East Coast/Tin Man

(Blogger‘s finally back up…)

Well, the big meeting happened last night, and we had a really nice time. The plan was to meet at 6:20 outside Le Gamin, a French-style indoor cafe on the corner of 9th Avenue and 21st Street. I was wearing my clothes from work — a white button-down shirt and khakis — covered by a peacoat. I’d sent RJ my photos, but I wasn’t sure if I’d mentioned I’d be wearing glasses, so I hoped he’d recognize me.

After work I went into the city and walked over to Ninth Avenue. I hadn’t been west of Eighth Avenue in a few months, so it was nice to be reminded that there are other parts of Chelsea. It was drizzling lightly as I was walking over to the cafe, and my bag was weighed down by a box of resumé paper I’d just bought at Staples. I’m always conscious of being either too late or too early, but I got there around 6:15 and there was a guy standing outside. I wasn’t sure whether he was RJ, so I sat down on a bench. Then the guy said to me, “So you are wearing your glasses…” and I realized it was him. (See, you weren’t late after all that stressing!)

We went inside, picked a table, talked for a while, then finally looked at the menu. This review of the restaurant is pretty accurate, and thus I got to experience RJ’s waiter-summoning skills. I ordered a club sandwich on a baguette and a glass of water, and RJ ordered a crèpe and some peppermint tea, which wound up coming in a bowl. I don’t know if either of us thought the bowl was going to be that big. My sandwich was terrific.

Anyway, we sat and talked for a long time… we discussed our lives, our blogs, other people’s blogs, RJ & Flip. I told him my long coming-out story. This was only the second time in my life I’d used the word “blog” out loud, and I’d forgotten how strange it felt, particularly because there were two women sitting at a table next to us. I wondered if they would think we were talking about alien artifacts or something. (In any conversation, try substituting the word “blog” with some other equally strange word, such as “slarg,” and see if there’s really any change in comprehension.)

Eventually we decided to move on to a bar, so we walked a couple of blocks to Barracuda. We ran into a friend of RJ’s, and then the two of us sat down and had a couple of drinks (or at least I did — two bourbon and Cokes, as they apparently have a two-for-one drink special before 9 p.m.) We talked some more about careers and law and such — I hadn’t realized that RJ had such an interesting resumé! Eventually he had to head off to a previously scheduled weekly event, so we parted ways. I gave him a hug and nearly poked his eye out with my open umbrella.

So, yay! I’ve made a new friend in New York. Thanks, RJ! You’re a really nice guy, and it was a fun evening. From now on, half the time I read East Coast/West Coast I’ll be able to picture the writer. Food was eaten, blogs collided, waiters were harrassed, and the world will never be the same.

And no, Ruthie, he didn’t kill me.