Date #10 asked to meet me at the same Starbucks as Date #9 did. Considering the memories of Date #9 still gave me the heebie-jeebies, I was nonplussed regarding the location. Besides, that particular Starbucks leaves a funny smell in your clothes that you don't notice until you get home.
I thought Date #10 showed promise. He was an architect in his mid-thirties who lived on the same street as me. He remarked that the borough I live in is beautiful and he'd like to own a home there. The downside is that he remarked about a lot of things: his e-mails seemed like epic novels as he detailed his pastimes and even his texts were so long that they arrived in my inbox as three separate messages. But don't women complain that men never communicate? This could be a good thing.
He arrived a few minutes late and I was struck by the enormity of him. Online dating code stipulates to subtract two inches from a man's height, but Date #10 was all of his 6' 1" and 240 lbs. In the one good picture of him online, he had short brown hair covered by a golf visor. This was not the case anymore. His hair was now gray. Unruly, old man gray with a matching gray beard, grown presumably to hide the weight. He didn't look 36, he looked 46.
He was nice enough. Inoffensive. Didn't make fun of the handicapped like the last guy did.
"How has eHarmony been for you?" he asked.
"Well, I'm here. That's the short answer," I said. We traded bad dating stories and he apologized profusely for taking me to the same Starbucks.
He seemed lonely. I asked if he had ever been married and he said he hadn't. I asked how close he got. He told me about a relationship he was in a few years back. They had been together a couple of years and he was prepared to marry her. She, on the other hand, broke things off saying the fit wasn't right. He was comfortable, he said. I wondered if that was the problem.
"We're still friends. Actually I'm seeing her Wednesday night. She said I was the best person she's ever dated, but I don't why she would say that when she..." he trailed off.
"What are you looking for?" I asked.
"In a relationship? I'm looking for what I had with her. It was easy; I was comfortable," he repeated.
I felt bad for him. Obviously he still had feelings for her. I wondered if the girl he was hugging in his profile picture was her. The one of him when he was younger with brown hair, happy.
"What about you? What are you looking for?" he asked.
I sighed. I'm looking to feel the same way that I felt with Valdosta.
All of a sudden I understood him.