He thought you were quite attractive. He told Steve so. He wants to know, are you interested?

What a simple question... this would have been, in my early 20's. Of course! I'd answer, without a second thought, a backward glance, a single hesitation. Why not? Because "why not" was the prevailing logic of those days full of endless possibilities, where mystery and romance beckoned around every corner. When I luxuriated in time's inexhaustible supply. I'd never run out of it.

Now, I hesitate. I consider, balance, speculate. Sure, he's nice looking, but what are the odds we have anything in common? What's the chance this could go beyond a first date, a second, a third? What do I even know about him? He's a bartender. And?

What happened? Where did the time go? I used to think that I could stand still. I could move forward, by actively pursuing an agenda of personal growth and development, by working to enrich my mind and my soul. I could move backward, by engaging in all-too-familiar destructive behavioral patterns. Or, I could stand still. After all, what was the harm in acting a bit mindless and carefree from time to time? The bartender and I could have a few laughs, I could score a handful of free meals, and he would probably comp my friends' tabs whenever we came by for drinks. When the fling had run its course, we'd part ways amicably and I'd be available again to meet Mr. Right. But now I see the truth. There's no standing still. If I'm not moving forward, I'm falling desperately behind.

I remember my first semester of law school. I felt pretty good after my exams, and when I got my grades - two B's and one B+ - I breathed a contented sigh. I fell right in the middle of the curve, and that was alright by me. I thought, Just keep doing what you're doing, and you'll be fine. But I was sorely mistaken. While I spent the next four months perpetuating the same study habits I'd employed first semester, my classmates took what they'd learned and improved upon their past behavior. My calculations were all wrong. I'd failed to account for other people. And I'd failed to account for time. So if I'm behaving like I'm 22 when I'm 22, and I'm still behaving like I'm 22 when I turn 28, I haven't stood still for 6 years. Time's marched on, and I have nothing to show for it. I have, in fact, regressed. So, while my classmates who'd earned A's first semester continued to earn A's, and those who'd earned C's now earned B's, my fellow B-earning comrades had moved up in the ranks, leaving me behind. I'd been overlooked, trampled upon, left for dead. I was a casualty of my own ignorance, my own arrogance, and my own indifference to the most valuable and irreplaceable commodity we're given. I'd underestimated the march of time.

I'm moving away, he's staying here. I'm an attorney, he's a bartender. Who knows how many patrons he hits on like this...

We could have a few laughs, but there's no standing still. And I should move forward. I think it's time.