P. and I meet for the first time. We eat, though my appetite is small due to recent illness. He's got a sharp sense of humour, is charming, nice looking, though clearly at least 10 pounds heavier than his profile suggests, and 20 more than the photo he sent to me via email. We get coffee, he judges me too harshly for using a sugar substitute (which not too long ago I would have judged harshly, but I'd lost 15 pounds and was happier without the sugar). So we get coffee, walk, end up in a nice parkette in the Annex, where the Jane Jacobs rose garden is. Such a nice parkette, in the middle of the city. I think maybe he is someone who I would like to meet often, drink coffee with, and roam the city on foot with. But he's cynical about dating. And even more cynical about dating Jewish women. He gives me a hug when it ends. This one, he made me laugh. I wanted to see him again so I could kiss him. But he cancelled our second date with three hours to spare because something better came up. Defined his boundaries. Oh well.
Updated June 2024 | Acknowledgements | Copyright ©1998-2024 Risa Horowitz