27. With two Ds

After a month of back-and-forth messages on the site, I learned that his name was Addam (yes, with two Ds), he's from Michigan, and he lives with his younger brother by the airport. On New Years Eve, he finally asked if I wanted to meet him for lunch.
I emailed my coworker Stephanie, who was also my new roommate (Yes, I finally moved out of mom and dad's!).
"Come over here, quick."
Her cubicle was just one row away, so she was at my desk in seconds.
"What's going on?" She asked, intrigued.
"Look at this," I said as I highlighted the words, "Any chance you'd want to meet for lunch?" on my screen.
"Oh my god! Like, right now? Today?" She asked.
I nodded.
"What are you going to do? I mean, are you even dressed cute enough?"
I guess that meant she didn't think so. True, I hadn't bothered with contacts that morning, so I was rocking my black-framed glasses. I looked down at my jeans and choice of shoes: knee-high gray boots with a 3-inch heel. Uh-oh, what if he was a little guy? Those boots would put me at 5'11" and I couldn't exactly tell how tall he was from his photo. I tried to remember if I had an extra pair of flats in my car.
"Better he see me like this than all dolled up. That way, if he's not interested, well, then he's an asshole."
She gave me a look that said "You shouldn't do this, but I know you're going to do it anyway."
I hit reply and said, "Sure, why not?"
We agreed to meet at 1:00 in the courtyard of my office building, and then choose a lunch spot from there. At 12:55 I walked down to the bathroom and put on a fresh coat of lipgloss. I flipped my head upside down and ran my fingers through my hair to give it a little more volume. Well, here goes nothing.
In the elevator on the way down I had a mini panic attack. I realized that
A. He could be a mass murderer who plans on killing me, chopping me up into pieces, and eating me for lunch
B. He might look nothing like that adorably sexy picture on his profile
C. He might think I look nothing like my profile picture, which is a grand possibility considering my hair is straightened in that picture and I was sans glasses
As the elevator doors opened, I almost couldn't step out. My hands were shaking, my legs felt numb, and my boots suddenly felt like they were 7 inches high. "Lock it up, Whitney!" I said to myself as I stepped out.
My phone rang as I stepped into the courtyard.
"Hi, Whitney. It's Addam. I just parked in the visitor's parking lot. Am I in the right spot?" His voice was different than I was expecting. A little less douchey.
"Yeah, hang tight, I'll be there in a second." The courtyard was attached to the visitors' lot, and through it, I could see a man standing in the lot with his phone to his ear. Was that him? As I got closer, I hoped not. He looked like he was 45 with a slight balding problem. I went to turn around to run before he could see me when I heard, "Whitney?"
It wasn't coming from Old Man Balding's mouth. I turned to see what had to be Addam, a medium-height guy with his brown hair hidden in a baseball hat, his hands hidden in the pockets of his blue zip-up hoodie. He looked almost shy as he made eye contact with me from underneath the bill of his hat.
"Addam?"
He smiled and then I was sure it was him. Those dimples, those perfectly straight teeth, that sexy boyish face.
"Nice to meet you," I said as I walked closer and held out my hand me meet his. I immediately regretted the 3-inch heels. I might have had him by an inch.
"Wow, you're tall." He said as he shook my hand, smiling. But was he really thinking, "Shit, she's a wildabeast! Run for the hills!"?
"Yes, tall and starving, now let's eat." Great, now he probably thought I was a fatty, too. One of the first things out of my mouth just had to be food-related, didn't it? Now he probably thought I was going to be the one to eat him.
We walked through the courtyard to a sports bar on the first floor of my office building. I'd never been there for lunch, but hoped it would be quiet enough during the day. That's when I was quickly reminded that the Sunbowl was televised, so the bar was jam-packed with excited Sooner fans. I should have picked a new bar, but now I kind of wanted to sneak a few peeks at the game.
Minutes after we sat down I forgot about the game. His eyes were just so fun to look at, and his laugh was adorable. We ordered two beers. When the waitress asked what he wanted to eat, he said, "The BBQ chicken sandwich. No vegetables, and no onions."
"Umm, an onion is a vegetable," the waitress replied with a smart-ass smirk.
"I know, but I really hate onions."
What a coincidence. I hate onions, too.
We talked about my job, because he had so many questions about it. How did I end up with a job like that? Why did I leave NYC, and why did I live in Texas? The last of which was astonishing to him. He couldn't understand why anyone would choose to live in Texas. I asked him about his job, because I actually had no idea what being an air traffic controller entails.
Our food came, and our beers were empty. He ordered another round.
Then he started laughing. I could fall in love with a laugh like that. "Look at this," he said, as he pulled the bun off his sandwich. Sitting there on top of the chicken and coated with BBQ sauce were a shit-ton of onions.
He said he was surprised I wanted to meet him, because he thought I was just on the site doing research. Let's be really honest, that story required very little research. I asked him why he was on the site."
"Half the guys I work with are old men, and the other half are gay. I live with my brother who's only 20, so he can't even be my wingman at the bars. It's impossible to meet people here. I didn't think I'd really meet anyone on there, but here we are."
We talked about how he was in the Navy for six years and had served in Iraq. This made me think of Cayden. They were the same age and had both served their countries for the exact same amount of time. I tried to push Cayden out of my head, which wasn't too hard when looking at the adorable boy in front of me.