A while back my mother mentioned that this lender she used to work with wanted to introduce me to his younger brother after he met me and was so impressed by my, you know, being a single Jewish female without a wedding ring. But besides the fact that I lived in Los Angeles, I was too young to introduce to his little brother, apparently about thirty. Now that I am a year older and no longer in college I am apparently not too young, and he got to talking to my mother about our City addresses. We are only seven blocks apart, in yuppie SOMA and in-transition SOMA, respectively. He was surprised we hadn't seen each other around, since he was unaware that we are separated by the 3-block stretch that is frightening ghetto SOMA.
Anyway I told her that I wouldn't be against meeting him, but I didn't know she just went ahead and gave him my number. You'd think she could have told me to possibly expect a call.
He left a message while I was showering after test-driving my bike (something fishy going on with the chain). When I called back I got his voicemail.
Looks like my mother has fixed me up with a game of phone tag with a stranger.
Love the way she looks out for me.
He called back half an hour later and we talked for a while, going to meet up later this week. I've never been on a blind date before. Yikes.
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