Patio Four – The Quick Witted “Brit Ish” Bird

I have been really enjoying 13 Patios. The people are all very different, the drinks are hit or miss, and the conversations range from awkward small talk to life stories told through saucepans.

Two Months Too Long

Elle and I had been texting for about almost two months, which is two months longer than I spend texting patio meet ups. It long enough to discover we had a mutual friend, that we narrowly missed each other at a party and almost ended up on the same softball team.

She’s another Enneagram 7, three out of four patios, which is interesting to me.

She was very interested in dating and I will be honest, I get finding someone cute on the apps, but you don't know someone until you meet in person. Her enthusiasm was actually slightly off putting. I sent her a text letting her know, statistically, why we probably wouldn’t be a match. Not in a cynical way, just practical. She replied with, “For fu$k’s sake, Annie” And that shut it down. I laughed, but then I paused. That kind of emotional detachment isn’t really my norm. Where was my default optimism? The part of me that believes something good is just around the corner?

I had to find out. According to a random psychology article I found online, after being in a relationship where you’re constantly bracing for emotional whiplash, your body can start to read peace as danger. Like, “Hey this feels nice. Let’s panic.” Interesting. Noted. Will discuss in therapy on Monday.

I Wasn't Super Excited

We decided to meet on a Friday night and kept it simple The Avondale Tap. She ordered an Aperol spritz. I stuck with my usual gin drink. I love the food, I love the vibe, I love the people… and I still haven’t had a drink there I actually enjoy.

Of course, the women next to us wanted to pet Pip. The weather was warm and yet for reasons unclear to me, I wore a t-shirt with a long sleeve shirt over it. I was pouring sweat.

But I played it cool. Yes, pun intended. Always intended.  

At some point, I told her the last four years of my life, unplanned, while somehow weaving saucepans into it. I did not realize how deeply cookware had shaped my past relationships until that night. It somehow has, from my divorce to my recent breakup. She listened.

When she asked what I had for dinner, I didn’t want to tell her. But she insisted. “A Pop-Tart” I finally admitted. She repeated it back with genuine concern. So I tried to explain, “Well, that was more like an appetizer. I also had…” and then I couldn’t even say it. “Oh, please do,” she urged. “Ramen noodles,” I confessed between deep laughs.  “Aren’t those the noodles you just add water to?” The conversation spiraled into a full lesson on English muffins, muffins, scones, and crumpets. I loved every minute of it.

She's Really Quick Witted & Fun

Elle kept me laughing. Her timing is perfect. She also had me fully convinced that people in the UK celebrate “Treason Day” on July 4th. I spent a solid thirty seconds trying to understand how they would celebrate that. I can tell you it is not by grilling hot dogs. She’s smart, she’s well traveled, everything she says sounds lovely and she has a big heart. 

We laughed all night. At one point I asked if she could change a tire on her own, I don’t know why, I just needed to know. Those are the random conversations we have that lead down so many other paths. I didn't have romantic feelings toward Elle, but she's a good person.

Another great patio meetup. There’s something really cool about meeting a stranger on a summer evening, especially one who feels familiar and one who keeps up and truthfully, requires me to keep up. Not a common occurrence.

Be Yourself, No One Can Tell You That You're Doing It Wrong

That night, I found myself in deep thought, not just on the night, but on how far I’ve come. I was the kid with selective mutism. The one who sat alone at lunch. The “odd” one. I never imagined I would grow up to be someone who would willingly sit across from strangers and share stories over a gin drink. But here I am.

Every morning, I get out of bed, look out the window and say (with more enthusiasm than Pip appreciates): “Pip, we live in Chicago!” And I mean it. I’m genuinely excited to find out what the day holds.

If you’re reading this and feeling like the “odd one,” here’s what I’ll say. Don't give up, keep being you. If you stay true to yourself, you’ll find the right people and you’ll realize you’re not the odd one at all and you never actually were.