Ok, you probably don’t remember this so I’ll jog you’re memory. A while back I attended a wedding of a high school friend that involved beer during the ceremony and a slip-n-slide for the reception. You can read up on it here. There was a guy there in a green polo and white shorts — at least to start out with. By the end of the night, the shirt was gone, the shorts were soaked and he’d picked up a pair of sunglasses with zebra stripes.
Fast forward two and a half months and you now have the Modern Fella.
He’s a college friend of my high school buds, which means we went to the same college, but I didn’t know him at the time. His green shirt caught my eye briefly (because … hello, green!) but I didn’t pay much attention to him at the time because he seemed kind of crazy and someone else had my eye. But as often happens after the photo evidence of a wedding gets posted on Facebook we ended up Facebook friends. Because we share a mutual love for the bar that hosts the ’80s dance parties, I told him I’d be interested in joining him there one night. I think maybe he thought I was hitting on him — which I wasn’t — but if he did, I’m glad.
At that point my previous relationship had ended, which I knew was coming but didn’t want to really acknowledge. I wasn’t in the mood for another round, but the boy was persistent. I gave in. He was cute. He treated me to a lovely dinner one night. We seemed to have a lot in common. And he totally won me over after a night or two of busting some moves to the ’80s tunes** (and let me tell you, the boy can dance … mmmhmm.)
He’s a high school math teacher at an innerish-city school. He’s smart. He can beat me at Scrabble, which I’m embarrassed to admit. He likes to read and watch movies. He has a receding hairline and a smile that melts me. He likes the outdoors. He’s sarcastic and funny. He’s cuddly (he probably doesn’t want you to know that). He likes sports and doesn’t seem intimidated by my sports knowledge. He knows how to enjoy life (and that’s a big one). He’s honest about things that might be hard to be honest about. He treats me like a queen. My mother likes him. My dog likes him. These are all very, very good things.
I’ve yet to have a boring moment with him. We’ve danced ’til 3 a.m. several times over. We’ve hiked a trail in the Smokies. We’ve faced off in a number of his countless board games (he almost always wins). We’ve mastered the art of flirting by text message and Twitter. We walk our dogs, who get along famously. We explore our city on our bikes on an almost nightly basis. We eat, we drink and we’re good at being merry.
Suffice it to say I’m crazy about him. And now you know. Feel free to say hi — he’s been known to lurk around these parts.
**This move is known as The Modern Ex Factor. It’s worked on me every time. A little bit of alcohol + a dance floor with a boy who can dance. The Modern Ex perfected it, and the Modern Fella (unwittingly or not) employed it to perfection.