Just after I had assumed that we would never actually meet, you sent me a message asking to meet for lunch, listing a time and a place. It struck me as somewhat different that our usual back and forth, and it is definitely interesting. I respond with an “Okay, I look forward to it”. “Don’t get too excited, we are just having lunch”. I have it admit, it is a bit confusing, but I want to see you badly enough that I don’t care about the setting.
I show up a few minutes early to a pretty typical lunch restaurant, though it is one I have never been to before and it is far enough away that I don’t worry that anyone I know will be there. Even though I am early, you already messaged me while I was in the parking lot to let me know you were there and to look for the woman in the blue shirt by herself. I quickly see you already at a table and make my way over, my heart racing just at the idea of actually being in the same room as you. You are sitting on one side of a the booth. I would sit across from you, but the chairs are missing, so I slide in next to you. I start to slide up next to you and for a brief moment our legs press against each other, but you quickly slide over to give me more than enough room without having to be pressed against you. I try a couple of more times to casually touch you, your arm or your leg, but you pull away each time and I quickly abandon the effort.