Love the same page. eHarmony James* and I made it through the quick questions, kicked a$$ on the makes n' breaks, and I even managed to successfully traverse the "digging deeper" stage of eHarmony's Guided Communication without relinquishing an inch of sardonic territory. Great success. That only took two and a half weeks.
Our real life meet n' greet takes place over tea and orange juice at my home away from home, La Conversation. Our server and a few of the familiar faces were quite amused to see an obvious first date in action.
eHarmony James is great. He's smart. He's funny. He loves his family. He loves his work. He's super grounded. He's also super serious. This guy knows exactly what he wants. My ovaries tremble. On the outside, I'm totally cool and we chat about almost everything. Like eHarmony Andrew, eHJ tells me he hasn't read my blog because he didn't want to feel like he was spying on me. Must be an eHarms thing.
At one point, I bring up a man-friend of mine who happens to possess very limited game where girls are concerned, and chooses to employ it solely on young, and generally struggling, actresses/models.
eHJ: I could teach this guy a few things. Guys have to work their way up to the nice girls. They need to do the whole a$$hole, get a hot dumb girl to go home with them thing because they've seen it in the movies and it looks awesome -- it looks like the dream. And then they grow from there.
He's such a grownup.
When eHJ excuses himself to the restroom, a dear family friend stops by the table to add her two cents to the situation.
DFF: He seems like a very nice young man. But maybe a little boring? Yes, maybe too boring.
Yes, maybe too boring, DFF.
eHJ tells me he'd love to get together again, but will leave the ball in my "very fashionable court".
Back at home, I attempt to set up a location for my date that evening with Tinder James. Emphasis on the Tinder.
Me: I'm in Beverly Hills, so anything here or Weho or Culver City's pretty easy to get to. Honor Bar on Beverly Dr. is cute...or Duplex on 3rd. Or 3rd Stop on 3rd.
eHJ: I think you're setting up a date with the wrong guy Stacie ☺
Sh*t. Not again. I really need to start eliminating all the duplicate names. Like the five-year-old that I am, I fabricate an obviously fake, over-explanatory explanation.
Me: Ha! Oops. Well, he's a 21-year-old sorority chick hoping to get into fashion, so it was an easy mistake. You all look alike.
eHJ responds well.
eHJ: Ah. Too bad. I enjoy a little competition ☺
Like I said -- grownup.
*not his real name