I Spy

"Oh my god," began Stefanie, "I think I went on a date with that guy."

We were sitting at Peregrine Espresso using coffee and a shared ham-and-cheese scone to power up for a Sunday walk and catch-up session. (Sidebar: apologies for the hiatus... the less I see Stefanie, the fewer hilarious stories I have to tell you all.)

She cocked her head towards a tall, skinny boy with glasses sitting in a far corner of the coffee shop. She couldn't quite tell, as he was wearing a cap and hunched over a laptop, but she had an inkling.

A handful of months back, Stefanie's roommate Bonnie set her up on a date with a guy she had met and thought to be perfect for Stefanie. The date went well, morphing from coffee into drinks, with easy banter and witticisms aplenty. After that they exchanged a few breezy emails, none of which contained an invitation for a second date. The emails soon trailed off with a mention of him being "really busy" and things just flopped from there.

C'est la vie, right? Well, yes... until months later he emailed Stefanie to ask her a mundane question about her grad school program. No flirting, no mention of meeting up, no apologies for being weird. Just burst briefly back onto the scene to ask what she thought of her program, as he was thinking of applying.

Now, those of you who know Stefanie personally know that many, MANY people value her opinions. Her keen observations and sharp assessments of human behavior have renowned her as a wise sage in our circle. But really, guy? REALLY?

"And you know I'm going to end up sitting next to this clown in class," Stefanie mused. "And now Peregrine? Why on earth would he be all the way in our neighborhood, when he lives way up in Columbia Heights?"

Indeed. And an area that undoubtedly has many an indie coffee shop to patronize, at that.


That's just Stefanie's awkward luck.