I longed for the simpler life I had left behind. The quiet conversations with friends or nights at home with family. I wondered what had happened to that part of me. Was it because I had left it all behind in search of an escape from a marriage gone terribly wrong? Or was it my inability to adapt to this new place? Whatever it was I was growing disheartened with all Vegas was supposed to offer.

I had been told the cost of living was much lower than the small town in California I had left behind, and with an abundance of jobs that paid well above normal this was the place to be. The rumors of the potential of getting ahead are grossly exaggerated. There is a growing water shortage, thanks to over four thousand new immigrants arriving each month. House prices are sky rocketing and rents are outrageous even in the bad areas of town. I found myself wondering where this land of opportunity was that I had been told about.

All of that though constant in my mind was taking a back seat to my need for social interaction with semi-normal people. To put it mild I was homesick, and really wanted to go home. That however was not an option. I had to survive here in this world of lights, gambling and the anything goes attitude. Surely somewhere in the chaos there would be one normal person. Maybe normal is not the right person, I was far from normal. Let�s try someone more like me that I could just talk to over coffee.

I could have showered and slipped into a pair of jeans and gone out for a drink. Bars were every where. For someone that wanted social interaction I was not doing very much to find it. Instead I curled up on my bed with the cat and my lap top to spend another uneventful evening surfing the World Wide Web. I honestly believed I would be the only person online, since everyone else had a life. How pitiful to spend the start of a weekend sitting on a computer, but it is what I did. I surfed all the news sights first and without surprise found nothing but bad news. That didn�t help my mood any so I logged on to local discussion group I belonged to, planning to read the various discussions and maybe post a reply or two. At least I could pretend I was having an intelligent conversation with another human being.

After a few minutes of mindless surfing I discovered I was not alone on the discussion board, there was another poor soul home on a Friday night, setting in front of a computer screen. For some unknown reason I clicked on his profile and read about all he was looking for in the perfect mate. I so was not looking for a relationship. Been there, done that and owned the t-shirt, I was not going there again. Nope, not me, no way. But wait, his profile also said new to Vegas and also seeking friends. Perhaps there was hope after all. Could it be another person in the same city was home and desperate from companionship that didn�t involve more than mere friendship?

I read and re-read the profile numerous times, making note that he was educated, had a job, and liked to laugh. I admit a distant part of me wondered what his issue was. I was convinced all men had issues and I was tired of them becoming my issues. I was going to live happily single for the rest of my life. I had my own baggage, and didn�t want any one else�s. Perhaps because he was also seeking friends, I would not have to worry about his issues. After all someone to just hang out with from time to time or perhaps chat with on the phone, meant not getting to close. Therefore whatever his issues were I could keep my distance. I was starting to like this idea.

After nearly an hour of reading his profile over and over, I did something I had never in my life done, I emailed a complete stranger. I asked what two reasonably good looking intelligent people were doing home alone on a Friday night, and then I sent it off through cyber space to find its target. To be honest I did not really expect a response, but I waited to see if the email was read. No sooner had I received the email read confirmation, when a new email arrived in my account, from of all people this stranger.

Quickly, I clicked to open the email to see what this person had to say. Again I expected something so off the wall that this adventure in meeting someone online would end swiftly and I would have a good laugh at the stupidity of it all. What I had not counted on was simply a telephone number as a response. No, hi, nice to meet you or any other such niceties, just a telephone number. What the heck was I supposed to do with this? Call a complete stranger, yea right, I was going to do that. I hoped he wasn�t holding his breath.

I closed the email and continued the mind numbing surfing, only to find myself going back to the telephone number over and over. After about twenty minutes I convinced myself �What the hell� It was only a phone call and I could block my number. If he was totally weird I could hang up and he would never know who I was. After all if we passed each other on the street chances were we would have no idea who the other person was. That was the joy of online communities. Nameless, faceless people who existed in a small box with made up names. Being anonymous was easy online.

It was like I was possessed by someone who obviously did not use their mind to make decisions, because I dialed the telephone number, holding my breath as the phone on the other end rang, once, then twice. Before the third ring a voice picked up and the phone nearly fell from my hand. The voice on the other end was purely male. It was deeper that any voice I had ever heard. Some people may have been scared of it, but me. Call me brave or stupid, but I found the voice exciting. Wait! I wasn�t looking for anything more than friendship. I rationalized this attraction to just a voice as it not hurting to have friends who were also attractive. I wondered if his appearance would be as good as his voice.

