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I find the whole prospect of going out to bars to meet people almost entirely unappealing.

Bars are intended to be places where you can get together with people you’ve known for a while, to have fun, and generally cut loose, and then ride away from via taxi.

So, I placed a personal.
So, I made a personal web page.
So, I took a few digital photos of myself.
So, I participated in chat rooms.

Generally, I met some nice people that I probably wouldn’t call again. I mean, there was nothing wrong with them per se, just no spark. Of course, the really painful part is being on the flip side of that, and feeling a spark, but not seeing it in the other person. And well, I’ve been there, After about a year of self-torture, I got a simple almost koan-like response to my profile:

I sure would like to go with you to the poetry festival.
You have pretty eyes and a beautiful smile.

Well, I melted. Wouldn’t you?

A few days later we met at a café, which led to dinner. We walked around downtown Seattle for a while-- strolling through the concrete park that sits over Interstate 5, stopped at Dragonfish for drinks.

We never made it to the poetry festival. It just didn’t draw us in. We were having too good a time on our own. And in parting, a great kiss. All in all a perfect date.

That night, and the ones that follow, make the whole year before seem worthwhile.

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