One Night

We'd been talking for the better part of a few months, and she was nice. She lived about forty-five minutes away, and had a wonderful, light lilting sort of voice that puts one in mind of sunny dispositions and people who Go Out And Do Things In A Responsible Fashion, of which I have always been envious. But I had a great many misgivings about meeting the girl, because nothing, in principle, is quite so lame as meeting someone you met on the Internet for the purpose of dating. she was insistent, though, and finally I said sure, why not, and there it was. We would meet that Tuesday, though I had been feeling under the weather lately and I had to work early the next day. But what the hell.

Her name was Jenn, and she was lovely. Not only lovely, but witty as well, and she made me laugh, which was rare, and still. What I didn't know was that I was not only under the weather but also had a very nasty case of bronchitis that would eventually land me in the emergency room, but tonight was only a frequent cough. We met, we chitchatted, and I had fun - something I hadn't allowed myself to do in too long.

I probably don't need to tell you that it is fantastically difficult to impress a woman when you are coughing your face off, although I certainly tried. We wound up on Thayer Street (this was in Providence, Rhode Island) just sort of milling about and talking. We wound up in a record store, where my attempts to show off my encyclopedic knowledge of modern rock were handily derailed by my fitful hacking. She was amused at least, and hopefully found me charming, but I did not know. Still don't, really.

We had dinner. Falafel to be exact, and it was kind of gross, but I did not notice, because she was charming me senseless, and I was happier than I'd been in an excessively long time. We went back to her place and talked longer, one of those talks where everything's shared, when you're spilling your intestines to a total stranger and they're responding in kind. She told me of the horrific family life she had, and started crying. Male sensibilities kicked in, and I hugged her. It sound stupid now. It didn't then.

I spent the night, but we didn't even kiss. Honestly I'd had far too many crappy relationships and many of them had moved too fast in the beginning, and I didn't want that now. I wasn't going to think too hard, I wasn't going to worry, I would just let things be and hope for the best. I slept with my arm around her. Woke up early the next day to go to work, and said goodbye. I was joyful for a week. Called her and everything.

I never saw her again.

This happened for a few reasons. For one, my number changed, and she moved without being able to tell me, losing her Internet access in the process. Then we got back in touch, but fell out of touch again, and then I moved once more and lost her number. I like to think that sometimes she wonders where I am and how I'm doing. I know I do. It would be pointless to track her down, and I don't want to feel like a stalker. If she's not being found, the chances are she probably doesn't want to be found, and that's cool. I don't profess to know all her motivations, and at any rate I am happily taken these days.

But yes, I do think about it sometimes, and about the fact that, if I'd known I would only have one night, I would probably have done everything exactly the same. It was only one night with a girl, and pretty much nothing happened. I think, for some reason I really don't understand, that I'm satisfied with that.