We talked for over an hour. We talked about our jobs, what brought us to Las Vegas, and how nether of us knew anyone here. Since it was a night of doing things I had never done before I agreed to meet him for dinner. We were in Las Vegas, dining options galore, but it would not be some fancy sit down formal type dinner, nor would it be one of the many buffets Vegas was famous for, nope we were going to meet at the International House of Pancakes. In my mind it was perfect; though I am sure others would think it was insane. But then again the entire nights events so far were insane.

I had agreed to meet a perfect stranger for dinner. I told myself that I could pull in the parking lot and check him out before deciding if I would join him for dinner or drive off like I was never there. I mean he could be some serial killer for all I knew. I made a note to myself, that even if we got along well he was not going to find out where I lived. After all Ted Bundy was considered normal by many people who knew him. I may be crazy but I wasn�t stupid.

Once the call was over I raced around like a chicken with my head cut off. My cat curled up on my pillow watching through half closed eyes like I was indeed crazy. The meow alerted me that she was not happy at the idea of being left alone. I am sure she would roll all over the pillows, leaving trails of hair all over the clean pillow cases. She was a temperamental thing who didn�t like mom leaving her alone at night.

Clothes were flung all over the room as I sought the perfect outfit to wear. What does someone where on a dinner date at IHOP with a future friend? Better yet, why did I care, it was not like I was seeking anything more than friendship, and if I had to get dressed up for a friend, then I didn�t need one. I told myself that but still I cast aside outfit after outfit, finally settling on a pair of jeans and emerald green blouse that complimented my red hair perfectly. Next the makeup and even my hair were carefully done.. I didn�t stop to wonder why I was taking all the care I was to ensure my appearance was as good as I could make it. I never was one to try and impress anyone. Take me as I am or just go away was my theory. I really was beginning to think my body was taken over by some foreign being, because all of this was so not me.

I raced towards the IHOP and my encounter with a complete stranger. I have always been a bit of a lead foot; tonight I was more like a NASCAR driving intent on winning the Daytona 500. I raced down the interstate nearly missing my exit, and then turned into the parking lot of IHOP, on what I am pretty sure was two wheels. The effort to go unnoticed with my sudden appearance in the parking lot, I was running late and hated to run late. It was not my style. Again I wondered why I cared; it was not like this person knew me. Instead of toning it down I whipped my little compact car into the first open parking space, which just happened to be next to a burgundy jeep. The jeep registered in my mind as I tried to search why the jeep seemed important.

�Oh hell� I muttered as the meaning of the jeep registered. The guy I was meeting drove a jeep. Well I guess checking him out first was not out of the question. I dared to peek out the passenger side window and sure enough he was stepping out of his vehicle checking me out instead. I felt like a bug under a microscope, but took the time to drink in his appearance as well. Isn�t it funny when we first meet someone we check out the parts we view as important, instead of the entire package? For me it is all about the eyes and the smile. Both of which on this man were perfect. However he was huge. Not a little bit of a man, Oh no the voice defiantly fit the over six foot giant who was not helping me from my car.

Just like his voice I am sure some people were frightened by him. He was tall and built and had a voice that commanded attention, but it was the way he carried himself that let the world know he was in complete control of every aspect of his life. I should have run, and ran far. I so did not need nor want a control freak in my life. �What in the world was I thinking?� I asked myself as I followed him into the restaurant. The man could snap me in half like a twig if he really wanted to. Yet I had agreed to this. The idea was have dinner and then make a polite get away. Granted the man was damn good looking. I do have a think for the big bad boy type and he certainly fit that bill, but staying would be bad. No control freak for me. I was in charge of my destiny and no one else was going to ever get that power. I found I was disappointed in the concept of a power freak, but hid those feelings as we ordered our meals.

Surprisingly the conversation came easily. It was as if we had been life long friends. The quick escape I had planned evaporated as the hour�s drug on. I am sure the waitress was wondering if we were ever going to leave. At the very least she expected a really good tip for taking up space in her section for so long. We laughed as she grew more impatient but quietly refilled our drinks with a smile. Some where as the night drug on, we became lost in conversation as the rest of the world slipped away. Still I held on to that ray of hope that there was no way I was getting into another relationship, we were going to be nothing more than friends and that was not even a definite yet. Granted it was a growing possibility, but not set in stone.

He was too perfect, there had to be a flaw and sooner or later I would find it, and then this perfect night would go down in history as the silliest thing I had ever done. I would laugh when I was old and grey about the night I agreed to meet a complete stranger. Well, here I am a year later, and the idea of never entering another relationship flew out the window long ago and we are even discussing marriage. I am still looking for that flaw and will let you know if I ever find it.