It’s been a ridiculously crazy week. I’ve been running 90 miles an hour so long that I’m not sure what 80 feels like any more. But yesterday, I got to go to an operator training class less than an hour away. I need the continuing education credits and I needed to get away from that site for a day. And maybe it would be something useful for the job even (turns out, not so much.)

But I was sitting in the hotel lobby waiting for the people to set up, and in walked a few other operators and boss-types. One immediately raised my eyebrows. “Oh my. I’m going to sit by him,” I thought, probably not subtly.

So I did. That’s one of the beauties of going places alone; I’m free to join other groups. It’s not even weird. They had five tables set up, so I had to. I picked theirs on purpose, and asked them if they minded. They (three guys together) did not mind, and as we got to talking, figured out that not only were we all pretty local to each other, but Mr. Handsome had been in the Air Force at my site.

Allll right. Conversation starter!

So we did our class, and the interactive parts were fun for me, because my mind wasn’t entirely on the class, if you know what I mean (and you do too, shush.)

When it came time for lunch, I just asked to join them again. That’s not weird or bold in this context, two other strays did too, so we all went down to a tasty lunch spot. I stalled back a little to decide the optimal place to sit, Mr. Handsome patted the chair next to him, and I quite agreed. I’m afraid we sort of dominated the conversation at the lunch table, although I didn’t intend to. Back at the conference, waiting for it to start again, we got onto the subject of hunting. Not a big stretch for two people wearing assorted bits of camo accessories (shush again, my cell phone holder broke and the replacement is camo.)

He told some stories about a planned antelope hunt in Wyoming, which totally interests me. When I mentioned that I mostly bear hunt, I could see his ears pick up too, but by then class was starting again. I tried to keep my eyes off of him across the table, but he felt like a friend already. Maybe he’s just like that, maybe I am, or maybe it was mutual.

After class, I was hoping to give him my number or something, but by the time I’d got out of the bathroom, they were all gone. So I brushed it off as an opportunity lost. It’s a small industry and we’re bound to run into each other again. But my mind kept nibbling at it. I haven’t met someone who made me sit up and take notice like that at first contact in a long, long time, and it would be a shame to passively let it slide by. I knew his first name (it was on his shirt, and our name tags) and the water district he works for, so just for shits and grins, I googled it.

Sadly, I didn’t find him, but I did find the boss who was there that day. Then began the dilemma. Do I call the boss and ask him to pass on my number? Hell, I don’t even know if he’s single - we tend not to wear rings in this business, as we like to keep our fingers intact. And man, what guy wants to be embarrassed at work like that? I was so twitterpated that I did not think of the obvious until a friend pointed out to me that I didn’t have to go through the boss, I could go through the main switchboard and be pretty damn anonymous.

So that’s what I did. First I tried the automated directory, but that didn’t work. Field guys aren’t usually on those anyway; I know ours aren’t. So I tried again, and talked to a person. I told him the guy’s first name, that I didn’t know the last one because it wasn’t on his shirt, and when asked if it was regarding a specific property, I just said, “No,” and did not elaborate.

Phone guy went to see if he was in the office, and I had me a moment of panic. I wasn’t that ready! But no, I got a cell phone number. Before I could amp myself up into complete nervousness and that voice that only dogs can hear, I dived right into it. Voice mail. Crap. Is not classy to ask someone out over voice mail. But I did anyway. I told him who I was, and that I’d meant to ask him, if there wasn’t a wife or girlfriend who would be offended by my asking, would he like to go bear hunting with me? (Bear hunting behind hounds is really something special that not many people get to do, and most hunters won’t turn down the chance.) And I left my phone number.

So it’s done. I wasn’t smooth, but at least my voice didn’t crack. He may be married or just plain not interested, but at least I took a chance. All I had to lose was face, and I’m getting to that age where I don’t give a good goddamn about that anyway.

But this sure is nerve-wracking! And boys are supposed to learn how to do this when they’re teenagers? My hat’s off to you, men. I’ve done it here and there, probably more often than many women, and it hasn’t got any easier yet. The wait-and-see, I can handle. Out of my hands now, no sense worrying about it further. But I’ve sure had my adrenaline rush for the day.