Diary of a Network Geek

Surprise!
I’m sure many of you are fully expecting me to say that my alleged date on Saturday was, in fact, a very elaborate April Fool’s Day joke. It was not. It was, in fact, not only quite real, but quite good.
Saturday afternoon, I got a haircut and the $100 detailing done on the car, which took longer than I’d thought it would, so I just barely had time to scoot home, wash up and change before going to church. I opted for a high level of casual in relaxed-fit Gap khakis with a white DKNY, long-sleeved shirt, lightly starched. After some debate and a check with Matt for spiritual guidance on my choice of shoes, I opted for black cowboy boots instead of the Cole Haans. My date is an inch, or so, taller than I am, so I figured the extra height couldn’t hurt. I cleansed my car of all heavy metal and replaced it with Sting, Bonnie Rait and some other mellow favorites. No Sade or Nina Simone, though, per the helpful suggestions or my gentle readers.
So, at church everyone was asking about my plans. In fact, I had a veritable legion of folks who seemed to know what I was up to that night. Matt checked me over to make sure I’d done okay, as did J.’s new girl L. The general consensus of opinion was a thumbs-up. I have no idea what went on during the service because, honestly, I was beside myself with nerves. First date in over ten years makes a guy a little nervous, you know?
So, with Sting’s Brand New Day in the CD player, I raced over to her place as soon as church was over. She lives over by Minute Maid Park, so there was a bit of traffic, due to the Astro’s exhibition game, but it wasn’t too bad. What was bad, however, were the directions that I got via Yahoo!Maps. They were fine right up to that one, illegal, left-turn onto Franklin. Thankfully, I’ve driven all over Chicago during construction season, so circling wide and around to get where I actually wanted to be was not a big stretch for me. Also, I called her to get pointed back in the right direction. I parked in a loading dock at her building, per her instructions, and met her out front as she was walking her dogs. The first thing that caught my attention was how blonde she was. I spotted that two blocks away. The other thing was how tall five-foot eleven was when you got up close. Yeah, she’s an inch taller than I am,when I stand up straight. Still, she was at least as good looking in person as she was in her pictures, so, all was well. (She said more or less the same about me, later, so, don’t think I was the only one worried about that!)
We took her dogs up to her apartment and I got the nickel tour. She runs her business out of her home, so she had an industrial oven, a bunch of baking racks, and assorted high-end cooking gear all over. Naturally, she had an enormous kitchen. She actually lives in a loft in a building that, except for the nice, wide halls, reminded me of places I’d been in Chicago. In fact, that was one of the reasons she like this building, because she used to live in Chicago and it sort of reminded her of there. So, yes, she lived in Chicago for nine years, working in catering, mainly, and she knew the edges of my old stomping grounds. In fact, she said that would be the only part of the country that she’d consider moving to again. Oh, did I mention that she took me by surprise with a kiss when I met her?
Anyway, after that it was off to La Vista, a little Italian place that she knew. It’s quaint and used to have a strictly BYOB policy, and they maintain that even though you can get wine there now. Apparently, it was run by a friend of hers from high school and was more wildly successful than he’d ever imagined it being. Who knew? But, here is where it got interesting. At this restaurant I noticed the difference between this one and everyone I’ve ever gone out with before. We ordered our dinners and I ordered a glass of iced tea. Well, our salads came, but my tea didn’t. I was willing to quietly ignore that, as long as it didn’t end up on the bill, but she caught our waiter and told him to get it for me. Honest to God, no one has ever been that attentive to me before, ever, much less on a first date. I thanked her, of course, then told her that I’d been willing to let it slide. And how thoughtful it was of her to catch that for me. Dinner was, of course, wonderful. Sadly, if we’d had dessert we’d be too late to catch a movie, so we skipped that and were off to the giant Edwards MarqE to catch a late show.
We got tickets to the 10:30PM showing of Ice Age: Meltdown, but we were cutting it close. The lines were too long at the candy stand, so, while she ran into the ladies room, I hit the quarter vending machines to feed her self-confessed sweet tooth. Generic Sweet Tarts and plain M&Ms for a buck’s not a bad deal at the theater, so I carefully filled my hand and waited for her by the door to the ladies room, feeling rather like a pervert. She came out and saw what I had in my hand and started giggling like a little girl. She grabbed my free hand and gobbled a couple of the candies while dragging me into the theater. She hesitantly lets me choose where to sit in the darkened movie house and I quickly point to two seats in the middle of the row in front of the main aisle. When she sighed with relief and called me a man after her own heart, I knew I’d done good. She hates climbing up to the higher reaches of seats as much as I do. Cool. I automatically lifted the middle arm between the two seats, because, well, just because. That, too, met with her instant approval. We dropped into our seats just as the last preview was ending and the main feature was starting. Perfect timing!
I won’t review the movie, but Ice Age Meltdown was hilarious. We laughed the whole way through. Great first date movie.
After that, it was back to her place for some mellow music, more talking and, well, stuff. It was at this point in the evening that I found out she was a published poet and a very accomplished photographer. Her black and white photos of Paris looked like they could have been hung in a gallery. I also got to know her geriatric basset hound and her two miniature Dachshunds. When I finally left, she sent me out into the world laden with her gourmet dog biscuits as a peace offering to my own dog. Also, she figured a bribe might get me back into the house.

