For months I watched women swoon over The Bachelor, Jason Mesnick, a divorced single father, and I just couldn’t understand why. The whole thing was cute, sure, but didn’t these ladies get that people with kids have different priorities than those of us who have yet to procreate?

As a single twentysomething, I am the center of my world, and I like it that way. While I certainly want kids, I don’t want them right now. And I’ve always imagined that when the time comes, my partner and I will experience all of the firsts of parenthood together. But as I am constantly reminded, life doesn’t always work out the way I imagine it will.

When I went to see some live music last week, I found myself more into a bartender than the band. He had a beard, black-framed glasses and a mess of curly hair tucked up into a stocking cap—exactly my type. But every time I tried to order from him, another bartender would intercept. While my ill-fated attempt at conversation resulted in a few too many trips to the bar, I at least worked up enough liquid courage to give him my number… sort of. I scribbled "You, with the hat" alongside my name and number on a piece of paper, and left it by the tip jar on my way out. A few days later he called and the next night we were exchanging shy smiles and embarrassing stories over whiskey on the rocks.

I was smitten. He was cute, smart and much nicer than I expected (in my experience, his look is favored by grumbly hipsters). He played in a local alt-country band and paid for my drinks. Little did I know, he was building up some liquid courage of his own.

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