At the beginning of this project, I set out to meet my NJB.
Along the way I met dozens of men claiming to be nice, but in the end they were liars, and some were even mentally unstable (see first posts).
Fortunately for me, I have a pestering sister, mother, and father who continued to convince me to stay online, go on more dates, meet more potentials, and then, as many of you know, I did, and I came to face to face with a true NJB.
It was like finding the lochness monster,
and at first I hesitated before jumping in.
Why?
Well for starters, his age was a deterrent.
He was 23, I’m 25, almost 26, and my previous experience dating younger men/ men in general, was that they were immature and had a phobia of commitment.
Why would a 23 yr old want to be in relationship, when he’s young, free, and not yet balding?
Why would he want to be knocking boots with one woman when studies say that he is at his sexual prime?
In 2008, one such French study stated that ‘a man’s sexual testosterone peaks at 22.’
Therefore, most 23 yr olds are on the prowl looking to take full advantage of their prowess.
Truthfully, their body is pushing them to explore, not settle down.
Settling down would be like investing in an ant farm, weird and unprofitable on most accounts.
With this knowledge, you would understand why I took a few days to respond to emails that passed back and forth between this Bocher and me.
I was being safe, not stupid.
Furthermore, his emails were full of optimism.
In one he wrote, ‘It's good to look forward to the future, but what's the point if you are missing where you are right now... it's like those people who don't look out the window on an airplane, they are missing something beautiful because they are too focused on the destination.’
I read that and almost barfed… okay I threw up a little in my mouth.
The address of this blog is www.soovermen@blogspot.com
It was going to be so-over-people.com, but only my brother in law thought that was catching.
I’m not an optimist, a people person, I’m kind of shy.
I’m a writer.
I hide behind words.
They are safe.
People,
23 year boys are not.
And…
I was the administrative assistant, (also known as secretary of boredom) at the Synagogue his family attended.
I’d talked to his mother on the telephone.
It was all a little too bizarre for my taste.
Plus, after almost 5 or 6 emails passed between us I questioned whether this Bocher was actually going to ask me out.
Therefore, I wrote, ‘So, 7-0-3, how many emails usually pass before you ask the lady for her number?’
And he responded: ‘So, Bama, what's yo numba? My rule of thumb is, oh, a dozen or so emails... Some people think it's weird, but I'm not a fan of actually speaking on the phone (I do that enough at work), I'm definitely a text/bbm person.’
I gave him my number, wondering what the hell a ‘bbm person’ was,
but grew apprehensive over the thought of speaking with him, which I did that upcoming Saturday evening.The phone conversation was a bit brief, not too long, not too short, but just right, a ‘Goldi locks conversation,’ if you will...
Eventually, I was the one to ask him if he’d like to get together that next weekend, and he agreed…
Technically, I had made all the moves.
Oh, twenty-three.
Throughout the week, he texted me and we agreed to meet at Cafe Asia in Rosslyn around 8.
I was late, he was early, and as I walked in I was overwhelmed by a sea of men.
I glanced around and at the edge of the bar, a tall gentleman, beer in hand, stood glued to the TV screen which was showing the Caps play the Thrashers.
He was cute, with a curly brown mop, and dressed like he’d been pulled out of an Urban Outfitters catalogue, dark jeans with a plaid button down shirt, extremely hipster.
And, he had an earring.
Amazing, I liked all of the above.
I think he liked the looks of me as well, although, later I would learn that he was shocked by how short I was…
One of the first things he actually said to me was, ‘you know if you’re 4’10, you’re technically a midget.’
‘Wow, thanks,’ I thought.
I’m 5’2, a midget I am not.
Eventually we took our seats among the crowd and ordered drinks, appetizers and eventually sushi.
The conversation flowed smoothly as we discussed similar interests: writing, and blogging.
He had one on travel,www.chronicwonderlust.com, which I had already checked out prior to our date, and I, of course, had one on dating.
Later, I would also find out that at first, he wasn’t so ‘into me,’ because he thought I was shy, which I am…
I guess he warmed up to me, because before the evening had ended he asked me to attend a DC United Game that next Friday with some of his friends.
The check came, and although, I asked him out, he took out his wallet and paid.
An NJB always pays on the first date… it’s on the blog, duh.
He had taken the metro, and I offered to drive him to it, but he said it wasn’t necessary and we departed with only a kiss on the cheek.
The next day I told my mother he was ‘adorable.’
‘You do like those young ones,’ she said.
‘I know,’ I said with a cringe.
Oh, 23.
