Those of you who are loyal blog readers will remember my story about the new friend Randall* I met in a Lyft.  In early June, we shared a ride and some great conversation, and as I got out at my destination, he slipped me his business card and told me to email him so he could keep me posted on events and fundraisers he was hosting to benefit his non-profit.  Subsequently, I went to the flip-cup tournament he hosted, and because he was so busy that day, I talked to him for roughly two-minutes total.  He followed up with an email thanking me for coming and gave me his phone number – asking me to text him so we could more easily stay in touch.  I did, we chatted briefly over text, and that was that.

When I was in New Orleans last week, I got a text from him that read “Hey Lyft friend! I’m off all next week.  Didn’t know if you had any plans.  If not, a beach day should be in our future 😜 Thoughts? 👍.” I responded that I was out of town until Monday, but would definitely be up for a beach day later in the week.  He contacted me on Tuesday, and we made plans to beach it on Thursday.  He’d bring the beer, I’d bring the snacks.

Now, you may be wondering the very thing that crossed my mind as I texted back and forth with him to plan this beach outing.  “Was this a date?” I didn’t think it was, but did he? With online dating, there is never a question that the few hours you spend hanging out and drinking with a man is, at least by most definitions, a date.  If you are not already romantically interested in one another – you are at least attempting to ascertain if there is the possibility for a romantic connection.  But this day at the beach?  I had no idea.  As we solidified plans, I was simultaneously texting with my friend Erin, and I invited her to join us at the beach.  She replied “I don’t know…that sounds like a date.”  Ok, one vote for “date.” 

On Thursday morning I woke up and eyed the cloudy skies wondering if this would even turn into a decent beach day.  I went to the gym where my trainer kicked my butt, and then I packed my beach bag and headed to Mariano’s for snacks.  As I picked out white cheddar popcorn and classic style hummus, I decided that I would put the whole question of what this meeting “was” out of my mind and just have fun.  The sun was just beginning to peek through the hazy Chicago sky as I left the grocery store, and as I pointed my Civic north toward the beach, I turned my radio up, rolled my windows down and smiled – shaking my head as I thought about how this whole talking to strangers thing really is a daily adventure.  Six months ago, I probably would have just put Randall’s business card in my purse only to come across it months later and vaguely remember the guy I shared a ride with.  Even more likely, I would have never taken a shared ride in the first place.  But today I was wearing a bikini, cruising up Lakeshore Drive to meet a man I had spent roughly twelve minutes talking to – and he was bringing the Lagunitas. Life is pretty cool. 

I got to the beach before Randall and set up my camp by the first lifeguard station.  As I spread out my towel and stretched out, I briefly wondered how this day would go – I barely knew the guy and I had signed up to spend the day at the beach with him.  He called me when he arrived, I spotted him walking across the beach in his neon orange board shorts, and I stood up to hug him hello.  He sat down, poured us drinks in red solo cups, and we spent the next five hours talking, laughing and swimming at the beach.  After three hours, I had to put more money on my parking meter, and by 6:30 I had to tell him I needed to get going.  He walked me to my car, hugged me goodbye, and said he would talk to me soon.  Later that night he followed up with a call-back joke from the day and told me had a great time spending time with me.

Was it a date? Jury’s still out. Most of my friends have said all signs point to yes, but honestly, I’ve realized that it doesn’t matter.  What makes a date?  A date is talking, laughing, and learning about another person and yourself in the process.  It’s taking chances and opening up to possibilities that don’t fit into the cookie cutter plan you’ve laid out for yourself.  By that definition – this was a date and a really good one at that. Whether I see Randall again, and under what circumstances, remains to be seen – but I’ll be surprised if I don’t.  Regardless, I had a good time, and have another great story.

Until next time…