"Here, Ellie, have this nice moment." - Universe

So, this is a thing that just happened, right now, at 1:30 am on Friday.

I was walking Chaucer, listening and singing along to Old 97s (duh), when I noticed a boy standing on the street corner up ahead of us. Something about his build, the way his clothes fit, and the way he was looking pretty intently at Chaucer made my heart stop, because I thought for a second it was my ex-husband.

Another step closer revealed it wasn't. It was just a tall, goodlooking guy in a t-shirt, jeans, and Chucks, who was smiling at my dog. I sized him up quickly and put his age at 30, tops. Then I realized he was speaking to me, so I clicked down the volume on my phone, which was stuffed in the pocket of my hoodie. He was commenting on Chaucer's size and friendliness (by this time Chauc was wagging and pulling forward to sniff), so I let the leash out so they could meet properly.

He said something about my being safe from strangers with such a big guard dog, and I made a crack like, "Yes, except for random guys on the street corner." He laughed and looked directly at me, holding my gaze for longer than is normal between two strangers being friendly over a love of dogs. I could see his eyes were very blue. Or maybe blue-green? Some bright, watery color. He asked Chaucer's name, and when I said it, he cocked his head. "So you're a fan of English literature, then?" I told him he was about the seventh or eighth person to ever get the reference and he said something back about lamenting the state of humankind's intellect.

He held out his hand and introduced himself. He was very smiley. "I'm sorry, I'm a little drunk," he admitted. "But your dog is awesome and you're really cute. May I walk with you a little bit?"

The forwardness was disarming, but he looked harmless enough, and I couldn't help being flattered. For one thing, I was a hot mess in a sweatshirt, sweatpants (which, at least, were my cute knee length ones), and a sweaty ponytail, having pretty much just finished a run ten minutes before. For another, it's hard to resist the rom-com charm of potentially meeting someone cool while walking your dog.

I assumed he was visiting either from out of town or another part of LA, and heading back to his hotel or maybe trying to find a cab. He didn't really have a downtown look to him - a bit too clean cut. "Which way are you headed?" I said. "I guess we can walk you back to your...hotel?"

He said he lived here. "Here here?" I asked, making a gesture to indicate downtown. "Yeah," he nodded. "I live at _____". He named a building three blocks from where we stood.

By this time there was a lot of eye contact and smiling going on. I couldn't help laughing at how abrupt and random the situation was, and I asked him how much he'd had to drink. "Not much. Like eight drinks, max," he said. I had no idea if he was serious.

We crossed the street and started towards his building. I asked him where he'd been out tonight, and he rambled a little bit about his sketchy roommate having picked up a girl and him staying out alone to give them privacy. He was funny and very cheerful, and kept smiling at me in a way that kind of unnerved me. When he said he had a dog that Chaucer absolutely had to meet, I frowned.

"Yeah, ummm I'm really not sure that I'm comfortable coming up to your apartment..?" A semi-horrified look came over his face. "No, no, I'll bring him downstairs, and they can meet on the sidewalk, if you'll wait. Please wait?"

"Why not," I said.

He suddenly stopped dead in his tracks. "Wait," he said very seriously. "Do you have a boyfriend?" I told him that, in fact, I did not. "Good," he said. "Because you're funny and cool, and you have really cute bangs." He looked squarely at me. "Are you still listening to music?" he asked. Before I could reply, he reached forward, gently pulled my headphones out of my ears, and tucked the ear buds into the top of my hoodie. Nonplussed. Nonplussed would be the word I would use there, to describe myself in that moment. It was an intimate gesture, but somehow not intrusive, and it didn't bother me.

I had a hard time coming up with clever replies to any of this, incidentally. It was rather whirlwindy of an encounter.

We walked slowly to his place. He admitted to a) having had only two drinks, b) having been born, raised, and schooled in Southern California, and c) when it came up in the course of banter, having been born a "one percenter" (my words). "But," he added, "Now I'm at best a twenty percenter." Again - no idea if he was serious. He didn't tell me what he does for a living, and I didn't ask. When our ages came up and I told him mine, which it turns out is - OF COURSE - nine years older than him, he didn't flinch. He said something about "as long as we're within a decade," and genuinely didn't seem to care.

So, the next twenty minutes: small talk, jokes, low-key flirtation. I waited outside his building entrance while he brought his dog down to meet Chauc - a scruffy pound pup named Captain whose tag is an actual picture of Captain Picard, from Star Trek. They loved each other. He owns his condo, and sublets a room to Sketchy Roommate. He's going to blow off work tomorrow, he said, and go to Mexico for the weekend. (No, he did not invite me.) But he did ask very politely for my phone number which, yes, I gave to him. He immediately called me and the number lit up my phone with a Beverly Hills area code.

Bottom line: he was pretty clever, and I like how upbeat, relaxed, confident, and smiley he was. And he was very clearly into me, which felt really, really good. At one point he said something about not wanting "this" to end, to which I let him walk me another block before demurring further company. It was, after all, nearly two am.

We said goodbye on the corner halfway between our apartments, and he continued to talk and call things out while walking backward across the street - he was excited to meet me, my dog was amazing, I was smart and pretty, he hoped it would be ok if he called sooner than later... I couldn't hear everything he was yelling; he was getting kind of far away at that point, and there was a semi truck going by. I waved one last time and turned to walk home, marveling at the universe's ability to instantly take me out of a ho-hum, sort of lonely evening and drop me straight into a Carly Rae Jepson song.

My phone rang three minutes later, and it was him, wanting to make sure I'd gotten home safely. I assured him I was steps from my door, told him it lovely to meet him and Captain, and to have a great time in Mexico.

Who knows if anything will come of it - he was extremely forward and obviously tipsy, so I don't know how much I'd even want to come of it, because that's a bit dodgy - but mayhaps. He was definitely cute. If nothing else, it was an uplifting (and rather sorely needed) ego boost.

And now I must go to sleep because tonight I have a kick ass concert to go to. Huzzah.