A Story About Waiting For My Meet-Cute

When you are single and you hear about how couples met, it seems like everyone, even Donald Trump and Melania, have had a meet-cute but you. He probably saw her going the wrong way through a revolving door and continued spinning through the door as his gaze followed her out the other side. My favorite has always been in Serendipity when John Cusack and Kate Beckinsale each grabbed one glove from the final pair at Bloomingdales as Mr. Bean, the salesman, observed all-knowingly. Even my friend who met her husband at a Japanese restaurant when she drunkenly hit the table too hard while sake bombing and her chopstick flew over to his table has a better story than no story at all.

If all these people have had meet-cutes, mine must be coming, right?

Last Friday as I left work to board a bus to Boston, my boss mentioned his meet-cute. I was less than excited with the prospect of sitting on a bus for four hours until he wished me luck, reminding me that he met his wife on the same bus trip. Waiting at the bus stop, a girl dropped her bag next to him as she yelled into her phone, apparently mid-breakup. He had no idea how to react at the whirlwind that had just spun around him, but they ended up talking for the entire bus ride. Look at them now.

As I dreaded the long ride, his reminder changed my outlook. My meet-cute could happen any moment, even on this bus. I boarded the bus fairly early, and had my choice of seats. I sat in a window seat near the front, as I tend to get carsick. As I watched others board and select their seats, I was stunned by how many young, cute guys were boarding. Was this the magical man bus to Boston? In these situations, I always cross my fingers, first hoping that the man of my dreams sits in the seat next to me before resigning that wish to simply hoping for a small, clean, and quiet person in my neighboring seat.

As I scarfed down pizza before the long ride, I figured nobody would choose the seat next to me. Rule number one of choosing a seat-mate: no food. Against all odds, though, a cute guy stopped at my row and asked if he could join me! I thought to myself, it’s happening… maybe my boss was right!

When these rare situations do occur, and an eligible bachelor actually does sit next to me, the fantasy usually ends there. I don’t ever muster up the courage to talk to him. In this case, though, the mystery man began talking to me!

He was friendly, smart, and intriguing. He was on his way to Boston for an engagement party, so he was a few years older than me. He traveled often to China for business so he must be successful. He joked that he sat next to me because he trusts anyone that eats pizza – so I guess my meal actually helped me!

We talked for almost an hour until the conversation lulled and I pulled out my iPad to watch TV. He, meanwhile, pulled out a handle of whiskey, preparing to meet his friends out when he arrived in Boston. He took a swig and offered it to me. I had no interest in drinking whiskey (I can’t stand the taste!) but we were having fun so I took a sip. My face clearly showed my dissatisfaction but at this point it was nighttime and I don’t think he could see my reaction.

I began watching TV and he continued to drink, occasionally interrupting my show to talk more. At first, I was excited to keep talking, but every time I pressed play on my show he would interrupt again. After a while and a few more swigs of whiskey, he was getting a little too loud for the bus conversation – it seemed like nobody was talking but us. By hour three, I learned that his name was Sebastian, reminding me of an annoying boy I grew up with. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. I had lost all interest and was excited when we finally arrived and I got to escape my tight window seat.

So this was not my meet-cute, and I was disappointed. But of course it wasn’t! This was already someone else’s story. I’ll just have to wait for my own.