(Warning! If you haven’t read about my first date with The Bro Next Door, take a minute to catch up here!)
Dating makes me sick.
No, literally, I got sick. It wasn’t strep or mono, but it destroyed my throat and made me miss 3 days of work. I didn’t even get to relax and watch movies or enjoy the time off because I was too busy being miserable and scheduling doctor’s appointments and trying not to pass out.
My first date with The Bro Next Door had been great, but my health suddenly became a priority. I could barely keep my eyes open to text. Despite my lack of responsiveness, he still texted me every day to ask how I was feeling and to offer to bring me anything I wanted. I didn’t take him up on it, but I really appreciated the compassion. It had been 6 days since our first date. Most men would have ghosted!
After taking half a week off of work, I went back on Friday. I felt drained by the time 6pm rolled around. I planned to stop by Whole Foods on my way home and pick up some soup. It was still the only food that wasn’t too painful to consume.
I made my purchase and was starting my car when I looked up and saw The Bro Next Door leaving Whole Foods. I second guessed myself. Was that actually him? Was I delirious from my Advil/Tylenol cocktail? Did I trick myself because I desperately wanted to see him again?
Nope. It was actually him.
I debated driving away. He didn’t see me. He was looking down at his phone. My panic was in full “fight or flight” mode. Despite my sickness, I was dressed up for work and figured it must have been fate for us to bump into each other. At any other time, I would have looked like total garbage!
We were already in the middle of a text conversation so I casually said…
He walked back to the entrance and we hugged. We laughed about what a coincidence it was and talked about our plans for the evening. We realized we both were planning on going home and relaxing. In the most endearingly roundabout way, he invited me over.
I agreed under one circumstance – it had to be a pajama party.
We are all familiar with the concept of Netflix and Chill. Normally I would never agree to an apartment date so early, but I had the perfect defense – my sickness! He was leaving on a trip soon and would probably agree to keep it PG for the sake of his health.
I ran home to drop off the food and change. It’s amazing how a woman can switch clothes, shave her legs, touch up her makeup and be out the door in under 5 minutes.
To be honest, I don’t own “sexy” pajamas. My real pajamas are baggy sweatpants and an old tee shirt, but that’s not cute. I donned some tight yoga pants and my velvet “dopey cat in space” sweatshirt. It was casual but fun.
I drove to his place and we immediately lounged on the couch. We decided to start watching a show we had never seen before. He has HBOGo so we decided on “The Night Of.” I’ve mentioned it before, but he’s of Pakistani descent and we frequently talk about race in Portland and the lack of diversity. He was ecstatic that the main character was Middle Eastern like him. It was cute.
Each episode is 60-90 minutes long, so suddenly two episodes and two hours had passed. We slowly made our way from *awkwardly on opposite sides of the couch* to *snuggling.* It felt so comfortable. It was genuine way to connect without the fuss of getting dressed up and ordering dinner and distracting surroundings.
We started our TV marathon at 7:30 and, in the blink of an eye, the clock read 2:00 am. We had spent 7 hours deep in conversation… with a couple TV episodes in between. I had places to be the following morning so I reluctantly said goodnight. I was still sick, so we didn’t kiss, but it didn’t feel like anything was missing. Our emotional connection was enough.
It wasn’t an official date, so I can’t assign ratings, but I would still give it a 10. Portland is so tiny, but I never run into friends in public. I still believe the universe was pushing us together. If we hadn’t run into each other, we probably wouldn’t have had a date that weekend. Maybe my sickness and recovery would have been *too long* in the scheme of a budding relationship, thus rendering it dead before it had a chance.
I never believed in fate (or genuinely nice guys), but The Bro Next Door was starting to make me reconsider.
(Update: We went on a second date! Read about it here!)