I went on an impromptu date last night. I corresponded with this woman on a dating site. The chemistry wasn't perfect. She doesn't like horror stories, never read science fiction and seldom read fantasy, and didn't read books that often. So, the possibilities were limited and I told her that after the fourth email.
I get an email at ten giving me her number, saying she's in my neighborhood when she lives twenty miles away. So, of course, I decide to go out and meet her at one of the bars. We had a drink. It didn't come to anything. There was nothing wrong with her, it just wasn't a match, and wasn't a one-night stand. I know, I'm a guy, a stripped down, lean, mean libido. I'm atrocious, but something in me drives me to think it was a success only if it's one or the other. When I heard she had come to my neighborhood, I thought it was going to be the latter. I had my hopes up. I believed there was no way she would come out at ten at night unless she wanted sex.
Or, of course, the other possibility was that she did and I just didn't charm or impress her, but that goes back to the first problem: the chemistry was flawed.
But, on the bright side, it felt good to get out, even in the cold, night air.
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