Confession time. I’m blogging from a coffee shop, but it is not new to me. It’s my staple coffee shop. In my defense, it has a perfect outdoor patio space, it’s a block from my apartment, the coffee is strong and cheap, and they make the most delicious chicken salad sandwich I have every eaten. Seriously. So now that I’ve polished off my lunch, I’m sipping my reasonably priced coffee and getting down to the business of blogging.

It’s been a busy few days, and I’m happy to have this time and space to process them while I piece my latest adventures together into a coherent narrative.  To start, I had a fabulous weekend filled with spontaneous fun with many wonderful girlfriends.  Friday night, two friends and I bopped around my neighborhood eating delicious food and sipping cocktails on rooftops.  Yes, rooftops – plural.  We started at Mahalo, a Hawaiian themed restaurant where we conned our way onto the rooftop patio sans reservation, then headed to Whisky Business, a cleverly named bar on Milwaukee Ave with a bustling outdoor space, and then after losing one friend to her own IRL date, we finished the evening at both rooftops at Wicker Park’s newest hotspot – The Robey Hotel (one on the sixth floor, and one atop the hotel).  We ate, we drank, we laughed, and we talked to strangers – including three men who offered us seats at their poolside table, and a pair of friends visiting from the west coast who were just tickled to learn they had serendipitously found themselves at a place as in-demand as the roof of The Robey.  No phone numbers were exchanged, and no dates materialized from Friday night, but it was one of those evenings that made me realize how ridiculously fortunate I am to be living the life I am – soaking up this gorgeous city and spending time with truly incredible friends. 

Saturday I found myself at the Old St. Pat’s block party with two different friends. While the last two years the party was held on the UIC campus, this year it moved back to Adams and Desplaines, and it just felt right to be back in the shadow of OSP’s green steeples.  I arrived early – about a half hour before my friends – got a drink, and spent some time enjoying the cover band while I waited for them to arrive.  We had a great time at the party – catching up with friends, making connections, and just generally supporting the church I love so much. 

The block party wrapped up around 10:30, and my friend Jenny and I headed out on the town with the express purpose of talking to strangers – men, specifically.  We started at one of the designated “after-party” bars where the crowd was pretty thin, but we warmed up by getting a drink at the bar while exchanging witty repartee with the bartender.  Afterward, we moved on to Parlor Pizza on Randolph.  As most single women in this city know, if you can’t find a man to talk to at Parlor, you’re probably not trying hard enough.  Sure enough, we arrived shortly after the rooftop closed down for the night, and the main bar was packed with prospects.  We shimmied up to the bar, and I squeezed in between two men, turning to Jenny to ask her what she’d like to drink.  The man to my right turned around and made some clever remark about how I should buy him a drink.  We bantered back and forth, and ultimately, our first drink was on him.  His name is Steve** and we discovered that we had quite a few connections.  When he told me he was there with his grade school friends, I knew he had to be from the south side, and Jenny and I spent some time chatting with Steve and his grade school buddies.  When one of his friends proved to be just a little too drunk, and consequently belligerent, I told Steve we were going to move to the other side of the bar.  He said he wanted to keep talking to me, and I said he could take me out this week and talk to me all he wants. Bold, I know. He took my number, Jenny and I found our way around to a different part of the bar, and ultimately stayed until close.  I don’t remember the last time I saw the lights go on at a bar, but Saturday nearly had me feeling twenty-five again.

Sunday was another day filled with friends and fun, and while my day was full, I’ll admit I wondered if I would hear from Steve. Sunday evening he texted me,  “So I think you asked me out on a date last night.”  I laughed out loud and responded “Pretty much! ::winky face emoji::” After some back and forth, I told him that I would be going out of town early Thursday morning, so he had a limited window if he was interested in said date.  We’re getting drinks tonight.

On the cusp of my second IRL date in just a few short weeks, I have to say that dating without swiping is just one perk of talking to strangers – albeit a huge one.  Already I’ve noticed how my new commitment has begun to affect other relationships in my life.  I’m more open and spontaneous, I’m saying yes to invitations I might otherwise decline, and I’m learning more about myself every day.  That kind of personal growth I’ll swipe right on any day.

 

Until next time…

Kath

P.S. If you are wondering about David the ortho doc – his communication has waned. I can’t say I’m surprised, but I am a bit disappointed.  If you’re wondering about gym-selfie dude – he’s still texting me. In the total absence of response from me. Of course. 

P.P.S. If you’re wondering if you should check out The Robey, the answer is yes.  But don’t take my word for it, just take a look at these pictures: