I Went on My Second First Date in Over Six Years

(This time, I’m pretty sure it was a date.)

This is not my dog, nor his. Photo by Laula Co on Unsplash

Oops, I did it again.

I asked a guy out, and we went on a date.

Some backstory: after I left a six-year relationship last summer, I spent several months savoring my single status. Then I decided to create a Facebook Dating profile, both because I am a glutton and also because what doesn’t kill you at least makes you stronger (of a storyteller).

I poked around Facebook Dating, seeking a way to expand my dating pool and hopefully find a fish or two worth, um, casting my net? Baiting my hook?

I don’t think I’m doing this metaphor right — and I don’t think I’ve been doing this online dating thing quite right, either.

First, I virtually met and fell for a fella far too far away, both literally and metaphorically. Next, I asked a virtual friend to get a bourbon with me last month and went on my first first date in over six years. God, he was hot. But in spite of this, I found myself feeling emotionally indifferent, even after two strong cocktails and several hours spent staring at his gorgeous cheekbones and hands.

Our date was fine, but so not juicy in any delicious way — to live or to recount — that I’m not sure it even was a…