Tag Archives: Roommate

When That Might Not Be That

Wednesday found Roommate and I having a drink or several (hint: I awoke to my contacts glued to my eyes) at a local bar. Before things took a turn for the drunkish, however, I turned around from my seat and spied someone familiar, and he spied me.

I’d gone out with him once about three years ago, after months of mutual profile checking on an Intewebs dating site. We had met up at Lucky’s in Fort Point and had ourselves a good conversation over food and beer. He was creative, interesting to look at, and seemed like a decent fellow. There was just one thing: about half-way through dinner, a couple of his stories started sounding rather familiar. I realized that he had dated a friend of mine, semi-seriously, for a few months. Nothing bad, no hard feelings about the breakup, they remained friends, blah blah. I didn’t think it would cause an international incident with my friend, but still.  A little weird.

I had just broken up with someone not long before our date, and I was going to be leaving for Italy in a week or so. The timing combined with the potentially awkward situation didn’t leave me too keen on starting something with him. Then right after I got back from Italy I started talking to this guy, and things got serious rather fast. So that was that with that guy.

Or it was until about seven months ago when I ran into him again at a coffee shop just as I was leaving to go to a job interview. For someone I went out with once, years ago, I certainly remembered a lot about him. And it so happened that he remembered a lot about me. We chatted briefly, and I learned that he had been living in Somerville, not far from me, for a year or so. I had to run off to my interview (in retrospect, I probably just should have sat down and had a cup of coffee with him), so we said our goodbyes. And, again. That was that.

Until Wednesday, that is, when I saw him at the bar. He walked over, and reintroduced himself, unnecessarily. I reintroduced myself, unnecessarily. Looking confusedly at Rooommate (we’re great roommates, and one of the reasons for that is that there ain’t a snowball’s chance in Hades for anything like that happening), he raised his eyebrows, asking if I was on a date. I shook my head and said smiling, “No, he’s my roommate.”

We had a short conversation, but one long enough to make us wonder why we wouldn’t want to try hanging out again. “We should get a beer or something sometime,” I said to him.

“You’re right, we should. After all, we are neighbors.”

He went back to his seat, and Roommate and I went back to our drinks. On his way out the door, the guy came back, and handed me his e-mail address. “We should hang out sometime,” he said. I agreed and gave him my phone number.

The next day, after the fog had cleared, I pulled the little slip of paper with his e-mail address out of my purse. What the Hell, I thought, and I sent him a quick e-mail. And yesterday afternoon he called, leaving a message asking me if I was free that night. I wasn’t, but I left him a message saying that I was game for getting a drink sometime.

So that just might not be that.

Advertisements