The Carpenter

I receive an email from a cute looking guy saying that he finds me attractive. I am intrigued by the many pictures of him doing adventurous things such as rock climbing, mountain biking, and kayaking, so I email him back. We have a few nice conversations both over email and on the phone. Eventually, we decide to meet in Denver over the weekend. This is sort of a big deal because he lives in Buena Vista, a long ways away from Denver.

He insists that it’s fine for him to drive all that way just to have dinner with me, so we make a plan and here’s how it goes: we meet at the restaurant. As soon as I park my car to start walking towards the door of the restaurant, a newborn bird flies through the air and lands with a splat on the sidewalk in front of me. It is flailing around but doesn’t have feathers yet. This seems like a bad sign.

I see the dude fly by the restaurant as I wait outside for him. I call him and walk him back through the steps on where it is located and where to park. After a little while, I see him walk down the sidewalk toward me. He is very tiny, something you can’t tell by looking at an internet picture. His ears stick out at a remarkable angle. These are the first things I notice about him. That, and the fact that he seems awfully jittery. I wonder if he’s taken some sort of speed.

As we enter the restaurant, he exclaims that there are more people in it than live in his hometown. I can’t help but notice that when I talk to him or ask him a question, his facial expressions seem to be in sharp contrast to the actual words being spoken. It almost looks at times as if he has an imaginary friend he’s talking to. I find this very disconcerting.

On the other hand, I appreciate his passion for his work and hobbies. He loves to kite-surf. We talk for a while about that and I am enjoying learning about something new. He tells me that doing carpentry work is like urinating for him: it’s something he just has to do, something that just flows out of him. I tell him that he probably should develop a new analogy when explaining this to a gal on the first date. I try to offer up some other options, but he still likes his.

We talk about rock climbing-a common passion for both of us. He tells me that his last girlfriend burst into tears when he took her climbing. It sounded very traumatic. I told him I'm not much of a crier, especially not when climbing.

We go from the restaurant to Washington Park where he lets his two dogs out of his truck to run around as we walk around the lake. We are the only two people out at this point and he seems much more at peace.

At the end of the evening, we say goodnight and go our separate ways, saying the obligatory “let’s hang out” and “I’ll call you.” I wouldn’t mind seeing him again as a friend. He’s really interesting and seems like a kind-hearted soul. But, the feeling of disconnection pressed on me the whole evening, so I know he’s not “the one”.