bloard - bloard encounters

They'd matched on a dating app. She was immediately captivated by his bio and profile pic. He was witty, clever, and it seemed like he had his life together. He had an unusual face. Not traditionally beautiful, but handsome, in a workmanlike sort of way: the word "Bloard", in blue. She was taken by it. She agreed to meet him at a Starbucks. 2pm on a Thursday. It was nearly full when she entered, and so she had to scan all the male faces in the room to match the picture from his profile. There he was, at a table for two in the corner. As she crossed the room, she found herself nervous. Butterflies. Unusual. She'd dated enough recently to not take these things seriously anymore. She sat down across from him. "I'm--I'm Carly," she stuttered. He nodded, smiled. "Bloard," he said. "Lol," she said. "You're so funny." "Well, you know. Bloard." She felt relieved. There was nothing to be nervous about. "You're...you're even more attractive in person. Your face, I mean. The curve of the O. The hard, angular A." She stopped herself. What was she doing? "Sorry," she said. "I'm not crazy, I swear." "Hey, no worries," he said. "It's bloard."