A Different Point of View

I met Nick at a memorial service last October. He walked up to our group, just as a former co-worker asked me in an inappropriately loud voice, "Are you dating anyone now or are you still single?" I cringed. We were there to mourn the death of a friend, not talk about my dating life. "There's no good men in L.A.," she shouted again. "They all suck."

I turned to Nick and introduced myself. He worked in the entertainment industry, but was taking some time off to help kids in a third world country. We exchanged business cards, but I never heard from Nick until he started following my dating experiences online. We emailed back and forth a few times and then six weeks later, we met for drinks. He offered to write a piece for my blog, so I happily accepted. Here it is:

"These words, are truly, sincerely, really being written by a boy, mid-date with the infamous Carolyn. It's true.

In light of her entertaining blogs, I half-seriously offered to make a contribution from the male's perspective - even during the same night.

The glugs of Jack Daniels made me think this was a good idea, but honestly, I'm having my best (date) time in recent memory, and this exercise gave me extra time with her.

I knew Carolyn in a very quick and random way and although hopeful, could not bet the farm on this date -- I'm younger (and if the navy seal couldn't cut it...) jetlagged, just home from more than a month on the other side of the world, and well, whatever else... life. Sparks rarely fly, so the odds were against us.

This being my side of the story, I only get to speak for moi, a needy Cancer. I fished for some positive feedback throughout the night, as my own enthusiasm grew, but like a poker player at the final table, I could read little from Carolyn.

She kissed me back and I'm still sitting next to her. You would think that would be all I need to know, but strangely that's not the case.

On the page, and in person, Carolyn is what we all say we want-- smart, funny, soulful, and attractive -- that more or less is the magic combination, and in cities like LA, two out of three is a win. At 37, and never married, I'm now holding out for three or more, which leaves me with combinations like a Mensa member who volunteers a lot at the Laugh Factory, but looks like Harvey Keitel. I'd like to wait for all four, but that seems a distant dream with the sense of humor being the Lochness monster of the group -- often spotted from a distance but, in reality, only a rocky outcrop in the mist.

Along comes Carolyn and indeed she is all four. You'd think I'm a friend helping her out at this point by writing this, but no. It's the truth. For some reason, I love the idea of sharing this as it's happening, for better or worse -- either way you were here."

I read Nick's piece to my friend Ivan this morning, asking if he thought it was a good idea to post his very complimentary words online. "Are you kidding me?" he asked. "I pay someone $800 a month to tell me how great I am. Post it."

Thank you Nick.