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  • Writer's pictureLeah Jones

off to another coffee date.

Lucky for my afternoon date, I am going to hop into the shower and wash my hair before I get on the el. It is my first coffee date–most have been at diners or out for drinks. We are meeting on the steps of the art institute.

I’m trying to get pumped up for it. It is the first in another string of blindish dates. I never know what to call the dates I procure from personal ads on craigslist. I like to say they are blind dates, because people are still more forgiving of needing blind dates than needing to post an ad on the internet.

Guess what? None of my friends have anyone to set me up with, so the internet it is. Let’s recap dating over the last year: In London there was the BlogReader I met Speeddating. From Esquire there was Chip on Shoulder and the Brain Harvester. From Craigslist Ad number one there was Seven Dollars and the Consultant. From Friendster there was Friendster Boy and LaCrosse (who stood me up). From MySpace there was Angry Italian who also stood me up (in my books, not in his.)


Maybe there really is a book hidden between all these dates.

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