Chemistry is tricky. Most of the time we think of it as an instant attraction. You know, the certain feeling one gets during that first encounter. The “I think I’d like to have sex with you. Maybe not today, but eventually,” sort of vibe.

BUT, that’s chemistry with a small c and there’s no doubt we’ve all experienced it more than once. What I’m talking about is the tricky Chemistry. That’s the feeling of “I think I’d like to have sex with you. Maybe not today, but eventually, and then afterwards I’d like to talk—for hours.”

As you know, I made a decision after a year of online dating to kick it old school. No more cyber-augmented love for me. I also decided I’d keep my love life to myself after that year of over sharing.

Well, I’m going to break that second rule now and tell you about one night in my traditional dating world.

About two months ago a friend and I were having cocktails at a neighborhood bistro.  We both love a perfectly prepared martini and the bartender makes a mean one.

It was a Friday night and we arrived around 7:30pm. The place was packed but we eventually got two seats at the bar. She’s in a committed relationship but is often my wingwoman and we immediately began looking around for eligible men of a certain age—for me.

We both zeroed in on a man seated at the opposite end of the bar.

“Do you see that good looking guy at the end of the bar?”

“Just spotted him,” I replied.

Kind of sounds like hunters preparing to chamber a bullet, right? Here’s why. The guy was the black rhino of single men fifty or older. Extremely good looking, well-dressed, fit, no wedding ring, and confident. I knew he was confident because as I looked at him he boldly looked back, smiled, nodded and raised his glass to me.

I told you about using Cheek’d cards in a previous post. I’d slipped a few into my evening bag that night and my friend and I quickly began looking for the right clever greeting to give to the gorgeous stranger. Let me tell you, I was not going to let him leave without one. As we debated about the selection, the man seated next to me interjected by asking about what we were doing. We’d been there for about thirty minutes by then and I could tell two minutes after we sat down, he wanted to join our conversation.

I also thought he might be interested in me–just a feeling I got–and that feeling wasn’t mutual. He was not my type. At. All. Early to mid-forties, chubby, an expensive but rumpled suit, and hair that was in need of a trim, nothing like the other man I had my sights on but I answered his questions and turned back to my friend. He butted in again and I brushed him off. I was too distracted to even hear what he said because the other man was paying his check and I had to make a move. Grabbing the card I headed over to him and said, “I didn’t want you to leave without this.”

“I was just getting ready to come over and talk to you on my way out. Just waiting to sign the bill.”

Dammit! I could’ve been coy but instead went all Alpha Chick.

“Great, see you soon.”

Back in my seat, the pest next to me asked how it went. My friend was in a conversation with the woman next to her and this time I turned towards him and actually answered. He officially introduced himself, told me his name (Scott) and we chatted for a minute until the perfect man from across the bar walked up. His name, I learned, was Rob.

I introduced my girlfriend to Rob and we turned our stools away from the bar since he was standing behind us. The three of us made small talk but a few minutes in he said something that annoyed me. It was about our new mayor, Bill de Blasio, and it was a typical smartass and uninformed statement from someone less “progressive” and aware than is normal in this city.

“That was a dumb thing to say,” said Scott quietly for my ears only. I turned back towards him and agreed.

“I think he might be Republican,” I sighed and Scott told me that although he worked on Wall Street, he was a liberal Democrat. We started talking politics—both local and national–and he was very knowledgeable.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Forty-five.”

“I’m fifty-two.”

“I would’ve never guessed. I noticed you the moment you walked in and when you sat down next to me I told the bartender to hold off on my to-go order. I am supposed to be bringing dinner to my brother and sister-in-law’s, but then I saw you.”

Ding, ding, ding. Chemistry with a capital C smacked me in the face.

I wasn’t sure I even felt little c with Rob after his stupid remark.

This story is lengthy and gets more interesting as the night wears on.

To be continued…

“The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances: if there is any reaction, both are transformed.” C. G. Jung