Oh no! It happened.

I do not for the life of me remember going on a date with a gentleman who has run into me on the internet. He swears we went to a bar in chelsea, and I didn’t like his beard, but that he only had it because he’s Jewish and wasn’t shaving because of a death in the family. He couldn’t remember why nothing more ever happened, because it was almost 3 years ago, but he asked if it was because of the beard, and I said probably not because that would be silly. He insists that me disliking the beard is the one detail he remembers, and it motivated him to shave it off soon after. I feel terrible, sort of, except I just don’t remember this at all.

There’s something vaguely familiar about him. I don’t doubt for a second that this happened, but I cannot believe how blurry* that first crazy (read: foreign to me) year of dating in New York has become. Oh well, I’ll chalk it up on my first-time-for-everything list, and probably not go on a second date.

*blurry is purely a result of time and circumstance; I do not believe that my memory was impacted in any way at the time!

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