You have got to buck up, man. You cannot drag this negative energy in to the tournament!

This post is part of The Big Ledateski series. I recommend starting at the beginning.

While debating what to do about Duder I review a few more pieces of information at my disposal, mainly an assessment I received from my friend via her law school buddy who had met him at her co-worker’s birthday party that same weekend, and the original email I had received from him via the CraigsList post. Neither is particularly convincing given my current mental state. He has pros – he loves NCAA basketball – and cons – he lives/works in the suburbs. Basically he seems normal.

But the Universe keeps nagging at me, so we all know where this is going. Against my better judgment I send him an email. We cover my reservations – that on the one hand someone who reads my blog has insights into me that they haven’t earned and on the other that some portion of those insights are bound to be totally off-base. He’s a blogger himself, so he seems to understand the concept.

I suggest we meet in person, not a date, mind you, just NCAA tournament basketball as the backdrop to seeing whether there is any real life connection to substantiate the bizarre series of circumstance. He agrees, stating that he finds my ability to schedule this most basic of meetings “refreshing”. I find this a ridiculously depressing commentary on the current state of society.

Fuck the tournament. I must have left too much time between the planning and the actual event, because the closer I get to meeting Duder in person the less I want to go. Everyone around me thinks this will be that “one last first date” but I know it won’t be. I also know thinking like that will only make it more depressing when it turns out to just another mediocre first meeting that goes nowhere.

I dig deep and go through with it, though, vowing to give it an honest to goodness shot. I do a great job of truly being myself and I end up having a perfectly decent time. Duder comes off a little stiff - not sure if it’s nerves or if he just doesn’t get my humor, but he seems decidedly less fun and social than he’s been described. By far my favorite thing about him is that it turns out he knows my very good friend’s husband’s mother. He doesn’t seem to think it’s as remarkable as I do, which is unfortunate. He lets me split the bill, which I appreciate, and both my teams advance in the tournament, which is a plus.

When walking home from the bar I dial up my friend to tell her that I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me. I don’t have anything specific, just that general feeling that whatever he was hoping I’d be in person I wasn’t. I am proud of myself for marking an effort and relieved I can get back to my dating break.

I guess we can close the file on that one.