On Monday night last week, I flew to Budapest for a meeting on Tuesday. I arrived at the hotel at night, and when I was settled in, it was soon 11 o’ clock. At which time I had made a phone date with a woman I’d found on that dating site. Or rather: she had found me, and we’d had a fun exchange of messages. Her photos promised that she could be cute (you never quite know with these photos …), and I was a little anxious as to how the conversation would go. And then, the call went like a charm … incredibly easy, hardly any awkward moments at all. It was most strangely reaussuring. I found someone witty, sure of herself, funny, sharing some ideas that I have myself, aware, open, yet keeping exactly the right distance. It was rather remarkable, and we spent two hours talking until 1 AM.
The meeting in Budapest went well, I returned to Berlin and then went to Munich for the second half of the week. On Thursday night, her and I spoke again, this time for an hour. And we fixed a date for Saturday night. I had returned to Berlin on Friday night, went to see the DSO play at the Philharmonie that evening, and then spent Saturday chilling out, gathering myself together, after two turbulent weeks that followed the Japan trip. I took my motorcycle to the garage that keeps it over the winter, and I went for a long run. And at ten at night, I met with B.
She was cuter in real life than on her photos. We went walking in Berlin Mitte, to finally find a place where we could sit down and drink something. At first I felt that the conversation in real life didn’t flow as easily as it did on the phone. I even mentioned that. But as time went on, we both probably relaxed (and she is a great talker, never seems at a loss for things to say), and things began to get easier. I was fascinated by her, couldn’t quite read her the way you can read some people. There are things going on behind her big dark eyes that she won’t say, and that I am curious about. She can make herself appear a little naive at times, but then you realize that that may just have been a face she puts on. I think she is very caring, considerate, about other people, about not being late for a meeting, about other people’s feelings. Yet she has no qualms fooling a museum attendant by acting out some prank with him. And her sense of humor can be quite biting. What a combination.
Our conversations spanned another long walk and an extended stay in another bar on the southern end of Prenzlauer Berg, and then another long walk back to Mitte, where she lives. When we had ended up on her street corner, not wanting to say good-bye, we both stood there for another hour (in the cold, between 3 and 4 AM), just keeping talking for talking’s sake, and also agreeing on the next date. When it was finally time to say good-bye (I could tell that she was cold, and so was I), I kissed her on her cheek, and then just went for it, and slightly shifted, to kiss her on her lips, and so we kissed, once, twice, three times, and it tasted so sweet, and was so warm and welcome, and I am still somewhat in disbelief that it actually happened; and that it happened so easily, and that the absolutely very first person I am seeing from one of these sites turns out to be this amazing being.