This picture of me was taken ~2000 in the Blue Loon parking lot. It was taken by my good friend Emily on a visit to the 'Banks.
Have you ever been on a blind date? I’ve been on one. It happened way back in 2001 (I think) when I moved back to Alaska. I was living in Anchorage and I didn’t know anyone except my sister and brother-in-law. I was pretty bored. I mean, the family was great, but I needed some friends and at age 24 I wanted to go out. It’s not so fun to indulge in the night life if you’re by yourself. So… I was bemoaning my loneliness to my mother and somehow the news traveled to an old friend of my mom’s who was also living in Anchorage. The result? I was set-up with a young man my mother’s friend worked with. His name was Fritz.
Well, actually that was his nickname, I don’t remember his real first or last name because the encounter was totally anticlimactic. Numbers were passed along and Fritz called one afternoon when I got home from work. He seemed nice enough on the phone and I was sort of impressed that he was willing to meet me. I mean, I would never have the gumption to just call someone out of the blue and say, “Hi. I heard about you. Want to go out?” He did, though. The scenario seemed promising. I learned he was at an entry level job at a large bank in Anchorage and had just returned from a whirlwind European adventure. Cool. I was down to meet. He gave me directions to a coffee house. It all seemed peachy.
Well, turns out the coffee house was off of this weird frontage road that only ran in one direction. I missed the road and then got lost finding my way back. You might wonder: Why didn’t you just call and get directions? Well, this was before every single living, breathing being had a cell phone, so it wasn’t so easy. I had to try and figure things out on my own. I showed up more than half an hour late. When I arrived there was a blonde fellow standing outside the coffee shop. I thought it may be Fritz, but he seemed really young, so I went inside to look around. Nobody inside looked like they were waiting or looked like their name might be Fritz. I went up to the counter and ordered a caramel latte. With coffee in hand, I plopped into a nearby table and contemplated what to do. Should I ask all of the males around if they were Fritz? That would be slightly embarrassing as I moved from table to table. Should I leave? I mean I don’t know if I’d wait after a half an hour. What’s the likelihood this guy would stick around just waiting and waiting? Just as I rose to head back outside to see if Fritz was the blonde dude by the door, in came Fritz. He was the blonde dude. He said, “Amy?”
He sat down and we proceeded to talk. Well, first I gushed with apologies because I really did feel bad that I had almost stood him up. Fritz seemed like a nice guy. I remember we talked about his trip and getting used to driving on the wrong side of the road when he was in the UK. I don’t remember what degree he had just graduated from UAA with, but what does linger is the fact that he seemed so young – teenagerish. The poor guy was just three years younger than me, but that seemed like an eternity in the early 20s domain. He seemed like a baby and although he was cute, I saw him more as a brother. Several ounces into my 16-ounce coffee I knew the chance for romance with Fritz was probably not gonna happen. I wasn’t even sure if we’d see each other again.
After about 45 minutes of chatting, I made up an excuse of why I needed to leave. I can’t remember what it was, but I wanted to zip out to my car and have a smoke, drive away and sorta reflect on whether I could date someone younger than me. You see, going younger has never been my thing. Ever since I was 14, I’ve dated people older than me. I remember, at the time, the idea of dating someone like Fritz made me feel old. Plus, although he was nice and seemed like he had his life together, I just got too much of a goody-goody vibe. Hell, I wanted to party. I liked loud music, dancing and drinking. He seemed like he was totally career-driven (even at 21) and did a lot of reading. Please, don’t misunderstand the 24-year-old Amy. I was into my career. I liked to read, but I needed to date someone more like me. Despite the potential match my mom and her friend thought they were making, I felt that I couldn’t comply. I decided that I wouldn’t call him again right there in my car before I ever even left the coffeehouse. I could even see him in the rearview mirror. I figured, if he called me, I would consider going out with him again. You know, give him a second chance. I didn’t want to be mean, but I wouldn’t be calling him.
Well, I never had the opportunity to decline another meeting. My ego took a blow as days went by and Fritz never called. I was a little upset because I felt rejected and although I had every intention of rejecting him, this sorta stung. I started thinking about the blind date more and more. What was it about me that he didn’t like? These questions spurred a week or two of self examination. I got a little reality check and learned that maybe I wasn’t all that. It was a good lesson to learn. I suppose that’s why all these years later, Fritz and that caramel latte come back to mind. Hmmm.
