The Great American Fix-Up

A while back, I let many of my friends know that if they wanted to fix me up with someone, I was game. An engaged and much-in-love friend of mine took the bait. She has a male friend who she thought I should meet. She admitted she wasn't positive we'd be a good match, but stated that we had some similarities and therefore might be attracted to one another.

I said yes to a meet.

So, she called him and he looked at my picture and said okay. She called me back, and we made plans to meet at Wild River Grille on the 25th. The group would consist of my friend, her fiancé, this guy and me.

I got to the restaurant about five minutes early, and waited outside. My friend is notorious for her lateness. True to form, she was late. She called, and said her fiancé was ahead of her and told me to look for him. Then she asked me if there were any lone men hanging around the restaurant that looked like the guy I was supposed to meet. I did see one guy - but he looked nothing like the picture I had seen, so I told her no.

Shortly after we hung up, a very good looking guy came up to me and said, "You must be Peej. I'm Peter!" He shook my hand, and then turned to the lone guy sitting all by himself and said, "And look - there's Greg!"

Here we were, less than a hundred feet away from one another, and because he didn't look like his picture I had no idea it was him. However, as I look just like my picture - and really, who could miss the red hair - I was puzzled as to why he hadn't come over and introduced himself. I chalked it up to shyness.

We made our introductions, and then got a seat inside the restaurant. I think most of us wanted to sit outside, but Greg's bald spot had gotten sunburned the day before, and so he wanted to be indoors.

My friend arrived about 10 minutes later - but Peter had made conversation easy. It turns out that Greg, my pseudo-date, is quite the talker. He's not funny - but boy can he talk.

And talk.

And talk.

And talk he did, about everything from pointing out his poison ivy infected appendages (his legs, thankfully, were covered), to his amazing chicken soup that cures all ills. He talked about river rafting and skiing and river rafting and kayaking and river rafting and equipment and river rafting and his sunburn and river rafting.

He really likes river rafting.

When the waiter came over for our drink order, I panicked just a tad. See, I'm currently very poor and I wanted to opt for water, but as we were technically meeting for drinks, I decided to splurge on a beer. However, Greg interjected before I could order, "I thought it would be nice if we got a bottle of wine to share."

Gulp. Bottles of wine are expensive...especially at the Wild River Grille. However, everyone else agreed, and I thought to myself, well, I can survive on peanut butter and low carb crackers if I have to... so I nodded my head in agreement. I would have spoken, but I was too afraid my voice would sound shaky and scared.

We decided on a bottle of wine (we couldn't order Cab, which we were leaning toward because Greg doesn't like it. I can't fault him, because if the choice was Chardonnay, I would have had to put a veto in on that as well). I calmed down a bit, thinking that maybe since it was his idea, he was going to spring for it.

I found out later that I was wrong.

We ordered some food and commenced with the fix-up. It would be a lie to say I didn't get a word in edgewise, but well, let's just say I didn't get many words in.

When the bill finally came, my part came to about $25. I panicked a bit inside - I was hoping I could get out of this for about $12, but with the wine and dessert and thank God I couldn't eat the appetizer, my portion was more than I expected it would be.

It's a good thing I have peanut butter at home and some eggs. Looks like homey ain't going grocery shopping for a week or so.

After dinner, we went for a walk and talked. Well... yeah, you guessed it - Greg did most of the talking. I managed to get in a couple of jokes, and while my friend and her fiance laughed, he kind of didn't get them.

Or maybe he did and didn't think they were funny.

Or maybe he thought they were funny but doesn't know how to laugh.

When we all decided to part ways, he was a gentleman and walked me to my car. He said he didn't trust that area of town and wanted to be sure I got to my car safely. I thought that was nice.

At the car, I asked him if he wanted a ride to his car (parked about two blocks away). He declined, shook my hand and said it was good to meet me. Then he said, "Well, I'm sure I'll see you around at some of Jodi's get-togethers."

That's when it dawned on me that he wasn't interested in me.

WTF? Not that I minded, yet I was thinking... hmmm... what just happened here? I dressed up, drove downtown and spent $25 to meet a guy who monopolizes the conversation, has no detectable sense of humor, and it turns out he's not interested in me?

I could have purchased a two-month membership to eHarmony for that - and been rejected ten times for my money, instead of just once.

I also wondered what made my friend think Greg and I could be a match. He's an outdoor guy, and I'm a girl who worships the great indoors. I have a good sense of humor, and Greg wouldn't know a joke if it bit him in the face. He plays instruments and sings, and my greatest musical ambition is to not get gonged at Gong Show Karaoke.

On the other hand, I know my friend thinks highly of both of us, so I am thankful that she thought enough of me to try to jump start my love life. I honestly don't think she completely thought it through. She probably just thought, “Hey Greg is nice and single. Peej is nice and single. Why not?”

When I got home, I asked myself if I would do something like this again. The answer was yes. Not all guys I meet are going to be a match - but if I don't meet any guys at all, then I'll never find a match, will I?

So if you're reading this and you just happen to know some guy who you think would be a match for me, go ahead and fix us up. I only ask that we not buy a bottle of wine to share... at least until I'm making more money.