I’m Normal, Please Date Me

After the last ole blue eyes sighting, I was angry with myself for not actually speaking to him. I vowed that I would do whatever I could to muster the inner strength to speak to him. Wait, if I treated his eyes like an eclipse and not look directly into them, I would have a better chance of actually forming a coherent sentence. Who cares if I was staring at the floor or counting the tiles on the ceiling, I would be able to talk to him. A plan was starting to form. I spent all week devising my strategy of attack. I was ready.

When I walked into the yoga studio, I tentatively looked around. He wasn’t there yet. Good. I have time to change into my best yoga outfit. Yes, you heard correctly, my best yoga outfit. Tight black tank top, snug black linen shorts. I looked at myself in the mirror and I looked good. I attribute this to  spending an hour and a half at the gym during lunch preparing for this moment. I walked out the dressing room proud as a peacock. He wasn’t there yet. I lingered in the lobby fidgeting with my phone, as not to appear like I was waiting for anything. There was no sign of him. I reluctantly went into class hoping that he might be here when my class was finished. I walk out of class, chest high with mock confidence. I heard that this is how you snare a mate, with confidence. I don’t know where I heard it, probably Animal Planet. Alas, he still wasn’t there. I quickly deflated back into my shy, meek self.

Sitting on the subway home with my shrunken ego, a light bulb came on: Facebook! Ever since the invention of Facebook, cyber-stalkers were able to climb to new heights. Thank you Mr. Zuckerberg. If he was on Facebook, and who isn’t these days, he would be easy to find. As I suspected the yoga studio had its own page. Now I was off and running. I then searched the people that were connected to the studio’s page. Only two Philips. Gasp. And there he was.  Ok, now what to do? Well, since I now had his last name, the only logical progression was to take that information to my good friend, Google. Google, I will admit that when you first arrived on the scene I was reluctant to use you. I was partial to Yahoo, Lycos, and even WebCrawler. But now Google, I am your faithful servant. You made finding out about Philip easier than I anticipated. Philip is a modern dancer and someone uploaded a program from a past show. Thank you whoever you are. I know this makes me seem a little crazy, a lot crazy, OK certifiably crazy,but I had his bio. I now know where he grew up, went to school and that he was gymnast. I was in stalker heaven. Fueled my discoveries, I drafted an email.

I know this email is probably going to come off slightly-cyber-stalker-esque and please know I don’t send emails to random people, But I have seen you the last couple of weeks at yoga (I am Mark’s friend who was taking his beginner for Men class) and I thought you were quite intriguing. I was just writing to see if you had any interested in grabbing a cup of coffee or a cocktail sometime.

In a fit of adrenaline I hit send. I was quite proud of myself. As I was prepping for bed, the gravity of my actions came crashing down around me. What did I just do? Ummm…you just sent someone, who you never met, an email asking him out on a date, you crazy cyber-stalker.

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4 Comments

Filed under Dating, Gay, New York City, Philip, Yoga

4 responses to “I’m Normal, Please Date Me

  1. Haha, oh well. It’s better not to lead anybody on to think that you’re not a little bit crazy. 😉 How brave, though! Let us know how it turns out!

  2. Can’t wait to hear the follow up…

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  4. Pingback: Damn You Debbie Gibson! | Positively Dating

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