I went out Friday night with a coworker and his girlfriend, third-wheeling through dinner, drinks, and a show. A recently divorced female friend of theirs was supposed to meet us after dinner with the obvious implied fix-up for yours truly. She wound up at the club next door and when it came down to it, we got a just-barely introduction after our show was over, and that was that for the night.
Previously, on the way to the venue from the restaurant, we were walking down H__ Street, which has become the epicenter of the downtown social scene. A woman standing in front of T__, a coffee shop I’ve been frequenting during the day, said Hi-we-met-at-M__’s-party-with-the-fire-jugglers-and-talked-about-music. My night was already made before I could even remember what she was talking about (two 10% alcohol beers with dinner). This doesn’t happen to me very often, but when it does, I try to remind myself how I feel when I say hello to a pretty someone I’ve met and it takes them a beat or three to remember me. We’d met about a week ago where she was DJing at M__’s studio party. They had a video setup running and we talked about VJing, something I know very little about, but has tickled the intersection of my professional and artistic interests.
S__ asked if I had a card which, Murphy had insured that I did not. She gave me hers and pointed out that she was a real-estate broker if, you know, I needed to buy a house. I tried not to take this as a bad sign, but frankly it didn’t work. She seemed cool and excited by life — definitely the kind of person I prefer to surround myself with, romance or not. C__’s girlfriend insisted that this woman was all about me, based on woman’s intuition and a read of body language. I wasn’t as sure but had no desire to jinx it by offering up any sort of argument. My ego sufficiently fluffed, we proceeded on our way.
This morning I slept in and, after making a killer anti-hangover smoothie, decided to drop S__ a quick e-mail coffee invite, based mostly on G__’s opinion that the appropriate time to call was right now. I got a blackberried reply immediately — she’d “love to collaborate on some projects.” Unless that’s a euphemism I’m not familiar with (it’d be a great one, wouldn’t it?), it sounds like her interest is purely professional. In any case, she’s working today — seven days a week actually.
I’d be perfectly content to simply make a new friend [ed note: liar, liar, pants on fire]; interesting people always seem too busy, boring people always seem too free.