The Architect Part 2 – Survived by Tara

WHO: The Architect turned Torah-Dad. To be explained later.

WHAT: Meet Cute! Real life!

WHEN: A few years ago.

Where: On the bus on my way to work.

Why: So if you’re just tuning in, I’ve drunkenly gone home with a 21 year old that I met on a bus (see The Architect post from last week). When I write it out like that, I realize what an awful life choice I made. We’re going to fast forward to the next morning.

THE DATE
I bolt upright in bed and realize I have no idea where I am. I look around and try to get my bearings. I suddenly remember with a doomed feeling that I just slept with a 21 year old. I also realllllly have to pee. I throw on the first thing I find on the floor, my shirt and undies. I tiptoe out the door and down the hall, quietly opening doors and cursing every time I find a closet. Finally I find the bathroom, pee, and talk myself down out of the hysteria that comes from sleeping with a guy born in the 90’s. I fix my hair and open the door, and run smack into someone.

Me: “Oh! Uh, sorry. I’m terribly clumsy early in the morning.”
Tall guy: “Uh sorry. Who are you?”
Me: “Oh! I’m Tara.” I pull my shirt down over my undies, suddenly realizing that I’m not all that covered.
Tall guy: “DUDE! ARE YOU BUS GIRL?!!!!”
Me: “Sorry?”
Tall guy: “YOU ARE TOTALLY BUS GIRL! You are way hotter than he described you.”
Me: “Oh, uh thanks? I’m gonna go… uh nice meeting you?”

I run back down the hall and the Architect is awake.

Me: “Oh, hi. I met your roommate.”
Him: “Oh fuck. He’s a total douche. I’m sorry. I’ll be right back.”

He leaves, I hear whispering, and Architect comes back in.

Me: “Well thanks for last night, I’m gonna go.”
Him: “You aren’t still being weird about the whole age thing are you?”
Me, totally being weirded out by the age thing: “Oh! No, over it. I just have to go to work.”
Him: “Let me take you out to dinner. How’s tomorrow? I’ll pick you up at your work.”

I look around his room and see Beatles records and framed pictures of faraway places. I decide that I need to ignore the age thing and say yes.

Me: “Okay. tomorrow.” I grab my things and bolt out the door.

I’m telling my coworker, Cantwell, about the Architect the next day as we’re closing the store. As he’ s yelling at me to stop stressing over the age thing and get over it, the Architect walks in. I introduce him to Cantwell and leave them to chat as I grab my stuff to lock up. I’m turning out the lights when I hear Cantwell shriek, “YOU’RE TORAHDAD69?!!! TARA!!!!! OH MY GOD COME HERE RIGHT NOW”

Cantwell: “Remember I was telling you about my roommate who got matched up with Torahdad69 on OKcupid? And how she messaged him because it was such a random name and she had to know why someone would pick it?! THIS IS HIM!!!! You’ve been the best inside joke between me and my friends for like months! So, Torahdad69, tell me why you picked the name.”
Architect turned Torahdad69: “Um, well I’m Jewish and my friends all think I act like a Dad and I just picked a random number. Tara, you wanna get going?”
Me: “Um… right. Cantwell, I’ll talk to you later.”
Cantwell: “I can’t wait to tell my roommate I met Torahdad69. This is the best story ever.”

We walk in silence on the way to the restaurant. I’m not sure how I’m feeling. I’m still weirded out by the age thing, and now that I know Cantwell is on the phone laughing with his roommate about him, I’m ashamed to admit that I’m totally over it. The whole situation. Gone is the hot guy that threw me against the wall in the bar. The only thing I see now is a 21 year old “dad” and I can’t imagine ever kissing him again.

We have dinner and I pay because I’m feeling bad that I’m about to tell this kid, I mean guy, that I’m not interested. I’m mustering up the courage to break it off gently when he says, “So, I did some research. I googled Alf and watched a few episodes of MacGyver. And I have to say, both are terribly shitty shows. There is no way Macgyver could have done any of that with a bobby pin. I call bullshit. And Alf?! What kind of creature is it? I don’t understand. I much prefer MacGruber.”

Oh hellllll no. No one insults Macgyver. Ever.

Me: “Well, this has been an educational few days. Happy belated birthday and please don’t call me again. This obviously isn’t going to work out. I have to go be anywhere other than here. Um, okay thanks bye.”

Flash forward to today in 2015. I’m walking to my car after brunch and I’m digging around my bag to find my keys. I drop my purse and my water bottle rolls out. It rolls down the street and gets picked up by a guy in a sweater vest, glasses, and messenger bag.

Me: “Oh thanks!” I reach for the bottle.
Him: “You’re welcome. Wait. Do I know you?”
Me, staring at him: “Ummmm maybe?”
Him: “Yeah, you look really familiar.”
Me: “Oh shit. SHIT. You’re Torahdad69!”
Him, sighing” That was a terrible online life choice I made. I remember you! Are you still into role playing?”
Me: “Sorry, no that wasn’t me. We met on a bus and went out after your 21st birthday.”
Him: “Hmm, really? That chick was a hot mad-men curvy brunette.”
Me: “Yeah, that was me.”
Him: “No, that woman had a huge ass. Don’t get me wrong, you’re cute, but I remember her butt.”
Me: “Right, that ass is still behind me. Hasn’t changed. I’m gonna go. Glad to see you grew the fuck up.”
Him: “Hey are you single?”