match.com

I want to have an adorable story about how I met my significant other. Adorable stories are not: We met at a bar. He sent me a text. He facebooked me, or I dropped him off at Marycrest dormitory after figuring out he was 18. My biggest fear is that someday someone is going to say “You guys are adorable. Where’d you meet?” And I am going to have to respond “match.com.” (I have nothing against match.com as it has provided hours of entertainment, and made one of my friends the "slumdog millionaire matchmaker" of Dayton, Ohio.)

Dear Friends, Please don’t let this happen to me! Love, Karbear.

I’ve decided that I want to meet my future mate doing something I enjoy. I have this fantasy about the produce department of DLM, and a McDreamy looking fellow, age 25-30, who says something like, “You are beautiful, and smart, and know good fruit. Let’s date.” This is fairly unrealistic so I am going to let it go now.

The next place is the gym. Unfortunately, I am not into tattoos and arms the size of my waist, so meeting anyone at Urban Active is out. That was until Brennan didn’t show up to the gym one morning and I took Tyler’s spin class. No one really knows Tyler’s name. He is politely referred to as “hot spin class instructor”. This is usually followed with a “yum”. Ele and I strategically place ourselves on the stair climbers by the track when he is running. I take the stuff that he says during class and I finagle it into a story about his life. He is really into Chipotle and seeing movies. When it snows, he plays video games. There was something about farming that I am still confused about. (I really hope he is not a farmer.) Regardless, in spin class on Monday he took his shirt off. It was a safety hazard. It is easier to fall off a stationary bike than one might think. Maggie, who was the biggest nay sayer, took his class last night and after I said “So Tyler?” and she responded “Ohmygod. His arms!”

I think he and I have taken our gym relationship to a new level. Last night, I walked into class to help Maggie get set up, and he said (with his microphone on) “Hey, you. You’re not allowed to take my class.” Unfortunately, I didn’t hear him. (Brennan told me when we walked out of the room and it would have been awkward to go back in and flirt with him.)

I think this has the makings of a great love story.

How’d you guys meet? Kara was stalking me for 6 months.