The Soymilk to my Kashi

Kashi GoLean with soymilk. That would be the – I must say, exceptional – cereal preference of my next prospect from the dating website. (And what he unwittingly led with in his introductory email.) Visions of compatibility danced in my head. A peek at his profile revealed an athletic nutritionist who’s looking for not a girlfriend, or a friend, but an “activity partner.” Interesting. Well I like activities (assuming they don’t involve bars, genital mutilation, or the forced ingestion of beef) and I’m open to partnerships (in the proper context). No hilarious top ten lists or tales of monkey thievery, but a good looking chap who appears to have a few brain cells. I graduated him from round one.

Let’s see…Interests: nutrition, fitness, health, wellness (seeing a pattern here - is this the anatomy of a Kashi guy?), sociology, philosophy, surfing, hiking, climbing, great conversation, reading, yoga, movies, cooking, dreaming, traveling the world, fighting for the little guy.

Alright…a palatable mix of recreational, intellectual, and utterly metaphysical. My initial thought was that these interests/hobbies/windows into his soul seemed a little narrow, but then I opened my mind fractionally and considered that maybe they’re just related, which seems supremely more appealing and sensical. And then it occurred to me that I have about three total interests listed in my profile and conceded that he beats the pants off of me (hey, they’re gonna come off eventually, right?) in this department. Additionally, while I’m not a proponent of fighting, if you’re gonna do it, might as well be for midgets (or the oppressed, whatever…), so I liked that.

Reading on…He’ll try anything once, from skydiving to French cooking classes; he is the proud uncle of a niece who hates McDonalds; and he thinks money and things often get in the way of some truly great living.

Anything once, eh? How about public cereal consumption? Rarely do I find money and/or things getting in its way. And its greatness is true and undeniable.

So we emailed. He asked a lot of questions. I answered and asked some of my own. We exchanged banter. He requested my phone number. I rebuffed. I proposed a Cereal Date. He went to San Diego for the weekend. He returned and suggested Wednesday afternoon. I told him I have a job. He went on a week-long roadtrip. I advised him to avoid buying gas. He returned and confirmed that gas is expensive and Mormons are, well... He proposed cereal and “silly stories” on Saturday. I accepted. He suggested meeting at JuJu Cereal Bar. I marveled at the reappearance of this fine establishment in my dating life and (again) at our cereal compatibility and agreed. And then I squinted my eyes slightly, tapped my right index finger to my lips and wondered just how similar our cereal bar concoctions would be. (You're at the edge of your seat now, aren't you?)