An Unromantic Romance
I’m a bit of a sap. I love all that fairy tale, romantic comedy junk. Corny? Yes. Unrealistic? Of course. But I enjoy it anyway. Which is why when people ask me how I met my fiance, I cringe a bit. It’s probably the most unromantic way of meeting the love of your life.
I met him on OkCupid.com.
Okay, I guess it’s not so bad. I mean, I was the first and only person he met online (he was my third), so that’s kind of sweet and serendipitous.
Online dating was first recommended to me by my best friend, Lena. While lunching with her in our home town, Lena recited many success stories where others married nice Muslim guys they found on the internet. I’m a half-Pakistani, half-Korean, American-born Muslim, so finding a Muslim guy was important to me. I was three months out of a horrible relationship and finding a Muslim at a bar isn’t a great strategy. So on a lonely Wednesday night, I settled in bed with my huge Dell laptop and created a profile.
Search is great. I was able to filter by age, height, religion, and dietary restrictions (seriously, dietary restrictions). I could look at people’s pictures, see how they answered incredibly awkward questions, or skip over multiple paragraphs about how they’d never tried online dating before. It was quite entertaining.
The first night of my search, I ran across this:
His profile name was “Sup9.” The profile was blank except for three facts: he was 5'10", Muslim, and black… I looked again at his picture. Um.
OkCupid alerted me that he “chats often,” yet his profile was devoid of information. My first thought was, “this guy has to be a player.” Naturally, I moved on.
A few weeks later, I came back to Sup9's page by accident. I had forgotten that I had already clicked on his profile in my previous search for “Muslim hotties near San Francisco,” so when I saw that it was the same, blank page, I looked at his picture one more time (hey, he’s cute), and moved on.
Well sneaky OkCupid proceeds to email Sup9 my profile picture, informing him that I looked at his page. I guess he liked what he saw, because he sent me this message:
Such a player.
Sup9 ended up being Omar Seyal. Our first date was at the Codmother Fish and Chips in Fisherman’s Wharf. I remember feeling lazy that Sunday afternoon and wishing I didn’t have to go outside, but it ended up being a gorgeous day and the bus ride was surprisingly pleasant. I arrived a little early, as I tend to do, so I pretended to read something on my cell phone as Omar walked up. He wore black-rimmed glasses and jeans.He was punctual and ordered fish tacos. We talked about work, travel, and food.
Apparently, I bored the crap out of him.
Yes, he told me this about a month into dating. “Don’t worry, though,” Omar said. “I thought you were pretty so I went out with you again.” Um, thanks? Sometimes, this guy is way too honest. Luckily, I find it endearing. Most of the time.
Date two was much more interesting. Since we both like baseball, Omar invited me to a Giants playoff game. He witnessed my off-key singing during the seventh inning stretch; I caught him skipping from the stadium’s bathroom and muttering “oh bother” like Winnie the Pooh. The night ended with a very quick, abrupt, embarrassing first kiss that Omar wishes didn’t count. I found it hilarious.
But date three was the best. He took me to dinner at Beretta in the Mission where I introduced him to mushroom risotto and he introduced me to Bi-Rite Ice Cream. We walked through Dolores Park to a bench at the top of the hill where we sat and enjoyed the view. After that night, I think we both knew that we found something pretty awesome. And that bench ended up being the location of where he got down on one knee and asked, “Will you marry me?” on April 17, 2013.
So that’s my love story — or at least the beginning of it. I know there will be many more chapters full of silly jokes, hiccups, and a wealth of happiness. He makes me laugh every day. He makes me feel special all the time. I asked him recently what made him decide to propose to me. His response:
I wanted to lock it up.
I can’t wait to marry this man.
