invited me to meet his cats. As we talked and kissed on his couch, we discovered a connection: his mother is married to the father of my boss. They’ve only met once or twice, so I doubt she’d consider him her stepbrother, but that is definitely what he is if we’re getting technical. Small. Fucking. World!! Plus, it made me feel more comfortable staying the night knowing that he wasn’t a completely random stranger.*
We had a lot of fun, and it was pretty nice not having to wonder if he was doing/saying stuff purely because of alcohol’s dubious influence. But of course, that does not necessarily preclude him from being a player/asshole, so my guard is still up. We talked about hanging out next weekend, and I can only hope he’s a man of his word.
Also, he’s comically addicted to Diet Coke, but at least it’s a better vice than the hard stuff!
*To all my coworkers: this absurd discovery is currently a secret, so please keep it to yourselves.