Pair. and a Spare.

There is no escape. You run into people everywhere.  Especially at the times when you are in a funk, your least friendliest, or right after a hot yoga class where you’re ridiculously sweaty and you decide to “pop over to Whole Foods” for a quick second.  Never. ever. again.

New Orleans is a city where even if you don’t know the person, chances are you know someone in common.  99%. And I’ve only been here a year.  People in this city become obsessed with it and never leave. So that doesn’t make it easier.  There are also the worst kind of townies here, those that have literally never left, and never really even traveled.. and are stuck here. Everyone knows everyone.

Which is the problem with online dating here.  Multiple times, I’ve had guys look through my pictures on my profile and ask me in a message if that is one of my friends they know.  Great.  One even knew EXACTLY who I was from the pics (he was in the class below me) and told me he’s already facebook stalked me. Even. better.  My reaction is to never even respond back to them. Because they can’t even play it cool enough to pretend to act like a regular person. Next.

Then there’s the run ins. Which I can’t stand. And am never prepared for.  One happening with the Introvert, a few weeks after this shit happened, I was meeting my older cousins (in town visiting, and basically running amuck.. break from the wives and girlfriends. you know how that goes.) to tailgate for the Saints game.  In case you didn’t know, this city basically shuts down for football whenever LSU or the Saints play.  And I have to admit, the fever is contagious.  But the ENTIRE city is watching and/or tailgating pre-game.. 

So I go to meet them.. and they give me the location of their tailgate.  One of them (of 10 of them) has a friend who tailgates here every week and they’re joining them for the day.  What are the chances that this friend is ALSO friends enough with the Introvert to share the SAME fucking tailgate? Please. Someone calculate the odds. I’d love to know.

I walk up. And that motherfucker is standing right there. Well hell. I’m wearing sunglasses, and am surrounded by 10 grown men (my cousins + friends.. but he doesn’t need to know that).. and a few of my girlfriends.. and all in all I win.  I avoid eye contact (dark shades help) and proceed to chug beer after beer.. all in the spirit of the Saints game, obviously.

The sun goes down, and it’s too dark for my sunglasses.. so I eventually take them off.. and he recognizes me. Calls me out. I act “so surprised” to see him. “What are the odds?” No. Really, y’all.  We do a half hug, and he goes into this long monologue of “I’d never thought I’d see you again..” on and on. Where’s your self respect, man? I’d much prefer a guy who would just crack a beer with me, and say “small world. hope you’re well” and we leave at that. Please don’t start crying.

I could only take about 4 minutes of that, then I grabbed the girls and we bolted into the crowd.  Leaving him to hopefully never see him again. But really.. who am I kidding. I’m sure to see him again.

I have a love/hate relationship with this city.