The other night when a number I didn’t recognize flashed on my phone, I decided to answer the call and was greeted with a cheerful, “Hey there, it’s Andrew.”
“Andrew?” I replied, clearly confused about who was on the other end of the line. “I’m sorry. Andrew who?”
“From the bar on Saturday night. You gave me your number,” he said, sounding slightly defeated by my forgetfulness.
And then it hit me. I knew exactly who he was. He was my OKCupid run-in.
Over the weekend, I was out at my favorite local pub with a group of friends, when a decently attractive guy in a blue “Drink For A Cause: Autism Awareness Bar Crawl” T-shirt came up to me and introduced himself as Andrew.
“I don’t mean to be upfront, but you’re on OKCupid, aren’t you?” he asked after I told him my name. A bit taken aback, I wasn’t sure if I should be creeped out by the recognition or glad that I actually look like the photos in my profile. When I confirmed that yes, I’m on OKCupid, he replied with, “It’s nice to finally meet you in person. I messaged you once, but you didn’t respond, so I saw you from across the room and figured I’d introduce myself. I hope that isn’t weird.”
Normally, I think the forwardness would have been a turn-off, but there was something genuine about him that just seemed … nice. He smiled and stuck out his hand to shake mine. He was cute, personable and was drinking for a charity, which is pretty much my favorite activity ever, but I knew immediately why I must have ignored him online. Andrew was my height exactly. At 5′ 7″, I’ve always felt most comfortable dating men who are at least a few inches taller than me, with the exception of Don, who’s 5′ 10″ and Officer Handsoming, who’s 5′ 9″. But while I was dating both of those guys, I remember feeling awkward and uncomfortable when I wore shoes with a heel, which for me is often. No matter how hard I tried to ignore the fact that I appeared taller than them, those couple of inches always bothered me. So now when someone under 5’9″ approaches me online, I almost always leave them hanging. No, it doesn’t mean they’re not great guys. No, it doesn’t mean I’m superficial. It’s just something that makes me feel self-conscious. And I think that’s okay.
Anyway, at this point in the night I had already reached my drink limit and was starting to feel reallllly good. Andrew and I chatted for a while about his bar crawl, danced to The Backstreet Boys “Everybody” (which I requested the DJ play, obviously) and before Andrew left the bar, I gave him my number. Things were fuzzy, but I remembered thinking, Why the hell not?
It wasn’t until he called that I remembered our interaction, but I didn’t mind that he gave me a ring. In fact, I thought it was ballsy and I was actually impressed that he didn’t just send me a text like most men do these days. As we spoke, I had small flashbacks to our conversation at the bar and little details about him started to come back to me: He’s currently employed by a construction company, but is pursuing an acting career on the side. He still lives at home with his parents to save money and has one sister. He loves scary movies, but has seen “Frozen” with his mom nearly a dozen times, which I think is kind of hilarious. We talked about ghost encounters (he swears there’s a photo in his room thats possessed), my lack of sobriety the previous weekend and just life in general.
Our conversation flowed effortlessly, and before I knew it, 45 minutes flew by. I was exhausted.
“I should probably get going. It’s almost past my bedtime,” I said.
“Whoa! I’m so sorry I kept you so long. I didn’t even realize how late it got. But the reason I called was because I wanted to see if you’d like to get together to hang out this week. I’d love to grab dinner or coffee or something if you’re up for it.”
I thought about his height, and how I’d likely never be comfortable with him on an intimate level, but decided in that moment that I didn’t care.
“That sounds great. I’ll know my schedule better in a few days, so give me a call then and we’ll figure something out,” I said. We got off the phone and I smiled.
In my newfound pursuit of being a happy single woman, I decided that I need to put all of my expectations and must-haves aside for a while to focus on the now. I want to laugh and smile and meet new people, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do. Andrew might not be my “perfect guy,” but maybe he’s a nice little reminder that good guys exist and that I don’t need to be on the hunt for Mr. Right all the time. There’s always a possibility that we’ll go to dinner and have a miserable time, but there’s also a possibility that we won’t. Maybe we’ll become friends. Maybe we’ll become more than friends (even though I’m not looking for it). And at the very least, even if I don’t find myself attracted to him, there’s something to be said about being asked out by a cute guy who thinks I’m worth knowing. And I get to wear flats. Score!