divine intervention by way of a drunk stranger. clearly, God doesn't discriminate on who he uses to get his point across. the thing is, i was on a blind date last night. at least, that's what it ended up to be. i was eating wings at the bayou last weekend with david, when a close friend i haven't seen in a while walked in with her boyfriend and their families. this time the "we have to get together" worked and i had plans to join her and her boy and some of their friends in manayunk. but when i got there, i met ben. ben, this very single, very beautiful, very nice guy, jarret's best friend from home, who had apparently driven up from allentown to meet me. these situations make me uncomfortable because i seem to forget that my intentions do not have to match his. still, there's always that unbidden voice that whispers about the color of the grass out there... i tell it to hush; it accuses me of being scared and closed-minded. we make a truce and i relax, remembering that i'm sure of david and that means not worrying so much. and i did, and all was well till 1am when the band kicked up the music, his arm slid around my waist, and the line had been crossed. i disappeared in a beeline for the bathroom, which is where the eeriest situation yet was waiting for me. i got inside the door, feeling safer, when i vaguely recognized a girl at the sink. i think she and her boyfriend had sat with david and i at an orientation luncheon for significant-others. and while i could have never placed her, she zeroed in on me instantly. "andrea, where's david?" she asked. "um," i said, "he's in pittsburgh. are you...from pcom?" but she didn't really pause to hear me speak. "andrea, david loves you. he loves you. why are you here with somebody else?" and i tried to protest that i was here in a group, and i know he loves me, thank-you-very-much, and who the hell are you anyway, but again, she wasn't listening. "you're a pretty girl, and he's far away, but he LOVES you, he f-ing loves you, and that means something. he understands who you are. you have to call him, you have to talk about this with him. don't f*#% up, andrea." i'd have been really angry if i wasn't so creeped out, if she didn't have me backed into a corner. she was clearly drunk, and people say crazy stuff when they've had one margarita too many, but still... i felt like it had to be some divine kick in the balls, something that was too strange to be completely coincidental. i said goodnight to adrienne and her friends. i called david on the way home. i sat in my bathroom till 4am trying to figure the whole thing out. i still don't know her name, don't understand what disaster was averted or if was a freak accident. who knows about these things? but maybe i will thank whoever-she-is someday for reinforcing what i already knew was the truth.