So I promised you the story of The Philosopher and by golly you shall have it.

I met him over Yahoo personals. He seemed quirky and reasonably good looking and we started to email back and forth. It was a rather odd email exchange where we discussed mundane things but also poked a healthy amount of fun at each other. Finally we set a time to meet. But the day we were to meet, The Philosopher emailed to say he had a job offer in North Carolina and was moving right away. He was worried about packing and was distracted and wanted to give our date his full attention. He assured me he would be back in the area often and he wasn’t blowing me off. I didn’t hear from him for roughly a month. I forgot I’d given him my phone number.

A month or so later, my phone rings with an unrecognized number on caller ID. I answer, and it’s the Philosopher. After he jogs my memory, we have a nice enough conversation but he wants to go out. Now. I was busy and sick and couldn’t do it. We discuss how much longer he’ll be in town and try to come up with other plans. Alas, not meant to be. He heads back to North Carolina with no date. This time at least I programmed his number into my phone so he wouldn’t catch me off guard again.

About a month or so later, he came back into town. This time we pick a night in advance but leave plans open. My mother was staying with me and was fascinated by the whole process. I assured her we had plans, but could not tell her what they were. “So you’re just going to wait around on the off chance you have plans with this guy?” I had to explain, we had plans… we just didn’t know what they were yet. I assured her The Philosopher would call that evening right around the time he was ready to go out. She shrugged. I explained, that’s just how he is. And it was. He called that night and we headed out to an Irish bar nearby.

The Philosopher is so named because of his odd habit of asking weird and/or deep questions out of the blue just to spark conversation. A mild example happened as we sat down in the pub and ordered our beers. He turned to me and without introduction asked if I had any tattoos. As it happens, I do but it is hidden and I tend not to tell people who don’t have a need to know. I was caught off guard, but told him about it. Then I turned the question around as any good One Date Wonder will do, to keep conversation going. Also, in my not so humble experience, the tattoo question is only asked by those who also have them. Not in the case of The Philosopher. He had none, just wanted to make conversation.

That night we talked about politics, morals, and the meaning of life. Because that is how conversation goes with The Philosopher. He touched me frequently throughout conversation, testing his limits, and ended up holding my hand as our discussion started to wind down. He also revealed he has an excessively strange name, which is far too unique for me to ever type out here. It was so unbelievable in fact, that I had trouble believing I’d heard him right in the light of the next day. And yet, I had.

After all the talking, we made out in the backseat of his car until the parking lot was empty and we had to head for home. He wanted to come back to my place, but I turned him down. However, it was the first time in a long time that I let myself start to like someone. He said he’d call, and indeed he would. But really, it was all downhill from there.

I’ll save the rest for another entry as this has gotten quite long. But trust me, there’s more to this story.