#5- The Coffee Date

Ah, the coffee date. It’s such an ambiguous little bugger. You know the routine. You and another person decide to meet at some hip and cool coffee shop to grab a hot drink and “chat”. You spend an hour or so chatting, feeling one another out, asking the usual questions and hoping they have interesting responses, and then you part ways to continue on with your day. It’s only after the coffee date that you even decide if it was a date at all. Were we just friends grabbing coffee? Or was there something behind his knee brushing mine under the table? Yes, the ambiguity of the coffee date makes me nervous indeed, but it doesn’t keep me from going on them.

About two and half weeks ago I came in contact with a guy I went to school with in 8th grade. I had initially introduced myself because I thought he looked cute. He asked me if I had gone to school in Vancouver and I responded that I had. He said, “This is going to be really weird, but we both went to the same middle school. But I only attended for one year in the 8th grade.” I told him I felt bad but that I didn’t remember him (quite unusual for me since I can remember most people from our small school of only 500 people in grades 6-12). He accepted my apology and said that he just remembered me and my friends being the “popular theater kids” and that he hadn’t really become friends with any of us. We caught up for a bit more on what we had done since 8th grade and exchanged numbers, agreeing to grab some coffee later on that week. Right away I was concerned. Were we getting coffee? Or were we interested in one another? I put the thought in the back of my mind and decided it wasn’t important to define what it would beforehand and just go to the coffee shop with an open mind and ready to learn more about one another.

The day of our coffee date rolled around and I sent him a message to make sure we were still on for that afternoon. And I never heard back. No response. No text. Nothing. I’ve never been stood up before (well, not without a bit of forewarning) and so I didn’t really know how to feel or react. Was this some sort of late revenge for not being his friend in 8th grade? Had I done something to offend him back when I was 13 or 14 years old? I searched through my yearbook from 8th grade and couldn’t find anything written from him. I guess we really hadn’t been friends, I thought. I can’t say I was honestly too upset about the missed coffee date though. I had plenty to get done that Sunday afternoon and was kind of relieved I’d have a few extra hours to work. I put the yearbook back in its storage bin and spent the rest of the afternoon working and writing.

A few days later I received a text from him apologizing for not getting a hold of me. He had lost my number and felt really bad because he didn’t know how else to get in touch with me. He couldn’t remember my last name to find me on Facebook, so there was really no other way to get in touch. He asked if we could reschedule for that week, which I of course agreed to.

I arrived at the cute little coffee shop on Main Street in Downtown Vancouver and found him sitting at a table eating a crepe and studying his history book. I grabbed a Chai Tea and sat down across from him. It was a normal coffee date (chatting, observing, asking, and responding) until he said, “I have to apologize for something that happened in 8th grade that you might not even remember. We had one class together and I believe it was geometry with Ms. Ingraham. Do you remember?” I didn’t remember him in the class, but there’s no way I could forget Ms. Ingraham with her extreme feminism and blatant discrimination against me for merely being a male. He continued on to confess, “One time during class you stood up and were talking about how you were running for election to the student body and while you were presenting yourself to the class I made a joke at your expense that everyone laughed at. And even though everyone was laughing, I immediately felt bad for having done so. And I wanted to apologize.” He said that since that moment he had tried to never make a joke again at someone else’s expense.

It was probably the cutest confession I think I’ve ever seen. He seemed so genuine and sincere as he apologized for something that had obviously affected him, even it hadn’t hurt me at all. No wonder he had remembered me after all those years. We spent a few more minutes talking before he had to leave for work, but we agreed to find a time to hang again soon. We hugged and parted ways.

And then the timeless coffee date questions came…what was it that had just happened? Had we gone on a date? Was it just a friendly conversation or was it something more? I couldn’t tell. But, I was ok with it. I had a good time and reconnected with a great guy. It wasn’t important whether or not we were on a date. What was important was that we had made a connection and listened to one another. We had communicated openly and honestly and that made the whole experience worthwhile.