Tales from the Trenches Tuesday

I am here in Chicago for work today, but trying to sneak in a teen-tiny break to post a quick Tales from the Trenches story. It may be a little on the short side or not-my-usual-level-of-hilarity, but I definitely think I should get an A for effort here.

I realized that I was a bit misleading in my last posting about never having dated a Phillies fan. I guess I go on first dates or meetings with them and then never want to go on a second for one reason or another. FB was someone I had met through match.com. It was one of those where I wasn’t dying to have a meeting with him, but when he said he had Phillies tickets for the game where Oswalt was making his Phillies debut….well I wasn’t going to say no to that. I ignored the part of my brain that was reminding me that my first meetings at sporting events almost never turn out well. I told that little voice to STFU because I wanted to go and that even if the meeting sucked…at least I was going to get to see the game.

We made plans to meet up at the gates near the ticket window. I was held up by work a little bit, but wasn’t running terribly behind schedule. But apparently a little bit was too much for him, and he had headed inside to the Red Porch (a bar in the outfield of the park here in DC.)

“That’s fine,” I texted. “Did you leave my ticket at will call or something?”

“No,” he said. "Just text me when you get here and I will come down and pass it to you through the gate.”

This seemed pretty illogical to me – who doesn’t leave a ticket at will call? But what could I do other then text him when I got there.

And then wait.

And wait.

And wait some more…to the point where I wondered if he really was there or if this was all some sort of elaborate prank.

Then he finally showed up and passed me my ticket through the gate. After getting my bag checked and ticket scanned, I was greeted by him with a hearty Fist Bump. I remember thinking in my head “Did that just happen??” Trying not to kill the meeting before it even started, I told myself that maybe he was just trying to be funny. I convinced myself that it could have been worse…he could have hugged me. Which has happened to me before and is never appropriate. Partly because hugging someone you don’t know and have never met just seems weird. Mostly because I hate hugs.

So up to the Red Porch we went. Would I like a beer? Sure, thanks very much. Beer is handed to me and then….FIST BUMP. Fist bumps came steadily over the course of the entire evening. So much so that I went home with sore knuckles (and no intention of ever seeing him again, in case you hadn't already figured that out.)

When the Obamas do a little fist bump for photo ops, kind of cute. When you are forced to fist bump against your will for an entire evening by someone who uses a fist bump to punctuate their sentences the way normal people use periods? Not cute.

And on a brighter non-fist-bumping note, this afternoon I fly back to DC for an actual date this evening. Yes a date and not a meeting. I am always super private about this kind of stuff and usually don’t ever talk openly about these things…but I figured what the heck, maybe I should try something different and throw it out here on this little blog. If it goes well, I know you all will be rooting from the sidelines. And if it goes badly, well I am sure you will be reading about it next Tuesday :)