And then it clicks. You meet someone who you’re instantly attracted to. You act like yourself around them, right from the beginning. You can tick off a whole list of reasons why you like them – some of them make sense and some of them have nothing to do with anything.
He calls. You talk for over an hour (and agree that’s waaay too long). About personal things, about random things. He doesn’t have the sense of humor you normally go for but he seems genuine. A guy that is close with friends and family. A guy with interests and a life of his own. A grown up.
He suggests you meet in person. You go out. He’s not as cute as his online profile, but you withhold judgment for the time being. You are able to chat through lunch, with no weird pauses. And then he kisses you in front of your building, during the day, after your first date.
You find the move bold, but impressive, despite the unwritten no-kissing-anywhere-near-the-workplace-when-coworkers-could-be-around rule. You decide you will definitely go out with him again.
I’m talking, dear readers, about The Bowler. Not some Lebowski quoting fan, no, this guy’s a card carrying, tournament playing, little kid coaching, glove wearing bowler. He hasn’t even seen the flick. But knowing how much I like themes, perhaps the Universe is sending me a little sign of approval?