I Have a Boyfriend and Life is Good

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We met the old fashioned way: in person, through a mutual friend who introduced us at a cocktail party that was taking place at our local art gallery.

Although he says he first remembers seeing me lurking by the coat check area, I only remember the moment we met.

One thing you need to understand, is that like many laid back locales on the West Coast, my hometown isn’t exactly known for it’s well dressed male population. In fact, between the masses of conservative buttoned up government workers and the slew of prototypical west coast dudes who live in hoodies (and who I suspect have never worn socks or owned a pair of full length pants) this city is often referred to as a place “where men’s fashion goes to die” (this phenomena was even covered on the local news!)

When he walked into my life wearing pink pants, a tailored suit jacket, with an earful of piercings, my initial thought was  “Where the hell did this guy come from?!”

I was instantly drawn to him and we bonded quickly over our mutual love of Jill Scott and Ballet (me – from having danced for 18 years, him – from having worked as a publicist for a famous ballet dancer.)

As I was sitting on a step, enjoying a cocktail with my friend he told me,

“Sitting there like that, you look very much like Heather Sweet. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

(I learned a few seconds later that Heather Sweet is the given name of Dita Von Teese. Colour me flattered.)

With his shaved head, dark eyes and sexy facial scruff, I thought he looked like a cross between Andre Agassi and Jason Statham. Think: Russian athlete meets action hero/character from James Bond. (as I’d later discover, we are both Eastern European mutts.)

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Cocktails at the art gallery lead to more cocktails at a lounge downtown.

I didn’t have any inkling that he liked me until we were ready to head home and my friend suggested we go to Burger King.

When we got to the restaurant, he asked me if I wanted anything.

I told him that I don’t really like Burger King; that I only like the Filet o’Fish from McDonalds.

“Do you want me to go get you one?” he asked.

So, while I stayed in our sticky Burger King booth with my friend, her boyfriend and a plate of poutine; he braved the throngs of drunks and teen meth heads at the sketchy McDonalds down the street. When he returned a few minutes later, proudly clutching my favourite fish sandwich, I knew that I indisputably liked him.

We now joke that,  “you had me at Filet o’ Fish.

Earlier that night we had exchanged business cards. When I woke up the next morning, the first thing I did was email him.

I sent him a short message thanking him for the Filet o’Fish and he sent me back the most romantic email I have ever received, which ended with him asking me out.

A week later, we went on our first date at my favourite wine bar. Throughout the date I noticed myself turning my chair so I could get closer to him at the bar. When I got up to use the washroom, he handed me this handwritten note.

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It was one of the best first dates I’ve ever been on & we’ve been together ever since.

It’s been almost three months now – three really great, amazing months. I’ve resisted writing this post because it’s hard to distill (and do justice) all of my favourite moments from the past 90 days – there are just too many.

There was the first morning I woke up at his house, looked over and asked him what he was doing on his phone and he replied, “I’m buying us tickets to go see Erykah Badu in June.”

There was the moment after I introduced him to my best friend and I told her, “he just intuitively knows how to be with me.”

There was also the time when he bought Joe the Intern and Hammer a set of top-hats (among other things.)

His burgeoning bromance with Joe the Intern makes me smile everyday, because it shows that he really gets me – blog, “interns” and all. In return, I like to make him Filet o’ Fish themed art work, which is not very good, but that he seems to love anyways.

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(Also, he helped dispose of the iRide, which if you read that post you know was no easy feat.)

For the purpose of this blog, I’m going to call him My Secret Agent – partly as an ode to a character from one of my favourite books, Weetzie Bat by Francesca Lia Block; but also because he seemingly appeared out of nowhere and always makes me feel safe and protected in his presence.

It’s funny how you don’t realize what specifically is missing from your life until it arrives. In my case it was someone who is kind and thoughtful, and accepts me exactly as I am. The influx of romance and handwritten notes also doesn’t hurt.

I don’t know how to end this post because unlike previous dating posts there isn’t an ending. When it comes to the Secret Agent, it feels as though we’re just beginning our adventure together. So, just know that things are good, I’m happy and me & Joe the Intern give this guy an enthusiastic two thumbs up. It’s about time.

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