Infectious disease didn't have an infectious disease until after the date.
After all these awkward dates, I needed a sure thing.
Flashback to April 2006.
He looks good on paper. Met him a few days before. Dropped a quick email the next morning saying hey... which does wonders for a girl's self esteem. He's quick witted. Able to dish out as much (if not slightly more) as I am giving him. Impressive. He can keep up mentally. Put a check mark in his plus column. Back and forth with the email. Perhaps we'll see each other Thursday, maybe we should car pool, let's meet after work. Pause.
We meet up in Frisco, he brings me hot tea. He suggests we ride together to his place and carpool from there. Okay.
So in the house. I make mental notes as I get the official tour. Furniture matches, although obviously man furniture. Hardwood floors. Nice patio. Very clean. Organized. Duke MBA (like I wouldn't notice that). Great artwork. Cross above the bed (Catholic?). And then my mind wanders... He seems to add up to such a nice piece of man... so what is wrong? Could it be that he intimidate women with his nice clean home or his education or any number of things that I am finding intimidating... Could it be that when he talks in person and not via email he is socially inept... possible. Could it be that he has six toes on his left foot... who knows.
Back in 2009, I decide to call infectious disease. I mean, my blog paints him out to be a pretty decent catch and he's still on the market. This must bode well. I've kissed him before, so there's no pressure there. Well a little pressure maybe.
Sometimes infectious disease and I have great chemistry, some times not so much. Sometimes I want to kiss him like a high school girl while we lean against my car outside fireside pies. Sometimes I want him to take his stupid Transformers dvd and get out of my apartment. I tell myself to shake it off. I haven't seen him in ages (since the Transformers incident as I have come to call it).
So he meets me at the Stars game. Still cute? Yes.
We sit. We watch hockey. We flirt. We drink a few beers. I cough. He asks if I'm feeling okay. I tell him I think so, probably just allergies. He doesn't kiss me. He's afraid I'm sick. I tell him I'm not. We both know I'm lying.
Two days later I wake up in a cold sweat. My sheets are all wet from the sweat. I'm dizzy. I try to get up to go to the bathroom. I fall. I vomit. I have the flu.
Sadly, so did he. Hence, infectious disease.
But what have we learned from all this?
#1. It's okay to reread a book, especially since now you can skip to the parts you like.
#2. You might as well kiss me if you want to. Even if you don't, I still might give you the flu. And isn't it better to get it from making out than from sharing a few fries?