The Lost Love

Part 2 - Together Team

Ethan spotted me from across the street in my florescent pink zip-up and bright green suede sneakers, and laughed out loud. "You sure are glowy," he said, as we shook hands. I wasn't sure if he was insulting or complimenting me, but I thanked him and went inside. I had suggested a little vegan place, given my dietary restrictions, and ordered the hummus. He joked about forgetting to bring his own meat product. He was funny and unusually easy to talk to. We were both writers. Both Jewish. And had both been saved by therapy.

Looking at him from across the table in his light blue button down shirt and retro gray plastic glasses, I understood why he'd had a strong reaction to my outfit. My clothes shouted to the world that I was in the room while he was dark and deadpan. He made dry jokes that could easily fly over your head if you weren't paying attention. He sat back. I sat forward. He didn't try as hard as I did. I liked that about him. But this was not a date.

The second time Ethan and I got together, he asked me if I wanted to collaborate on a TV pilot with him. He wrote jokes for late night shows. I told stories on stage. He thought we'd make a good team.