A few months ago Denise, my sister/one of my best friends, called me. “I was catching up on your blog today. Who is this ‘Mike Lowery’ character that keeps commenting on your posts?” she asked.

“I have NO idea!” I replied laughing, “he always comments and I cant tell if he hates me or if he’s just trying to give me a dose of reality.” We went back and forth about him for a while and then the conversation switched to other things. I didn’t think much more about Mike Lowrey until last week when I gave him a shout out at the end of my series on When A Man Gives You His Business Card. When I told Mike Lowrey to email me in that post, it wasn’t for anything in particular. I simply found it fascinating that a straight man would comment regularly and with such gusto on a blog about a Plus Size Princess.

A few days later I got an email in my inbox:

I thought my comments on your blog just annoyed everyone, lol. I’m glad to hear that my comments didn’t fall upon deaf ears so to speak. I think you’re an interesting young lady and I enjoy your writing style. Me…fascinating?? Thanks for the compliment. (Awww shucks Miss, after a compliment like that…I’m here at work with a Kool-Aid smile.)

Were you born in NY?

If I thought Mike Lowrey was “fascinating” before, his email intrigued me even more. (Quick Dating Tip: When talking to someone for the first time, especially via email, I always feel like ending with a question is a good way to move a conversation along and show interest in the other person). Mr. Lowrey was using one of my old tricks! I responded immediately:

Your comments don’t annoy me and they definitely do not fall on deaf ears. I’m originally from California… I moved to NYC for school.

Where are you from? Where do you live?

He responded pretty quickly and throughout the day, we continued to email back and forth. It was casual conversation, I learned that he grew up in New York City but moved out of state for work two years ago. Our conversations weren’t deep, but they were probing. We were both asking questions about the other person and I could feel an energy coming from our writing that said there was more beneath the surface.

That evening I had to attend an event. Although it was an open bar, I wasn’t really having a good time. I found myself in a corner emailing Mike from my iPhone. My email began like this:

I’m at a cocktail hour and while the drinks are good, the conversation is stale. I shouldn’t be emailing you, but… I am!

He responded:

I’m glad you did email me.
I must admit that I’ve been checking my phone every 20 minutes hoping to see an email from you. I’ll be in NYC Thursday night. Would it be too forward if I asked to meet you for happy hour next Friday? I would love to put a face to the person if you’re free. I promise to be on my very best behavior.

Reading his email gave me butterflies (I’m such a girl!). In 2010, the idea of a traditional blind date was exciting and terrifying. I emailed him back:

I can do a Friday night happy hour… Where should I meet you?