There is a point (or many tiny and discrete points) in life, maybe (I can’t speak for everyone), when you realize that you will not be able to get along in a pair with every person, no matter how hard you both (as a pair) try, based on fundamental differences characteristic of the individuals involved in the pair (you plus one other person). One such point occurred in my life on the night prior to this very day. I had been conversing with a gentleman I had not met face-to-face over an app that will remain nameless because I hate it. He seemed fairly bland (describing himself as having “better than average hygiene,” which, I think, is not that important, if you’re cool), but he must have had an interest in me (or at least some unfounded hopefulness) to continue to ask me questions, so I continued to answer his questions out of harmlessness. He asked if we could meet. I said I was busy (and I probably was – with nothing, which is valid). He asked if we could meet again. I figured, why not? I have to eat dinner regardless. He seemed boring though – or, to put it differently: he didn’t seem like my type (I can tell). He seemed like a former student of engineering who did not realize that engineering was boring while he was studying it, and still did not realize it now that he was working in it (I say this as a former student of engineering who realized engineering was boring while I was studying it, and now do not work in it).
I asked him if I would have to act like a grown up when we met, and he told me: only if you want to. So I decided I probably wouldn’t act like a grown up, and we agreed to meet at a time and a place, and this time was over two hours from when I get home from work. So I figured (innocently, I thought): I’ll grab a beer beforehand (as I am sometimes wont to do after a day at work), to take the edge off of what might (with some pre-calculated probability) be a lackluster encounter. I got a beer, and it was a strong one, but it was just a beer after a day at work. He messaged me (still via app) and said he was on his way to our predetermined meeting location. I said, cool, I am getting drunk first (an exaggerated response from someone one beer in, who has a penchant for hyperbole). He responds, rather quickly: seriously? I knew then, with a laugh, immediately upon reading, that not only was he likely boring, but he was also kind of sort of overly judgmental. I said I’d go home then, and he told me to have fun with that, and we both lived happily ever after having never met each other, because it never would have worked out for the two of us anyways.