Here’s what I knew going into my first ever date:  After a few nice emails, I had enough info to check him out online. I found enough to know that he could potentially be an interesting person. I also knew from his profile that he’s never been married. In a phone call with no spark, I got the impression he was lackluster; he fit my stereotype of an overgrown Long Island boy who never quite got it together and whose identity now is NY cynic and trivia buff.

When he texted to follow up on our phone call, I decided to meet him and see what he was like in person. I almost cancelled due to weather, but my friends convinced me to push through. They were right, and I’m glad I did. (Don’t get too excited.)

I arrived early to a coffee place that was pretty cool, though way too crowded. Found a place to park myself and read on my kindle until he arrived. I held onto two seats (not without effort) while he got us coffee. By the time he sat with me, I knew I could leave at any point. Two things stood out; black walking shoe type sneakers with white laces, and non-stop nail biting.

He was totally nice enough, but my first impressions on the phone were correct. His list of interests is comprised of NY sports teams and the big three tv shows (Seinfeld, Entourage, and Curb). There was no story, not even some snappy conversation. After an hour and a half or so, I suggested getting out of the small space, and we parted with a handshake.

So, why am I glad I went? Because I read him correctly from the beginning, and this reinforced trust in my instincts. There have been some odd online dating connections, some that vaporized before there was any real contact, one I had to break up with before ever meeting him, and one that was clearly a dangerous crazy. I’m glad I went out for a nice cup of coffee with a nice, regular guy…my first ever date.