*Chuck and I matched on Tinder back in November or December (i.e. 2-3 months ago) and our conversation never really got anywhere. He lives around the block from me, also works in tech (*insert name of major ridesharing app here*) and his picture make him out to be a well-dressed hipster, clear-framed nerd glasses and all.
We meet at my favorite local bar at 8pm. I wear (don’t tell anyone) the same outfit that I wore last night with Samuel, the same skirt, the same jacket and basic girl black/gold choker necklace. Chuck arrives 5 minutes late, also apologizes for being late and inquires how long I’ve been waiting. During our brief, instant interaction, I know he’s going to be uber nerdy. When he comes back to my table with a beer in hand, my hypothesis is confirmed. He’s 6′ tall, super hipster looking, definitely attractive, but seems either a) incredibly shy b) incredibly nervous or c) incredibly uncomfortable. I take a gamble and guess that it’s a combination of at least two.
One beer in, once we’ve chatted and progressed through small talk (I’m terrible at small talk… I always go for the deep emotional fodder… but do I only do this at night? While hiding behind my g&t? (I didn’t do that this afternoon during my lunch date…)), Chuck opens up. He’s 32, has lived in this neighborhood for a few years, and is originally from Oklahoma City. He came out West for grad school and ended up staying. Chuck is passionate about public transportation, and he’s definitely self-conscious about it (he later makes a self-deprecating remark and calls it “boring”. I stop him and say that it’s not innately boring, it just isn’t a topic that society deems “glamorous.” This seems to make him feel less self-conscious). He and I discuss BART and MUNI and he tells me that terrible traffic is an almost universal grievance that consistently, detrimentally affects people’s lives. I agree with him.
He talks about how, growing up, his dad would drive one hour to work each way. There was no public transportation system, and each morning, his dad would drive alongside a freight train, moving at the same speeds as each other. Chuck is just very passionate about the wellbeing of masses of people, we boil it down to. He feels a sense of responsibility for helping the community, and improving their wellbeing. We run a full therapy session (I joke but then again, I 100% play therapist on dates.. this is becoming more and more obvious as I type these summaries up…)… Chuck is the oldest of three children. From a very young age, he tells me, he did the math and decided that it was better for his family to have 3 parents and 2 kids, as opposed to 2 parents and 3 kids (he’s 5 and 7 years older than his sister and brother, respectively). He has always felt very responsible. He was also raised Christian, and while he doesn’t go to Church anymore, he identifies as Christian. He tells me that in Church, they used to pray for their neighbors, and the community. We both remark that the emphasis placed on community wellbeing during his childhood (church, family dynamic, father’s dreary commute) has strongly shaped what Chuck cares about.
I ask him what his favorite place on Earth is, and how that doesn’t have to be a nation, or a city, or a landmark… it can be ‘his bedroom at his parents’ house’ or ‘x corner of y museum’. He asks me for a few minutes to process that question and develop a response; I walk over to the other side of the bar to pet a beautiful dog and converse with the owner.
Important details: Chuck is a software engineer. He does a lot of mobile app development, and I can tell by how he verbalizes things, that his brain is very processing-oriented. That’s not to say that he doesn’t have a creative streak somewhere, but he is very much an analytical type.
I walk back to our table and Chuck is ready with an answer: the Oklahoma City Thunder stadium. I ask him if it’s because that spot makes him feel a certain way, or he has strong memories there. He says yes, kind of, but it’s mainly the historical significance and the stadium’s meaning to his city. I ask him to tell me the story… So back in the late 80s and early 90s when Chuck was growing up, Oklahoma City was a flyover state and “didn’t really have much going on.” He tells me that everyone had a chip on their shoulder because they loved their town, yet nobody could care less about it because it wasn’t a San Francisco or a New York. Then, when Chuck was in 2nd grade in 1995, a domestic terrorist car bombing killed 168 people in Oklahoma. The city grieved, the community came together, and it was a huge blemish on the city’s already less-than-blossoming reputation. Then, in 2007, right as Chuck was moving to the Bay Area, Oklahoma increased a few tax incentives and took money out of state bonds to purchase an NBA basketball team in Seattle, that would become the Oklahoma City Thunder. The team brings immense pride and significance to his humble city, he tells me. He was traveling in Singapore and saw a kid wearing a Thunder hat. That made him immensely proud.
Chuck asks me questions, I answer him openly with stories of my own. We both amble back to the bar to get another drink. He then asks me about my siblings, and my own childhood. He asks if I’m close to my siblings. I respond with an emphatic yes and then say that I feel as if all three of us are becoming closer, like we’re all reaching the same stage of ‘young adulthood’ which is pretty lengthy, whereas earlier, I was in the ‘college’ stage while they were in the ‘high school’ stage, and how I feel on a similar level, emotionally, as them. I then remark that one of my siblings, I’ve always envied, because she is incredibly independent. I tell him that she is self-sufficient and perfectly happy being by herself, in a very non-socially-avoidant way. She has many friends, and is quite outgoing and extroverted, I explain. He nods emphatically and says he’s the exact same way… but how it feels moreso like a curse, than a blessing. He feels too self-sufficient, he tells me. I mention that I think it stems from a few ‘being uncomfortable with vulnerability’ things and he nods his head, strongly agreeing and saying he experiences that, and is becoming aware of it.
By now, it’s 10:15pm and we’ve been chatting for over two hours. The sleep deprivation from the previous night and the downing effects of the alcohol begin to hit me and I tell him I’m ready to head out soon. We leave the bar, walk toward our apartments (both in the same direction) and it feels very comfortable. During the date, I didn’t feel an ounce of sexual chemistry, either internally or from him. It felt very platonic, yet very intimate. As we’re walking down the street, I wonder if he’s gay. He had a few facial behaviors that a guy I had a weird thing with back in college (don’t even ask) used to do… and that college guy is now out of the closet. Regardless, Chuck and I hug goodbye and part ways.
I feel, all of a sudden, very tired, very drained. It could be from the 6 hours of sleep I got the night before, or my workout at the gym this morning, but I have a feeling that it’s more of a ‘you’re running low on your emotional energy reserves’ sensation. Yet I do not feel used. I do feel as if we just mutually experienced a therapy session, masquerading as a first date. But being the weirdo that I am, I’m not unhappy about it. Because Chuck fascinated me. His self-consciousness toward his non-glamorous passion and his earthy midwestern charm were refreshing. And he was vulnerable with me.
I hope Chuck enjoyed this evening as much as I did.
Themes and Lessons from this Chapter:
- Do not always play therapist on your first dates. While you enjoy getting to know a stranger’s “true self” and you feed off finding patterns within their psyche, their behaviors, and their preferences, it can most definitely be unwanted and feel invasive. You are not a licensed therapist, you are a stranger to them. Definitely warn soon-to-be victims before asking them 101 questions about their mind’s inner workings and their heart’s truest desires.
One Hundred Frogs in San Francisco 
