I’ve always appreciated the story of a good ‘meet cute’ as they say in Hollywood – a couple’s first encounter. Something about the kismet from a unique story has always seemed so romantic.
With the last few guys I’ve dated, I have had fairly good answers to the too-be-expected, “How did you too meet” inquiry. Before the classic Lure of the Lobster Halloween incident there was the college boyfriend who I got to know during a first-semester workout class at the U.T. gym. “We met in P.E.” always sufficed as a good story since he clearly had to really like me for me since I was dripping with sweat, and not in a sexy way.
I can’t help it now, though, when quasi searching for a serious relationship, to insist on wanting to date someone I meet in an exceptional way. I would much prefer a, "He stuck his hand through the closing subway doors to give me his business card,” to a, “I met him at Tenjune,” not that there’s anything wrong with that.
Unfortunately I spend substantially more time gussying up for a night in Meatpacking than I do for any of my trips on the subway. Such is life...I will probably die alone.
No comments:
Post a Comment