He was 33, was a nonsmoker, and said explicitly that he wanted kids. We finally wrapped up our discussion, but without enough time to head home first, I went straight to Longshots and decided to wait at the bar for him.He was also a journalist covering the city hall beat for one of the local newspapers. I ordered a club soda with a twist of lime, which looked like my usual first-date drink but contained none of the potentially dangerous alcohol.I was intrigued enough to click through and read the rest of his profile. Mench Tastic would likely order a drink once he got here, and since I actually liked him I didn’t want to get accidentally drunk at the very beginning of the date.In his About Me section, Mench Tastic wrote, “I’m a journalist, which sometimes means long hours at work but always means I have fantastic stories to tell.” Looking at his profile, I thought that I might know his byline. I rifled through the piles of paper on my own desk looking for my mobile phone. Since it could happen so quickly, I usually didn’t realize I was drunk until something bad had already happened.He’d been using a digital camera to take photos but thought the scanner was a much smarter idea.As we talked, I noticed our voices overlapping and moving in cadence together. For that, I’d recommend double espresso, without any sugar if you’re able.It was now July, a few weeks since my date with Jim, the weed smoker who refused to split our dinner bill.I knew matching algorithms weren’t perfect, but I kept dating and decided not to cancel my memberships with e Harmony, Match.com, and JDate.
On his desk were a coffee mug and a pile of reporter’s notebooks along with two giant computer monitors. For the past few months, I’d been having drinks at Longshots with different men at least twice a week.But for me, whose vampire-esque teeth meant the only option was 18 months of metalwork, the single life ahead seemed pretty grim – especially considering that I didn’t intend on taking a vow of celibacy in the meantime.Having now spent almost a year with my own less glamorous version of a grill, I’ve certainly had my fair share of ups and downs in the dating game.Even so, we shared enough similarities in our personal and professional lives that it felt as if, even as strangers, we’d been a part of each other’s social circles for many years. It could take just one strong drink for accidentally drunk and unwittingly aggressive Amy to rear her ugly head, and the bartenders at Longshots were too unpredictable to entrust with this very important first meeting.I moused over his photo gallery and started clicking through. Drink in hand, I commandeered my usual position at Longshots: the overstuffed leather sofa in the back corner.