Hobos vs. Bums

To my surprise we continued talking [emailing], and she said she had a great time. I have to wonder if it is weird that our primary mode of conversation is via email. Is this the sign of the new generation? Online dating and missed connections using craigslist to avoid any kind of actual contact and rejection?

Hey... fine by me. My Onion Personals profile is still running strong.

Sambas is pretty great. We email each other random things; hers often dealing with art and mine mostly dealing with ridiculousness- Horse head man cooking wild mushrooms anyone?

Some days past and she lets me know about a documentary screening about hobo graffiti is happening in Brooklyn. Rumor is that there will be wine and cookies present. This is definitely not something I would ordinarily go to but it seems like a great event for a second meet [date?].

We meet at a mutual train stop and walk over to the screening. It is absolutely freezing out and I am so happy I wore thermal underwear. We both still have a cough and I get a flashback to my previous kissing dilemma.

We get inside and sit on padded benches. The room is pretty small and fills up quickly, forcing us to fit three people on a two-person seat. I grab some wine, popcorn, and cornbread (nice combo i know?) and sit. After a brief into, the movie starts.

The movie is shot on a vintage camera and has some beautiful shots from moving trains. The content is moderately interesting but drags on. At least I learned that one should not call a "Hobo" a "Bum" unless they want a toothless man all in their face. Luckily, since the movie was rather slow, it allowed for one of my favorite things to happen: She put her head on my shoulder. I feel like this small gesture shows that she is comfortable with me and perhaps affectionate. Or is this friend zone affection? Shit

The movie finished (thankfully for my back's sake) and after a brief round of questions and some whiskey spiked apple cider, we were free to roam the premesis. We ventured outside for 10 minutes to check out the bonfire. F that. It was freezing. People dwindled out and jazz played on a laptop. The lights were dim and we continued our conversation.

It seemed like a perfect time for a kiss, but there were people walking in and out so I didn't go for it. And soon, it seemed like the right time to leave [whiskey and cider were gone]. The cold was just as unforgiving as before and we looked for the closest restaurant to unwind and eat. I ordered the grilled cheese, and she the chicken noodle soup. People have asked if I have a problem with her not being a vegetarian, but I think most of the girls I have dated have not been vegetarians. Besides, she says she has long considered the dietary change, and maybe I could help with that? Most definitely.

After the bill, the night has ended once again and we walk underground and prepare to go our separate ways. It is a less than ideal situation for a first kiss, but I can't keep postponing it. "So..." I say as I inch closer to her. I slowly lean in and watch her body movement. Our mouths are inches apart but she slowly edges towards the side of my cheek with her face and says she doesn't want to get me sick. I whisper "I am not worried. My immune system rocks." We bring our faces back to proper alignment and let our lips linger barely touching. We kiss slowly, pause, and kiss again. I pull back and look at her, lean in and kiss her again. "Time to go to our trains" I say, and we turn and go in opposite directions.

I wonder if I should look back but I don't. That seems a bit too movie oriented.

I feel like everything went right. I get home, prepare for bed, and sleep comfortably. In the morning I check my email and see one from Sambas.

"Oh, [me]. le sigh." What the hell does that mean?!