And the verdict...

Okay! It was okay! He's moderately attractive, he's very smart, he's charming, I had a good time!

I'm not going to marry him any time soon, so my eHarmony investment is intact, but still, it was a pleasant way to spend the evening. We're going out again on Saturday night, and I'm calling him tonight to nail down the details, but all in all, a positive experience.

Several uncanny coincidences:

We have the same phone. I know, I know. Most of America has the same phone as me, but still. Same color and everything.

He just finished reading "The Reader". I'm halfway through it right now.

His brother is 16 months younger than he is. My brother is 16 months younger than I am.

Several odd occurrences:

We sat down at the restaurant, and the waitress came up to us and said to me, "I'm so sorry, I have to tell you, your perfume smells SO GOOD. I love it! You smell AMAZING!" Awwwwkward pause. Then, I said, "Um...are you hitting on me?" We laughed, awkwardness deflected. Still, weird.

We went out to a bar after dinner, just to grab drinks and talk about life a little bit. My back was to the very young looking and obviously extremely inebriated guy on my right. I did notice, however, that though the bar was nearly empty, he was scooting closer and closer and closer to me. Finally, he elbows me in the back and gestures to the 5 screens of basketball that are on at the bar. Here's how the whole exchange went down.

(and note: I will replace the profanity with "fudge" for now, but know this, gentle reader. I didn't say "fudge".)

Drunk Kid: You watching this?
Me: (surprised) Um...well, it's on the 5 screens in front of my face, so I guess so.
Drunk Kid: (flips the bird at the TV screen) Fudge you, basketball.
Me: Yes. Fudge you, basketball. Fudge you. That'll show 'em.
Drunk Kid: (instantly irate) You know what, lady? Fudge you!
Me: You know what, pal? Fudge YOU!
Drunk Kid: (pause) I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I love you.
Me: Aw...you know I can't stay mad at you.
Drunk Kid: (stumbles away to bother someone else, and is immediately escorted out by a burly hostess.)

When he walked away, R. was like, "what the hell just happened?" And I proudly said, "It's important for you to know that I can hold my own in a bar fight." Seriously, I was ready. The kid weighed 135, tops. I could have kicked his ass. But I was wearing a skirt, and was really trying to make a good impression.

I think I did.

Anyway, R. is an editor for one of the big papers in town, so I shall dub him: The Editor! Voila! A nickname is born!

As for Paul, whom I mentioned several blogs ago, he has dropped off the face of the earth. That's for the best. I was already envisioning how hard it would be to dump someone with dimples like that.

There's one more guy on the horizon right now: P. He's a scientist, and lives very close to where I live. How convenient!

Pros:
Funny.
Smart.
Lives in my neighborhood.

Cons:
Short.
No, REALLY short.
Lives in my neighborhood (I once had to avoid my grocery store for 6 months after an awkward in-town breakup...sheesh).

The other interesting thing is that I am being consistently set up with Southern men who have recently relocated to this area. Who knew that there was a tsunami of single men heading this way from the deep South? I feel like there should be a TV channel devoted to the migration patterns of bachelors.

I ate meat while out with The Editor last night, and I explained that I was magically turning myself into a vegetarian on Monday. He found it amusing. I found that endearing.