Friday, October 31, 2014

Oct 30 - Will the real story please stand up?

Well, as I'm sure you could have predicted, I certainly couldn't let you all think that the Cool Joe tale you read last night was the actual story of how Dorian and I met. Therefore, allow me to set the record straight. I present to you Sonia's story (aka the real story) of the fateful night I met the biking birder:

As you now know, it was the night of Game 5 in the 2008 World Series. As Dorian said, I'm a baseball fan so I really wanted to watch the completion this game. Since my roommate was spread out on the couch at my apartment watching a Romantic Comedy, I was forced (what a pity) to go to the local pub where I knew the game would be on. When I arrived, I bellied up to the bar and settled in for a couple hours of baseball watching. Sitting next to me was an middle aged man. He was super nice and I enjoyed exchanging pleasantries in between pitches. This carried on for some time until I finally went to the bathroom (TMI alert: I have a ridiculously large bladder so it takes several pints before a nature break is necessary). When I returned from the bathroom I walked back to my seat to find that this "super nice" gentleman had intentionally removed himself from the seat next to me and chose another seat that was completely at the opposite end of the bar. I looked over in a bit of confusion. "What did I do?", I thought. I must have either said something to offend him or I maybe I had really bad BO. <Quick armit sniff>. Nope. Ok, I must have offended him. Oh well, back to the game.

What happened next is a tale to which most women in any bar can relate. One guy leaves a bar seat next to you and another slithers over. And this guy?!... Oh boy. This guy had an afro about a foot in diameter and 4 empty pint glassed in front of him with 2 more on the way. Even more hysterical? He was trying to tell me that he was a scientist!! Hahahahaha! Oh brother, now I had heard it all. 

The evening carried on as an evening at a bar typically does. His 4 pints turned into 10 and my 2 pints turned into 4 (alright...5). Perhaps it was the additional pints, but this crazy afro guy turned out to be a rather entertaining bar mate. We exchanged a lot of laughs and some jabs at each other's hockey teams. Since I was recovering from a 6 month disastrous stint with, I really didn't have any interest in deep conversations or long walks on the beach with any guy. Therefore, this harmless exchange with Afro man was just fine with me. He was a bit of a spaz and when he asked me for my name I had to yell it out like 18 times. "Sophia?" "Silvia?"! "Shaquanda???"....ok, that was funny. Eventually he figured out that I was Sonia.

The game ended and the Phillies won. I high fived my bar stool neighbor who was obviously very excited. When he took to the street for a celebratory cigarette, I closed my tab and walked out. As I was leaving, I high fived him again and then turned left toward home. When I was about 2 blocks away, I heard the sound of someone running up behind me. Seriously, they were right behind me. I grabbed my purse with one hand and then quickly turned around to face my attacker. When I turned, I saw the Afro man slightly out of breath and mumbling something about "you seem really nice. I think you are fun. Do you like Cheetos?" and other such nonsense. At some point he asked me if he could have my number. I hesitated for a moment but then eventually thought "what the hell." If I survived the dates with a jobless stoner and the creepy stalker guy, I could obviously stomach hanging out for a few more hours with this fake scientist dude. So, I started to give him my number: 

Awkward moment when Fake Scientist
asked for my number

Me: "Sure, my number is 5-6-2..."
Fake Scientist (with flip phone in hand): "5-6-2"
Me: "6-8-6..."
Fake Scientist: "Ummm... 562? Waaaaaiiit, are you giving me a fake number???"

HAHAHAHAHA! Spoken like a guy who must have experienced that before. I assured him that I was, in fact, giving him my real number and that the 562 area code was from my hometown in CA. After giving him my full number we said our goodbyes once again and he promised to call in 3 days. 

"Ok, Dorian. It was nice to meet you."

Truthfully I thought this would end the same way most bar exchanges do and I figured I would never hear from the guy again. When he didn't call for 7 days*, my suspicions were confirmed.

*ok, it really wasn't 7 days. I give him a hard time about that. It was at least 4, though. However, the next day he did send me a cute text that said something along the lines of:

"When I woke up this morning, I was hoping that 3 things were still true: 
1) The Phillies are still the World Champions; 
2) You can actually skate as well as you converse and 
3) You are as beautiful as I remember you"

I responded with a picture of the front of the NY Times declaring the Phillies World Series Champs and said "well, at least one is". ........ugh, gross. Ok, cheese alert. And to think I rolled my eyes when I saw my roommate watching the RomCom.

Anyway, so began the 6 year journey with the afro guy who turned out to be a real scientist. And as Dorian mentioned in his post yesterday, it was pretty incredible to find out that for the 6 years prior to our meeting, we had essentially lived less than half a mile from each other in two totally different cities. He likely came into Grafton Street, the bar where I worked. On Tuesday nights we hosted free apps for obnoxious Harvard kids who thought they were better than everyone else. Guaranteed if I met him then, I probably rolled my eyes and walked away. But isn't it crazy to think just how small the world is sometimes?!

Where we lived in Boston 
from 2002 (ish)-2004 

Where we lived in NYC
from 2004 (ish)-2008
The star shows the bar location.

All joking aside, the past 6 years have been filled with so much joy, adventure, love and laughter. We have had some incredible highs and some devastating lows; through it all I honestly wake up every day ever so grateful that on Oct 29, 2008 my roommate was watching TV and I was forced to watch a baseball game at a bar.

I love you Dorian. crazy adorable bird-watching, DJ playing, afro-scientist bicyclist. Here's to 60 more.

In honor of Halloween, I thought I'd share some fun pics...     

Halloween 2009
Dressed as "Swine Flu"

Halloween 2012
Dressed as Hurricane Sandy
(prior to knowing the damage it would really cause)

Fall 2013. 
Because Dorian will never make
this face again if I make this photo public.


  1. This seems way more legit. ;) great perspectives by both of you :)

  2. Yo, yo, yo Sonia, in Dorian's story e talks about havin da smoke in front hof da bar, but neva says whetha it's da cigarette or da gange. I fink we can read betweun da lines on dis one!

  3. Yep, no doubt in my mind that is the real story. D-Train DERAILED!