My Friend Bob

Red Zone

Each Tuesday, I play trivia at a local pub. It’s fun, and our team is filled with a mix of people that allows us to win fairly often: all are college-educated (not that the degrees help… but the diverse backgrounds provide a broad knowledge-base), three live in the exact vicinity, so they know the local questions, one is a sports nut, two are political junkies, two speak foreign languages and love linguistics, at least one is a fucking genius, two are into the same type of music as the host… you get the picture.

After 2 months and over 200 substantive messages exchanged on OkCupid, Tapman mentioned that he had a friend who played trivia at the establishment where I play. On the next Tuesday his friend played, Tapman was going to meet him there and play on his team. I suggested he say hi to me when did.

Another week passed with daily messages that far more than scratched the surface. I learned that he rarely drank, but liked cider, which threw me a bit because of his chosen online name. His separation was discussed stoically; she had fallen in love with another man. He didn’t hate her or him, and the separation was going amicably. I liked the way he discussed the loss of her affection without rancor and the way he continued to speak respectfully of her. He’s fit… really he’s a total hard body. As a result, many of our messages described the day’s workouts, but he also likes to be socially active. This guy was becoming a friend before I even met him.

He recently separated, which is usually a red flag indicating a guy who is chasing booty, but surely no one spends 2 months exchanging messages, in the hopes of a piece of ass, right?

During this final week of exchanges, I tried to figure out who Tapman’s friend could be. His name was Bob, and he was tall. His team usually won. I’m short, so tall is a relative term, but I mentally stacked up the “tall” male players from the team who on occasion gave us a run for out money. Not a soul on the team topped 5’6”.

“No way!” I called foul. Tapman insisted, “Bob’s team wins most of the time.” “That isn’t true,” I countered. My team was in the sixth week of a winning streak. I decided to drop the discussion. After all, I hadn’t even met the guy, and despite wonderful conversations, he could still turn out to be a troll, and well… my standards are well above the troll bar.

Tuesday arrived, and Tapman was to meet Bob at trivia. I drove two of my teammates, and my friend Rob pulled in right behind us. We entered together. I was second in line, and saw Tapman stand from the bar to walk toward us. Two thumbs up… he looks like his photos. I walked over, shook his hand and said hi…as he waved to Rob, and said, “Hi Bob.” CLICK!  And Doh!

 

 

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