Man #5, New England Newcomer

After a couple of stressful days caused by my Craigslist ad, I was finally set to go on my first Craigslist date.  Sifting through the responses had been arduous, but after narrowing them down to a select few, I was hoping I had made some good choices.  Given the overall tenor of the emails I had received, however, I was still nervous and rightfully so.  There really are a lot of angry, freaky men out there on Craigslist.

But as Man #5 and I walked up from opposite directions to meet in front of Frank’s Oyster House, my fears started to subside.  He instantly seemed like a nice guy.   We arrived just as they were opening for happy hour and we found a spot to sit that was tucked away right by the window.  

Man #5 had just moved out west from Connecticut a month before, and he was in the process of discovering the city.   This made me glad that I had suggested a gem like Frank’s.

We ended up talking about all sorts of things.  We’re both foodies, so we talked about winemaking, home brewing, and our favorite Alton Brown shows on the Food Network.  I mentioned that I love Anthony Bourdain (sarcasm attracts sarcasm) on the Travel Channel, but I can’t watch Andrew Zimmern smack his food.  It drives me crazy.

I am a dog person, and the New England Newcomer is a cat person to which I am allergic.  I love shellfish, to which the Newcomer is allergic, but at least Frank’s has a lot of other choices.  Can you imagine being from New England and being allergic to shellfish?

He asked me about the ‘must-see’ places around the area, and I tried to cover everything from Sol Duc Falls and pools to Cascades Scenic Highway to Mount St. Helens.  He’d probably go up to the top of the Space Needle once, and that would be enough.  He hadn’t really settled on where he wanted to live yet, so he had to go check out the Fremont Troll and the neighborhood and then make his way to Ballard as well as the other neighborhoods of the city.

Somehow we got on the subject of urban chickens and since his parents also had chickens when he was growing up, we talked about everything from the differences between fresh versus store-bought eggs to the fact that I had been forced to butcher a rooster I had mistakenly purchased a year ago. 

Around that time, the Newcomer suggested we order the goat cheese deviled eggs from the menu.  I normally wouldn’t think to order deviled eggs in a restaurant.  I mean, isn’t that what potlucks are for?  But, we discovered that the deviled eggs at Frank’s are surprisingly delightful.  They’re one of those things you put in your mouth, not really expecting too much, and the first bite causes your whole face to brighten with a foodgasmic glow.

I told the Newcomer the story of another rooster that I had, which had been so handsome I couldn’t bring myself to kill it.  Instead, I had placed the only other personal ad I had ever placed on Craigslist previous to the one that had resulted in our date.

It had read…

“Single white-crested, black Polish rooster seeks hens and good home, $20.  Handsome Polish rooster is looking for hens to protect. He’s a lover, not a fighter.  Enjoys afternoon strolls through the garden, alfresco dinners of vegetable scraps, and group dust baths.”

Lucky for the rooster, the next morning I had an email from a farmer on the Peninsula asking, “Is your rooster still available?  I have seven hens who would like to meet him.”

Some personals on Craigslist actually result in happy outcomes, and so, it seemed, had mine.  The New England Newcomer was a perfect gentleman and 3 1/2 hours of conversation had flown by.  By the following morning, we had exchanged emails thanking each other for the date, and he had even include a link to a recipe for goat cheese deviled eggs.

I was happy.  I was now 5% of the way towards my goal, had made a new friend, and thought to myself, “That New England Newcomer…

He’s a good egg.”

Photo here.