What is It About Men and Their Cats?!
It was four months after my move to Seattle. I decided to join match.com. The first guy I corresponded with seemed pretty nice, and I thought well, might as well get my feet wet (Seattle pun intended). The first time we were supposed to meet he bailed, saying he was sick. He asked to reschedule. I told him sure, but he had to bring me a present. He brought me a baseball signed by the mayor of Tacoma.
I picked the restaurant. I told him it was my favorite, but it wasn't (the only restaurant I knew was the bar closest to my graduate school). It was the favorite of 243 people on Yelp.
"Can I take you out again?" he asked when I sat down. I thought--again? We haven't even started our first date yet.
He invited me to Conan. I was tempted. He seemed like a decent enough guy. I liked Conan. Then he started to tell me about his recent divorce. Conan seemed like less of a possibility. Then he told me all about his ex-wife.
I couldn't get a word in. The divorce, it seemed, was recent. And then there was the custody battle. Over his cat. I asked him if he won. He looked like he was about to cry. He hadn't. I didn't know what to do then. I knew I had to decline the Conan ticket, but reject him after resurrecting all this? I had to be honest with him. He took it well--but I guess after a man loses his cat, a bad match date is nothing but a drop in the bucket (Seattle pun, part deux).
Three years later, where we ate is now one of my favorite restaurants. And I still have that baseball.