Interesting Development ...

Or a sign perhaps? We'll see.

I was having a lovely day yesterday. The weather in my city was perfect for a nice Saturday, walking around, laying in the grass, people watching, window shopping kind of day. I decided close to dusk that I really wanted an early evening cocktail and my feet lead me to this little bar/coffee shop in my neighborhood that in the past has provided me with many, many tasty foods and beverages, chief among them the best Tom Collins I've ever had. So, I found a cozy chair, ordered my drink, and settled in with my magazine. The waiter came back to tell me they couldn't make the Tom Collins, so I ordered a Gin Gimlet, my go-to drink.

The fellow sitting next to me got up and left and the guy sitting sort of diagonally across from me got up and took his place. He was reading the latest copy of The Atlantic Monthly and I was reading Harper's. When he sat down I looked over and smiled and he asked me how my magazine was and said he used to subscribe but had to let it go. I said the same and told him that I'd just bought it that day and was thinking of buying the one he was reading, too. From there, the conversation covered such topics as the bike race he'd completed that day, with particular attention being paid to the injury to his leg he'd received ... the drink I was enjoying, the best gimlet I'd ever had ... our mutual love of Harper's and our mutual inability to maintain a subscription without guilt at not reading it cover to cover every month. On the topic of drinks, we talked about other favorites and I mentioned to him that I had this really lovely cocktail called a 'French Martini' once and have since then never, ever been able to locate it to discover the ingredients. Predictably, he removed his iPhone from his pocket and looked it up on a bartending app. There's an app for everything ... it's ridiculous and makes me want to completely head off on a tangent about technology and how it's changing us all slowly but surely into cyborgs but then realize the irony of that tirade given this forum and must restrain and get back to the story. Sorry. Well, surprise, surprise!! He actually found it, asked for my email so he could send it to me, then just handed me the phone to put it in myself. Click. Send. Wait ... what just happened?

The rest of the conversation wasn't very interesting, other than the fact that we discovered that we live a block away from each other ... weird and sort of cool. We paid our checks at the same time and I retreated to the restroom while he rolled outside to meet a friend for some emergency bike repair, not before telling me to keep a lookout for the email. I walked past him on my way out and saw him bent over a girl's bike doing something with the tire.

Fast forward to several hours later: I'm walking down the street with no real destination in mind and I see him and the same friend on their bikes!! I ignored because I was a little in shock at seeing him again (and so soon) so just walked past on my way, pretending (not very well, I'm sure) that I was distracted by something else.

I checked my email later that night and sure enough, there was the drink recipe and his name, which he hadn't given and I didn't ask for. I hesitated for a couple minutes before emailing him back to say thanks and making some cute comment about the article he was reading in his magazine.

Now, here's the thought process: Freckles has been gone for two days. 6 more to go. He's been on my mind for those two days in a good way, I think. And by that I mean I've been thinking about him not obsessing over him, hoping he's having a great time training, just keeping him there in my mind because when I think about him, I smile, meaning that I'm walking around grinning like an idiot. It's wonderful! So, not two days after Freckles heads out of town to train for his race, this guy rolls up telling me that he's just completed a race, and offers to email me a drink recipe.
Questions:
1. Was his offer to email me a roundabout, 21st century, iPhone-y way of getting my contact information without being that cheesy guy who asks for the digits and risks being shot down? i.e. He was expressing interest, right?
2. Is this a test or sign of some kind?

On question 2, my feelings are that things in life happen for a reason. I think I met this fellow because this whole dating process has made me more open to talking with strangers (in a good way ... not in a creepy, shoved into the back of a windowless van way). The whole time though, I was thinking about Freckles. I was thinking that I don't want to see anyone else and was thinking about whether emailing this guy back was a good or bad thing. Am I tempting Fate? Am I unwittingly messing with some sort of cosmic plan? Am I being overdramatic and ridiculous? Maybe. Maybe. And ... YES. I don't feel like I can settle on Freckles jut yet because I don't know that he has settled on me but don't really have the desire to see anyone else. And can we all agree that this guy wasn't just being 'nice' by coming over, interrupting my reading, and striking up a conversation with me? This relates more to question 1, I guess. I am stupid. I haven't been hit on or picked up 'normally' in such a long time that when it happens, if it happens, it's hard for me to identify.

But, I'm rambling. My concern, question, etc. is: if the opportunity presents itself (outside of the online arena ... still staying away from that so Freckles sees that I'm not active) to make plans with someone else for a date, do I go? I'm an eggs in one basket person. I want to settle. As in down, not compromise. The city that I live in is deceptively small ... if I happened to be out and Freckles saw me with someone else, well, that would be tragic in my mind. But it seems foolish at this point to give up the opportunity to at least be open to the possibility of meeting someone else when that person is presented to me.

And one final note on the topic of signs: Freckles just texted me from his trip (literally not two minutes ago, right in the middle of this post being typed) to say that he hoped I was having a good weekend, wondering what I was up to, and telling me he was having a great time. I wrote back. Oh, Freckles ... I just like you soooooo much and can't wait for you to return to my city so I can kiss you, see your face, and hear your cute, quiet little laugh. New guy, well ... we shall see.

As always, comments, concerns, observations, ruminations, are all welcome.