So, fast forward to last night. I had started talking to a guy from a dating Web site earlier this week, mainly because he liked some of the same bands I do. He also is an alumni, albeit a little older so we were never on campus together. After some back and forth, he wrote to me on Thursday night asking if I wanted to see some band in Philly. I didn't have anything to do, so I said sure. It was bound to be better than meeting flustered 50 year old guys for drinks.
We met outside of the venue, and it was literally a date from 1992 albeit with some wrinkles, gray hair and talk of our kids. He was cute. He was quiet and thoughtful, just like I remembered Rutgers boys to be like. He talked about music he loved and the job at a record company he had in college. He gave me a ride to the train station afterwards. That's the good news.
He's recently separated and in that trying to figure stuff out phase. He's got four kids, all older than 10, I think. He works for his Dad's company in Jersey, and he lives about an hour away from me in South Jersey.
So, I have no idea. I'd be pleasantly surprised if I see him again, but then again I wouldn't be surprised if I didn't. But it was nice to at least glimpse at the other path.
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