tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-10971908.post-1118417159285894442005-06-10T09:59:00.000-05:002005-06-10T11:47:51.776-05:00Alan called last night, and we did talk. I guess I inadvertently gave him my work line number because that's the phone that rang around 6:40pm. I called him back a couple hours later, when I realized "Scrubs" was a rerun. I left a voicemail, and he then called about ten minutes later.<br /><br />We talked for about 45 minutes, longer than I expected, and it went fairly well. His voice is very friendly and gregarious, and he's a bit of fast talker. No surprise that he's in sales and enjoys schmoozing. We talked about our work and educational backgrounds, travel, skiing, etc. We both have marketing degrees, but he wishes he had studied something technical or related to engineering and mentioned the possibility of returning to school. We both lived in the Wrigleyville area before buying condos, and he's in the West Loop now. Eventually, he asked me if I'd like to go out, and we settled on dinner at the Red Tomato on Sunday evening.<br /><br />At first, he talked about getting together Sunday afternoon for lunch, but I bust out with the admission that I want to watch the Bears game. I don't know what I was thinking. "Wow, you really do like sports," he said. I told him I usually downplay that side of myself because guys tend to find it strange, but he disagreed and said he thought it was great. He's a Cowboys fan, and Bobby Knight coaches his college's basketball team, so he's somewhat of a fan of that team, too. He claimed to also support Chicago teams. Anyway, he offered to pick me up, but I turned him down—it'd be totally out of the way for him. And if dinner goes horribly, why protract the evening?<br /><br />I think I'm changing my tune about the drinks vs. dinner debate. Dinner has more structure to it—a start, a middle, and an end that follows a predictable pace. Dinner comes to a natural end; it's not up to someone to draw the evening to a close, as it is with drinks. You don't have to deal with the uncertainty that arises each time the possibility of ordering another round nears.<br /><br />Elsewhere, Christopher in EH answered my five questions. Like me, he said he thinks chemistry can be generated over the long term with someone you really like. But, unlike me, he thinks two kids would be ideal. Goddammit—why do these guys keep doing this? I'm starting to think they don't read my introductory profile thoroughly. His other answers were fine, but that's irrelevant if he wants kids. Because all it requires is clicking a button, I sent him my must-haves and can't-stands anyway, which includes "I must have someone who shares my desire not to have children." Nice not knowing you, Chris.<br /><br />Tim responded to my email with the Bartman photo. He had already seen it—not a surprise, the way these things circulate—but found it hilarious, so he has a sense of humor. Like Alan, he hasn't heard of David Sedaris' Santaland Diaries, which I'm going to see tonight, but that's okay. He proposed getting together some time next week, before Christmas. I have my annual grab bag party with the TV night gals on Monday night, so that leaves only Tuesday and Wednesday, which is Christmas Eve. We'll see if it works out.<br /><br />In MM, Geoff wrote that he won't dwell on mistaking me for someone else, and that I still sound fabulous. "If you'd like to chat, let me know." He signs off with an emoticon. He gives me the creeps, so I'm dropping this exchange, if you could call it that.Bemusednoreply@blogger.com