His profile picture had been on the studied side; suited and staring into the middle distance. It was one of those photographs that could prove to be entirely accurate or fall into a dread category known to online daters in which the frozen self bears little or no resemblance to what walks through the door. But there was a fluency and confidence to his writing that I had liked. At 54, he was five years my senior. It was worth a shot. We agreed to meet.
In retrospect, his email follow-up, setting out not only the time and place but also a detailed request for my drink order was on the pedantic side (a friend put it squarely into old-fart territory). But I had considered it to be getting the admin out of the way. Protracted waiting at the bar with someone you have never met can be excruciating.
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