A dear friend at work set us up. Two weeks ago on a Thursday night we met at the Caffe Trieste in North Beach. (Which was actually kind of a funny place for me, since an old boyfriend of mine practically lives there. Being the courteous ex-girlfriend, I e-mailed said ex, Tony, that I might be running into him, because last I heard, Tony was dating someone (30 years younger!) who hung out at the Trieste with him -- along with yet another of his old girlfriends. But it will take a full post to introduce Tony. Now, I will tell you only that he has fictionalized me, using the pseudonym Stella Haven. Oh, and that when he broke up with me once (we had a few breakups), he oddly gave me the Beatles' White Album on CD. Which I sold at a garage sale. Sorry, Tony).
Anyway, Tony was not there (he was on vacation, I later found out, AND the young chick has broken up with him again), Jim and I had some wine, ambled over to an Italian bistro with outdoor seating, talked, laughed and ended the evening with a cocktail at Vesuvio.
He's a very nice man: musical (played with John Lee Hooker etc.), intelligent, kind and with a great sense of humor. Wasn't sure about the sparks situation, but thought I'd go out to dinner with him again and give it another try.
There were some troubling signs, though: He's been married twice, is in a codependents' help group ("Oh, that's the one without sponsors, right? Because they just become enablers?" I asked.), Weight Watchers and -- I'm pretty sure he said -- AA (hello, wine?). He thought I was funny and, to all appearances, was quite taken with me and phoned me and e-mailed me several times since.
When he called the other night to ask me out for Saturday, I said sure. Then today, I get this e-mail. I'm not upset about it -- I think it's pretty funny, which is why I thought I'd share. I can't help but feel I sorta deserved a phone call, though, don't you? (It reminds me of when Burger broke up with Carrie from Sex and the City on a Post-It.) The re: line was "Saturday, etc."
My ex-girlfriend came over after weeks of not speaking to me, and informed me she no longer wishes to be my ex-girlfriend. After a long, furious talk, we decided to give it another try. So Saturday is probably not a good idea; I'm no good at being a scoundrel, though if I were going to be a scoundrel, I would certainly be one with you.
Be well in all things.