Men I've dated, part n in a series

A couple of days ago, I picked up a copy of Sarah Stolfa's The Regulars, a compilation of portrait-snapshot photos the author took while "she earned the dubious distinction of Unfriendliest Bartender In Town" at McGlinchey's. I'd gone into the bookstore for something else but thought I'd enjoy flipping through the portraits to see if there was anybody I recognized.

To my surprise and delight, I found a photo a guy I'd slept with a few times in the first year after my ex-husband and I split. The photo must have been taken about the time that we were seeing each other -- I don't mean from his expression, which is a little wary and perhaps unhappy, but from what he's wearing, and from the year noted by his name, and from the length of his hair.

Though we didn't meet at McGlinchey's. We'd found each other thru Craigslist, and the first time we met was at the Locust Bar, another, similar dive. On one date, we went to a Sixers game and bought nosebleed seat tickets. I got some kind of vertigo and woke up in the morning with a nasty, nasty headache. On another, we stayed at his place and watched Secretary and he got to try something new. We didn't really click, however; we may have had a third date, but if we did I don't recall it.

One morning some months later, we passed each other on the sidewalk, going opposite directions to work. After that, I started taking a different route, and then I started law school and didn't need to walk down that particular street any more. I haven't seen him since. But apparently I just need to go to McGlinchey's sometime if I want to say hey and catch up.