The Russian

Earlier this week I was craving a lamb burger by a pub in Fremont. It’s really phenomenal. I decided to take myself out for it with the plan to sit at the bar and see what happened. I kind of didn’t want to make my evening about the blog but I figured it was a good opportunity. I brought a book along to entertain myself in case there wasn’t anyone to talk to.
I walked in and immediately looked at the bar. There was a cute guy sitting at the end with two seats open next to him. I didn’t want to sit by him for some reason. He kind of looked like an ex or maybe I just wanted to have a different experience. I walked the length of the bar and there wasn’t another seat open. Nuts. I went back down and asked him if anyone was sitting there. I plopped down, placed my order, and opened my book. He was kind of slumped over in his chair a bit and the bartender came and asked him what was wrong. They knew each other. He mentioned being tired so I had to ask, “Why are you so tired”. That started the conversation. Vladi* had just started an intense school program. He also worked at the bar on weekends. We were having a great time talking. I figured he was probably around 28. Young, but again I’m just here for the experience of meeting and dating people. He mentioned his dad was so old. I asked him how old to which he responded 50. Ah…I wouldn’t say that was so old. If that’s old, wait, how old are you? He asked me to guess and I just got the feeling that he was only 21. I was right. I asked the age of his mother. Thirty-nine…a year older than me. Ewww.

I guess the age issue didn’t matter that much since we continued to talk for three hours. I had a great time talking to him. He was really interesting and easy to talk to. In my brave new world of meeting people and asking someone out, I decided to try it out on him. I suggested we go out some time. He enthusiastically responded, “When?” As we started going through our schedules we realized the next two weeks were really busy for both of us with both of us heading out of town. He suggested that we just go out right then, that night. I didn’t have any plans either than curling up on the couch to watch TV so I said ok.
We headed out in the Fremont neighborhood trying to decide between live music or playing pool. He wanted to play me in pool so we headed to the Dubliner pub. It’s the only place I could think of within walking distance that had a pool table. It’s a beat up little bar. It’s a bit like something out of a movie with an incredible cast of quirky characters. We headed into the bar and tried our luck at darts but the machine was broken and neither of us was up for doing darts the old-fashioned way, with math. He decided to talk the pool sharks into letting us play a round of pool against each other instead of putting them through the misery of playing us. They agreed and Vladi quickly beat me at the game.
After that we started talking with two old salty dogs in the bar. One, Jameson* was an Irish boatsman and poet. He was fantastic. He had a thick white beard and white hair and drank his namesake on the rocks. He even recited a poem to me. The other guy engaged in a conversation with Vladi while Jameson and I discussed poetry.
It was a completely unexpected evening and I had a great time. Vladi and I decided to call it a night after a couple of hours at the bar. He had an early morning class. We headed back to our cars, behaved for a short moment like Italians on a city street, and exchanged phone numbers.
Whether or not I ever go out with him again isn’t really the point for me. I took a few chances that night. I went to a bar alone, I asked someone out, and went out with him. It was a great experience and honestly pretty easy. I think there are probably harder things to do and harder situations where you might meet someone and ask them out. I think that’s the next challenge.
If the opportunity arises to go out with Vladi again, I will. I had fun. Is it serious? Hardly. He’s 21. This is about figuring out what works and doesn’t work for me. Although I already knew that dating someone 17 years younger than me isn’t the best match. We’re worlds apart in terms of where we are in our lives and what we want. When I suggested we go out on a Sunday night he asked me, “Who goes out on Sunday”? People who aren’t 21 I guess.

* Names are changed.