She’s braving my house for pizza and a movie Tuesday night before heading out of town for a trade show. Next week, the Saturday before Easter, she’s going to come to Mercy Street with me. Apparently, she wants to meet the man who gave me spiritual advice about my shoes.
In short, I think I’ve got a winner. Now, if I can just get used to being fawned over for a change, and learn to take her compliments without a skeptical side-long glance, everything will work out just fine.

When I get a little money I buy books; and if any is left, I buy food and clothes.
– Desiderius Erasmus

So, I tried the Bookstore Method again last night, against the recommendation of at least one of my readers. Honestly, it’s not working well for me, in spite of what my therapist tells me about how well it works for his other client, who, in fact, originated the process. I’m not sure if it’s that I’m too picky, or just too cowardly, but the pickings always seem slim. Here’s how it went…

I glide into the store as casually as a desperately lonely man can, trying to look as completely uninterested in anything in particular. I glance at the sale books in the entrance way and pick up a departure for me, Dirty Little Secrets, which looks like a freakish combination of a chick book with an action thriller. Way, way outside my normal reading and perfect to get me into the nonconventional mindset I’ll need to survive the night. Then, I browse through the first tables of new books and see The Ethical Assassin : A Novel, which established a grim, little theme for my chances. So, now I have two books about murder and mayhem in unusual settings, right? Must be time for the magazine section! Yea!
And, as I prowled over to the glossy rags, I remembered I was there to find a date, not spend money I don’t have on books I won’t read for months. So, as I pickup the latest Writer’s Digest, I start watching for likely ladies out of the corner of my eye. (See, I’m being all sly-like, so I can sneak up on them and pounce when even I don’t suspect it!) Sadly, there were only men around the row I was in, so I loop around and see Plaza Magazine, which caught me with the headline “Japan Issue: Capsule Living With Kurokawa”. I mean, with my total fascination regarding all things Japanese, how could I resist? But, still, no groovy chicks, so it was on the next row for Blender, because I need to update my musical taste if I’m going to date. After all, I’m told the hottest of the hotties are into music. Personally, I wouldn’t know. Thelonious Monk aside, I don’t know squat about music or what’s musically cool right now, so, for all I know, I’m hip as all get out. I doubt it, but, still, you never know. I’m hoping that if I hold on long enough, I’ll swing around and be retro again. That was when I saw her, grabbing that Blender. She was dressed down in running gear, casually flipping through a magazine and leaned up against the end of the row where the movie magazines are. But, she seemed a little tense, so I watched her out of the corner of my eye while pretending to scan the movie rags. Forgetting my purpose for a moment, I spotted one of my obscure favorites, Asian Cult Cinema. The current issue was Thai Cinema, so I leaned over to get it, startling the poor, nervous cutie reading her magazine. Then, I saw why she seemed tense. She was looking at the latest Sports Illustrated. You know, the Swimsuit Edition? Yeah, so, either she’s really cool and just checking it out for, uh, actually, I have no idea why she’d be cool and checking it out. She’s a chick. If I understood chicks, I wouldn’t be blogging this, I’d be cooking her breakfast. My bet was she was a lesbian. Why? Because, that’d be just my luck. Anyone want to take that bet? Yeah, me neither.
