On manners

Call me old-fashioned, but telling me that my breasts look so great in my shirt that you've been staring at them all night is not as smooth as politely asking for my number.

Seattle's a small city, and it was bound to happen at some point.  I was out with friends for bar trivia, when a man I met online a month ago walked into the same bar and sat down at the table next to me.  I quickly turned my head away and begged my friend for the use of her smart phone, making a beeline to the bathroom and logging into my OkCupid account so I could look up his name.  I did spend 2 hours of my life with him, after all.

Spending the night with my head tilted in the opposite direction of his chair did not seem like a kind thing to do to a former date- or a healthy position for my cervical paraspinal muscles- so after I located his name I went over and said hi.  He did not appreciate my friendly gesture or return any eye contact, and I still spent the rest of the night with my neck in a crick.

When I got home I had a new message from him in OkCupid, congratulating me on placing in trivia.  Because in this city, we can only communicate with each other online.

It ended just as quickly as it began.  After talking or texting every day for a month, my New York lover and friend of a friend of a friend told me that he changed his plans.  He'd started dating a coworker more seriously and thought that moving across the country to be with a girl who he'd spent 36 hours with wasn't such a hot idea after all.  Sounds reasonable enough.

With nothing else on my dating plate right now, it is a little disappointing.  But the glass is half full!  I now know I am good enough in bed to warrant the possibility of a 2000 mile relocation.