Usually, I'm one of those people who believes, maybe not in love at first sight, but at least in chemistry at first sight. I mean there's an idea that I know even a lot of women agree with, that you have a pretty good idea within the first couple of minutes of meeting somebody whether you're going to want to go to bed with them -- possibly not that night, but generally. I mean chemistry is just there. You're attracted to them, and they seem to be attracted to you. You could get to know a lot more about somebody, about where they were from, about what they were studying, about what they liked, by spending time with them, but the chemistry was there all along.
But sometimes, just sometimes, conventional wisdom is wrong.
I met Elaine at a party at a friend's house. It was a pretty big party and I had been talking to lots of people. I decided I needed another beer, so I headed to the kitchen to check what was in the fridge.
On the other side of the kitchen, across the center island, I noticed a girl standing alone, with a bottle of water in her hand, not looking happy at all about being there. I liked a lot of what I saw -- she had a good figure, medium height, and I kind of sensed she had the potential to be a knockout. But she wasn't. She had dark brown hair which was perfectly clean and all, but it just hung down without a hint of style. Not making any effort at all. She had big hazel eyes, but she was doing nothing to accentuate them. No eyeliner, no eyeshadow, and to complete the picture, no lipstick. And her dress looked as if it was something she would have picked out to go to a tiny rural church on Sunday. It was as if she wanted to fade into the wall.
The beer I was getting out of the fridge was my third, so I was feeling pretty sociable, and I decided to go over and see if I could talk to her, maybe figure out what was up. She looked almost startled when she saw me approaching, and seemed to be looking for an escape route, but she was already in a corner. Nevertheless, I pressed on and said "Hi, my name is Aldous. But nobody calls me that. People just call me Al."
She told me her name was Elaine -- "Everyone called me Ellie when I was growing up and all the way through college, but when I got a teaching job, I decided I needed a grown-up name" -- and as we talked, she seemed to begin to relax a bit. She was obviously shy by nature, and the only person she knew at the party was the girlfriend of the host, and she had been trying to figure out an acceptable excuse for leaving early.
Still, I wasn't being pushy, just kind of friendly and ready to talk to pretty much anyone.
Somehow, the two of us kept on talking. I had finished a Master's degree last year and was now an assistant grunt in the actuarial department of a big insurance company. Basically, my job was trying to figure out how soon people would die, how big the hurricane season would be, how many tornadoes would devastate swaths of the middle of the country, and how much damage rising sea levels would cause in coastal areas. Also, of course, the potential for all kinds of disasters at rock concerts, at major football games, and other public events. My company absolutely refused to touch NASCAR, or soccer matches involving international competitions and international fans. Way too crazy even for us. But all in all, it was pretty interesting work.
Anyway, that gave me a lot to talk about, and I could see she was becoming interested, and then pretty fascinated. Elaine was an art teacher at a middle school. She loved art and loved doing her own painting, but she had only had a few pieces included at some very local shows, so she was satisfied to teach art to middle school students. She enjoyed working with the students, and loved trying to pass her enthusiasm for art along to a new generation.
Even though much of my college and graduate work had been focused on math, statistics, physics, and the like, I had taken a couple of courses in art history in college and enjoyed them and so I was happy to talk with her about art.
Despite our easy conversation, the evening did not progress to heavy making out or anything of the sort. It was odd. Normally if I met a girl at a party and we hit it off, we would at least be making out by the end of the evening, if not heading home together. Still, there was something about Elaine that I liked. When we were talking, she would become really enthusiastic, either with questions about my work, or talking about art. When she wasn't trying to hide away, she would become almost bubbly. And she had been more interested in me and my work than anyone I had met in a long time.
We talked for a long time. When I was ready to head to the fridge for another beer, I asked her if she wanted anything. I kind of expected she would just want another bottle of water, but she seemed to think about it and then said, "Maybe if they have one of those seltzer drinks?"
I knew the kind of thing she was talking about, vodka or tequila or whatever, mixed with seltzer and maybe some kind of lime flavoring or something. Sure enough, they had some cans of seltzer margaritas and I brought her one. I asked if she wanted me to get her glass, but she said, "No, I'm fine." She popped open the tab and drank it straight from the can as we continued our conversation.
Eventually, it started getting late and people were starting to leave. I was still enjoying talking to her, but the weird thing was, mostly when I talked to girls at parties, it was all part of hitting on them. It was almost some kind of rule. Here, even though I was really enjoying talking with her, I didn't feel any sexual tension whatsoever. Especially with the way she had totally avoided dressing for a party. Definitely not a turn-on -- actually pretty much an anti-turn-on. Not feeling any chemistry on my part, and I wasn't getting any signals from her either.
Oh well, just one of those evenings. Better than nothing, in fact, I suppose, definitely more interesting than nothing, but I didn't see it leading anywhere.
We both decided it was time to leave and I offered to walk her to her car. When we got to her car, normally, if I hadn't been making out with her already, I would certainly have been looking for some sort of a good night kiss or something. But that just felt wrong. Maybe a hug? No. I probably wouldn't have been all that surprised if she had just stuck out her hand to shake hands and say, "It was nice meeting you." But she didn't. Of course, if she had, that would've been a one-way ticket to the permanent friend zone.
It was definitely feeling awkward. I was ready to just say good night and walk back to my car, when she said, "Would you like my phone number?"
What? That was totally unexpected. I wasn't entirely sure what to say. Did I really want her number? Of course, saying "no" would be pretty rude, and I never wanted to be rude. Besides, we had had a really nice time talking. So I said, "Sure."
She asked me for my phone, and typed her name and number into my contacts list. "I had a lot of fun talking to you tonight," she said. "I was pretty much dreading the evening, but sometimes nice surprises happen."
Wow. That whole thing came totally out of the blue, at least for me. She hadn't asked me for my number. I wasn't sure if she thought that would be too much. Actually, if I had given her my phone number, it would've made me wary about her "stalking" me one way or another. Maybe a bunch of text messages or something?
When I got home, I didn't spend a lot of time thinking about her, but at the same time I felt sort of glad I had her phone number. Did that mean I wanted to call her? Or see her again? I certainly wasn't going to get back to her in a hurry. But she had been more interesting to talk to than any of the other girls I had met in a very long time.