So, then it was a quick tour through philosophy, where I saw On Bullshit by Harry G. Frankfurt. It’s a short one, so I picked it up to read while I had my beverage of the evening. After that, I popped upstairs to the language section. I wanted to grab a Vietnamese Dictionary & Phrasebook because I’d “Wink”ed at a Vietnamese girl on Match.com and I thought learning a few words of her language would be cool. Especially because I love language and she could totally correct my mispronunciation of the complicated, tonal language. (Sadly, she opted out on me, but, at least I have the book.) So, then it was over to the writing section to see what they had to help me with my pitiful plots. I found The 3 A.M. Epiphany: Uncommon Writing Exercises That Transform Your Fiction, which appealed to me because that was about when I got the idea for the best story I almost sold o many years ago. And, just because it was funny, Plots Unlimited caught my attention. Of course, it’s a total gimmick book, but I bought it anyway, again, because it was funny. And, as long as I was indulging in a little retail therapy at this point, I decided to check out some music by way of the martial arts section. I love martial arts philosophy because it’s so practical, so when I saw Be Like Water: Practical Wisdom from the Martial Arts, I knew I had one of my minimum four spirituality books for the year. And, about that time, I noticed The Best of Dave Lowry, who is one of the world’s best writers on the Japanese martial arts. This book collects the best of his Black Belt magazine articles in one place. Very cool. So, then it was music, I was in a funky mood, so I went looking for something with an edge. What I found was Past, Present & Future [with Bonus DVD] by Rob Zombie. Hey, I don’t have a kid who’s too into Goth music in my house right now, so, I can indulge in some heavy metal. What do you want from me? It’s actually great music to do aerobic workouts to. Honest. Besides, while finding Zombie, Gimme Fiction by Spoon caught my eye. I know nothing about it, but I have a vague memory that someone, somewhere thought it was good, so I figured I’d take the risk.
So, now, totally weighed down with books and magazines, I head over to Smarmy Lad in the Hell of Mediocre Coffee. He, of course, goads me with his hypercaffinated, but artificial, cheeriness, trying to rush me so he can do two orders at once. But, as I mentioned, I’m in a mood, so I give him a hearty “Yeah, I’ll get back to you in a second on that”, which, I’m pleased to say, threw him off his game. Ha! Take that slacker boy! And, I got to stand there with a giant pile of heavy books showing off my muscle while pretending that holding forty pounds of books in one outstretched hand is no big deal. And, finally, just before my arm completely failed, he came back and took my order. Instead of my usual Italian Fascist Blend, I had a kinder, gentler iced mocha chai. While I was paying, I had to endure his lengthy sales pitch for Border’s new marketing, er, “discount” program.
“I’m not sure if you’re going to get all those books tonight, but you’ll get a…”
“Yeah, okay, fine. I’ll take it.”
“Great! You know you’ll really save! And, you’ll start getting the better coupons!”
“Uh-huh.”
“Why, you’ll even get coupons for the Cafe here!”
“Yeah. Great.” So, pretty much at this point the easy sell has really upset his little apple cart and he has no idea that he can stop babbling. I decide to stop listening instead. Easier and less likely to make me want to lobotomize myself with a knitting needle. But, I survive the process and sip my frozen mocha chai while I read On Bullshit, both of which were surprisingly good. And, then, it’s getting late and I’ve pretty well given up on actually meeting someone, so, I head down to the cashier with my books. When I check out, I get the book that actually brought me out to the bookstore, No Plot? No Problem! and beat a hasty retreat home, while listening to Rob Zombie.
And, what did I learn last night? Well, I learned that, while this might be a proven method for one guy, it’s not working for me very well. I learned that following through even when I’m not in a good mood does not produce the best results. But, most importantly, I learned something about myself. Something best summarized by a quote from On Bullshit:
“Our natures are, indeed, elusively insubstantial – notoriously less stable and less inherent than the natures of other things. And insofar as this is the case, sincerity itself is bullshit.”
And, that, kids, just about sums up my day yesterday. Today has got to be better. Right?