Date #6: The Friend of the Guy I Met at the Bar
I met John Goodman Man (looks like the actor), otherwise known as "the guy in the brown bomber jacket," for drinks at the same pricey steakhouse where we first met last week. I had my usual, a chardonnay, and he had a greyhound.
He works on a huge Seattle project and was anticipating a nightmarish meeting today, hence the need to meet me as early as possible for a relaxing drink. Apparently his fears were unfounded and the meeting was aces.
I was already predisposed to liking him the best of anyone I've dated since I started the site. I think it's the John Goodman thing (as Dan Connor on Roseanne, and not that psycho from Barton Fink, although he was robbed of the Oscar that year. I mean, not even a nomination? Please).
He said he finds the fact that the gloom in Seattle causes car lights to be visible by three in the afternoon gets old. He told me how a female friend of his got arrested in New Orleans for lewd public behavior (no mean feat) for an incident with a young man on the steps of a government building.
I was starving and he didn't seem to be offering dinner (which surprised me), so I ordered some tiny roast beef sandwiches off their happy hour menu. He mentioned having lunch some time, which I also took as a bad sign, as most men are more eager to extend things for dinner. I figured the only way to salvage things (in case for some reason he wasn't interested), was to really be light and cool. On the ride home he did mention several restaurants that we "have to go to," and also mentioned that he was on his way to see his daughter play in a band concert (he's divorced), which helped explain the lack of a dinner invite for me.
When I hugged him goodbye, his brown leather jacket felt like butter to my hands.
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