While going through my feeds and e-mail, I saw a link to an article called “Don’t Date and Blog”.

Don’t date and blog? Hell, that’s where I get my best material! However, there was one line in the article — a mundane line, really — that gave me cause to pause.

Guys can be scared away by the simplest of things.

Which reminds me of my “date” with Housecat from Saturday! (See what I mean about getting material?)

Before I go into it, I should give a little bit of backstory.

About a month or so ago, I got a reply from an ad from a guy that looked pretty good on paper. Doctoral candidate, around my age, fairly attractive…but he looked familiar. Turned out he went to my alma mater and graduated in the class after me. I actually replied to an ad of his maybe a year or two prior, but never heard back from him so I figured it wasn’t a match. So my reply to him was brief, stating that we had a mutual friend (planetCH) and that we went to the same college.

And that was the simple thing that scared him. He completely shut off communication with me, but guess what had two thumbs and couldn’t leave well enough alone? You know it.

I decided to ask planetCH what the deal was. Now he and I have been friends for a while (he and Apollo were college roommates) and have kept in touch ever since. And since I knew we both knew Housecat, I figured he could give me the skinny on what’s going on with him so I could have a little insight into the situation. planetCH suggested that when he came into town (he’s currently in New England), the three of us could go out for dinner or drinks or something and I could get to know him.

Fast-forward to Saturday.

I just finished up some client work, and planetCH and I were out having sangria and cervezas and shooting the shit. You know…catching up on old times. I was somewhere between Negra Modelo #3 and #4 when I suggested that planetCH call him up so we could go hang out. That’s right — going out on a group date when I’ve already got my buzz on. Now that’s a class act, ladies and gentlemen.

Meeting Housecat was…well, it was kinda tame, to be honest. Given the quick brush-off I got from him a month or so ago, I expected things to be a little spicier. (I mean, I did just go through a similar situation last week, remember?) We started to talk a little bit about Morehouse and he asked me where I stayed freshman year.

“Well, I started out in Graves, but I ended up moving to a few other dorms that year.”

“Oh really?” he asked. “What happened?”

“I…really don’t want to tell that story. Maybe I’ll tell you after we know each other a little better.” Then I changed the subject. After we all got to the restaurant, he brought it up again.

“So tell me the story of how you stayed in so many different dorms freshman year.”

“I don’t want to tell that story…I mean, that’s not really a good first impression story.”

“Oh go ahead, I want to hear it!” I turn to planetCH, who is nodding in agreement. Turns out he hadn’t heard the story either. Housecat was pretty insistent on hearing this from me. After mulling it over for a bit, I decided to oblige him.

“Now like I said…this is not a good first impression story. But you asked for it.”

And so I told him the story of my freshman year at Morehouse. And his non-verbal reactions were a little something like this (check the 0:58 and 2:02 mark):

Needless to say, at the end of the night, there were no numbers exchanged between Housecat and I. And I’m OK with that. The saga continues.