Dear Bitter Amanda,
I'm in a bit of a pickle. I met an attractive and interesting man a few weeks ago with a common interest. We talked for a while, and eventually exchanged information about other events that were happening. Now, I've been rather busy since then, though I had planned on contacting him this week about an event coming up, in hopes that we'd meet up and get chatting again. However, last night he may have showed up at a weekly event that I told him about, but to which I hadn't expected him to come... but then again, maybe he didn't.
Bitter Amanda, I can't remember what he looks like.
I know he had glasses and a beard, and was slightly taller than I am. There was a man there last night fitting that description, but was it him? I couldn't tell. I spent much of the evening sneaking furtive glances, trying to figure out if this was the same person, and being generally on the other side of the room so I wouldn't have to make conversation.
And here's the rub: I had good time chatting with him! I wanted to see him again! But maybe I did, and didn't recognize him. Why doesn't my brain work!? If I invite him to the other event, how will I recognize him? Did I just spend the whole night ignoring him after I told him to come? O, calamity!
I am aware at how ridiculous this sounds, especially since I did describe him as "attractive". But, Bitter Amanda, beards and glasses, two of those most distinguishing factors that you'd use to identify someone (for goodness sake, they major descriptors in the game Guess Who) are all too common these days.
Damn hipsters. Damn them all.
So what to do? Invite and hope that I hadn't avoided him the whole night and look like an ass? Or pretend the whole thing didn't happen, and give up befriending a quite interesting human being?
Dear Miss Jones,
You know, most cell phones these days have cameras. Next time you meet a dude, take a sneaky picture of him. Or make a mark on his neck with a Sharpie so you can identify him next time. Maybe you can get one of those pet trackers!
In the interest of separating this man from the hipsters, and because I am mean and just want to see it happen, you need to stage some sort of elaborate plan. Invite him to whatever unironic event you're attending--but make sure you can find him this time. Are you comfortable with lying? Not like, major "I'm moving to the moon" lying, but just...a little lie. A white lie. A short work of fiction with good intentions, if you will. So..are you? If not, you'd better try another advice column. But if you are ok with that, then let's go.
So invite your bearded beau and talk up this event like it's really cool but you heard the weirdest thing about it! Tell him that apparently, you can't get in unless you're carrying a rubber chicken. (Still with me?) SO he walks in, rubber chicken in hand, and there you go. That's your man.
But Amanda, won't he notice that no one else has a rubber chicken? Do I need to bring one too? What's the point of that? You're getting bogged down in details--it doesn't matter why! You can be just as baffled as he is, when you tell him. You don't need one because remember, that's the lie. I mean, if you're really into that idea or you have one, what the hell. Throw it in your handbag. But it's really not necessary.
Right, but what about when he notices that no one else is carrying one? That's not my problem. I lured your tall man there--it's your job to handle him once he walks in.
What if he gets upset about it or refuses to go because of this plan? Then he's lame and you should find another bespectacled friend.
Ok, well what if he WAS the guy at this event and I ignored him? This is easy, throw it back at him. Why didn't you come talk to me?
What if he shows up without a rubber chicken and we have an awkward encounter. Oh, I hardly recognized you without your rubber chicken! Simple.
Have you ever done anything like this? Of course not.
You do realize this is a terrible plan, right? Yeah, but you're still reading it. You came to a blog called Bitter Amanda for help--I don't think you have a lot of options right now. Go with the rubber chicken.
Make sure I'm invited to the wedding. I'll tell this story and I'll try not to be mean to your bridesmaids.
PS: I'll probably make fun of your bridesmaids. Full disclosure.