It's a Game Boy; It's a Game, Boy.

The Waiter and I never actually made it out on a date. He blew me off...twice. I didn't respond to give him a third chance. I was shocked that he had flaked on me. And as I thought about that more, I realized how silly that was. He was an absolute stranger. We had literally said seven sentences to each other since we met...literally. I had absolutely no idea what any of his personality flaws were and I was surprised when one of them turned out to be flakiness? Why did I think that I knew him enough to think that this was out of character for him?

The answer is simple. I blame the internet.

In the days leading up to our date, it concerned me that I didn't know anything about this guy. I didn't know if he was a good age for me. Or if his actual career was being a waiter, or if he had other things that he was working on. Or if he allegedly had ever used a machete to hack a woman up into tiny morsels and bury those morsels under his shed. I needed a balance of normalcy. I had to find out something about him before we went out...at least his last name, so that I could send an e-mail to my sisters saying, "I'm about to go out on a first date with so-and-so. If you never see me again, tell the police to start there." So, I consulted a trusty little website known as facebook.

I knew his first name and I knew the restaurant that he worked at. So, I typed in "Men named [Waiter] who work at Union Bar" and what do you know, up he popped. You know how sometimes, you'll stumble across someone's profile and the entire thing is set to public?!?!?! The choir sings Hallelujah and little pieces of confetti in the shape of computers fall from the sky.

By studying his facebook profile, I convinced myself that we were meant to be. Yes, he was only 28 years old. But, he was a musician! I play music! He "liked" the hit musical RENT! I like the hit musical RENT! We even had the SAME quote from Word Porn on our timeline. 'It's been an ugly day,'she said. 'Tell me something beautiful?' And he said her name".

[Side note: When I mentioned this to Andrea, she called shenanigans. "I refuse to believe that a 28-year old man has that on his facebook timeline."]

It was clearly fate. I was already planning what song we would sing together at our wedding reception. Obviously, it would be something from RENT.

Now, the reality is that none of this was evidence that we were compatible. This is a man that I met in one of the most hipster cities in the country. Of course he's a musician. They all are. And even though he's a musician, he plays the Game Boy. Yes, the Game Boy...

This one...

And yes, he loves Rent, but who doesn't? If you like music, you like Rent. And the Word Porn pic, I'm willing to chalk up to coincidence. Anyway, I had built him up in my head to be this person and already felt close to that person and that person wasn't even real. That's what the internet does to us.

A friend of mine was telling me about how on her first date with someone from okcupid, he wanted to be one of those couples who sits on the same side of the booth. On their first date! That's weird. The other day, I friend requested Tahmoh Pennikett on facebook. I'm friend requesting C-list celebrities on facebook. That's crazy. Would I ever go up to a C-list celebrity in real life and say, "Would you like to be my friend?" Creepy... How do we feel that close to someone who is essentially a stranger? How do we get there? The internet. It lulls us to a false sense of intimacy.

[Note: I'm deliberately not taking responsibility for being a facebook creeper, or as I like to call it Facebook Detective. You use the tools that are at your disposal. Say, someone gets in a car accident. If they didn't have a car in the first place, the accident never would have happened, right? They can't be held liable!! ....ok, they can. Bad example. Actually, there really aren't any good examples. Forget it! I'm NOT TAKING RESPONSIBLITY FOR THIS!]

Even though the Waiter ditched me twice, there is some good in all this. All of this has led me to believe that the internet is not to be used for evil. And by evil, I mean making up imaginary relationships in my head. I feel as though I've really grown in the past few minutes. And I have the Waiter to thank for it. Plus, since I thought that he had chickened out, I coined the fabulous phrase "motherclucker", which I'm now going to incorporate into my urban vernacular.

The Perceptive Waiter

Warning to my mother: Some of this is about a pregnancy scare.

For a week or so, I had been sick to my stomach in sudden waves that passed after a few minutes, faster than a Taylor Swift relationship. Any woman in her 30's who has been nauseous for a week straight...well, it's safe to say that her first thought is, "Sonofabitch, I'm pregnant." The actuality of me being pregnant is highly unlikely since I'm a big proponent of wrapping it before tapping it, even though I know that condoms aren't 100% effective, and it is on the box, Ross Geller. In complete denial, I had decided to ignore the nausea (and the fact that my period was two weeks late) and continue to drink bottles of wine, hoping that both the nausea and the lateness were being caused by stress.

At the end of this week, my friend, Sarah and I headed over to Union Bar and Grille for dinner. Right away, when the waiter came up, my first thought was, "hell to the yeah." I shamelessly flirted with him through our initial drink order and appetizers.

But, then my duck rigatoni came. It looked delicious. But, the smell...and I ran to the bathroom. After that, my mood completely changed, as I finally accepted the realization that I might be pregnant. I discussed my concern with Sarah, and while doing so, I started to cry discreetly in the restaurant. Sarah, being the good friend that she is, told me that after dinner, we would hit CVS because I needed to know for sure. And I agreed. It was hard to focus on my food after that, but I made it through dinner. I had forgotten about the waiter, but I tried to lighten the mood by making awkward jokes that Sarah laughed at because we both enjoy awkward jokes. Small sample: related to bridesmaid dress shopping that weekend, I muttered, "Should I even buy the dress now? I won't fit in it by October" and when Sarah commended me for being able to eat at least some of my dinner, my response was, "Well, I am eating for two."

When it came time for dessert, Sarah and I ordered the sorbet. The waiter looked right at me and said, "I just want to tell you that the sorbet has cream in it." I realized, with horror, that he had seen me run to the bathroom earlier and had noticed that I stayed in there for longer than number one. As he walked away, to put in our sorbet order, Sarah said to me, "That was really nice that he said that. A little weird...but more nice than weird." And I had to agree. Even with our ominous task looming ahead like the Shadow of Mordor in my own Lord of the Flings story, I thought that it couldn't hurt to flirt a little more, you know...before I started to show.

We enjoyed the sorbet, and when he brought the check, he looked right at me and said, "By the way, my name is [the Waiter]. It really was a pleasure serving you. I hope you come in again." Sarah said to me as he walked away, "you need give him your phone number. He's been flirting with you all night." My thoughts were, "He can't be interested. One, it's his job to flirt. He wants a tip. Two, he thinks that I was attacked by lactose, so he probably finds me disgusting. Three, if he had been that observant of me throughout the night, he had most likely witnessed me sobbing for ten minutes. None of this is attractive." But, Sarah said, "what do you have to lose?" ("Except never being able to show my face in Union Bar again," I thought).

Anyway, I had been trying to be more assertive when attracted to someone. And so I left my number with my name and a "you should call me."

The next day, Saturday, I received a voicemail message, "Hi Melissa, it's the Waiter. I received a note from you saying to call. So, I'm following instructions. Call me back." And we have a date this week. We're already off to a good start...according to the vm message, he's a man who does what I tell him to do. He's seen me at my absolute worst. And one day, he may be telling the grandkids about the day we met, "I saved your grandmother from too much dairy." That's romance!

By the way, I took the test. I tried to buy it covertly, but the CVS self-checkout machine outed me by bellowing, "WELCOME!!! TO START, PLEASE SWIPE YOUR EXTRACARE CARD!" in a silent drugstore. Turns out that I was not pregnant (just stressed), and Sarah and I celebrated with much rejoicing and vodka.