My first winter in the big, new, exotic city was cold in every way. The weather was horrible and completely unlike anything I'd ever been exposed to. My job had gone from bad to borderline unbearable. My coworkers were cold, unwelcoming and extremely competitive. And to the rest of the city, I was a complete stranger.
When you're surrounded by millions of people who are pretty much just like you, it's refreshing for someone to look at you as an individual, even if just for a split second. So, by February I had grown to cherish brief moments of eye contact in the subway. In retrospect, I was depressed, but at the time, everything seemed insurmountable and I couldn't quite place why.
And in a sense, it was. After a Christmas party gone bad, I wrote off all my coworkers as competitive assholes, so I had become the most competitive writer at our arty little magazine. Competitiveness had proven quite good for my young career and I scored some stories that not only got great traffic on the web, but actually made it into print. But, it hadn't endeared me to any of my coworkers. And, I had resigned myself to not being able to meet friends in such a large city and it was incredibly cold, so I stopped going out and spent my time in my dingy basement suite binge watching entire television series.
It wasn't at all how I had imagined living in a big fabulous city. Not only was the city more tarnished than I had imagined, but I was the opposite of fabulous.
Other than a guy from California who I had unsatisfying sex with when he was in town, I was completely single. Guys would flirt with me when I was out, but I wasn't out often, so it was a perpetual cycle of loneliness, self doubt and, to be blunt, horniness.
One Friday night, the weather decided to simultaneously pelt the city with wind, rain and sleet. The wind was heavy enough that the rain and sleet seemed to be coming sideways. In short, the night was miserable and so I picked up two bottles of wine at a store near my place and went home to cook food and escape the cold.
I drank a little faster than I should have while I cooked and so I had a difficult meal full of wondering why I had taken this stupid job in this stupid city. Journalism had proven to be a bit of a dud careerwise. I didn't expect to uncover a story that would make a President resign straight out of college, but some of my recent work included heavy hitters like "Top 6 Unexpectedly Romantic Valentines Dates" and "8 Etiquette Tips from the Pros."
After I ate, still feeling bitter, I tried to sit down to some television, but nothing was interesting. I was 23 and even though I hadn't been acting it, I was fabulous. Maybe it was the booze, but had the weather not been horrible, I likely would have gone to a club to dance. It was likely the booze, but all of a sudden, I felt like getting out of my coccoon. So, I grabbed my laptop and set up another online dating profile.
My last online dating experience turned into hot sex with a pathological liar, so I wasn't expecting much when I set up my account, uploaded pictures, and filled up my profile. And, at first I didn't get much, but I stayed on the site, and sipped wine. About an hour and a half after I set up my account, I got a chat request from a guy whose profile I had liked. He was in his early 50s, which just a few months before would have seemed insurmountably old and also new to the city. I accepted the request and we started chatting.
That was the start of an epic chat experience that lasted nearly nine hours until 7am Saturday morning when he suggested that we 'brave all the snow and meet somewhere for breakfast'. I was deliriously tired but quickly agreed. We agreed to meet at a neat little diner a short bus ride from my place, and then logged off to go shower.
By the time I got into the shower, I was regretting my decision to meet him. I hadn't slept in over 24 hours and was intensely tired. But, I liked him a tremendous amount already. He was a professor at one of the city's better universities and his mind was as expansive as anyone's I had ever met. Well travelled, extremely confident, and intensely interesting to talk with, he was so much fun to chat with and I knew we would have an incredible amount of fun together at breakfast.
My walk to my bus stop reaffirmed my love for the city. The storm had blown away while I'd been chatting with Andrew and while the air was brisk and cold, the sky was clear and sunny. The whole city was covered in a blanket of white snow and it was quiet and peaceful. Like the city was snug in bed, tucked in a blanket of snow.
The bus showed up and I was happy to step inside. I had foolishly decided to wear a dress and leggings, and my legs were cold in the early morning February air. The bus ride was short, yet seemed long as I played out everything that could possibly go wrong during breakfast.
When I arrived at the diner, I looked around and was disappointed that he wasn't there. My first thought was that he had stood me up, but before I'd finished that thought, he was beside me with a hurried apology for being late. I was pleased to see that his pictures were real and that he was as tall and broad shouldered as he had said. He was hot.
He was hot and the breakfast was incredible. He was intensely funny in person, but it never felt like he was putting on a show for me. Rather, he seemed intensely interested in hearing about my life, my writing and my ideas. I liked him a lot and so, after torturing the poor waitress over several hours of coffee refills, I invited him to come and see my place and watch a movie on my laptop.
