Welcome to 29 Dates, where we explore the weird, wild and sometimes wonderful world of dating — one date at a time.

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It was the day after Christmas and I matched with a decent enough-looking guy on a dating app.

We met up that evening at a bar I frequented downtown and had some nonsensical talk as we numbed ourselves with numerous alcoholic beverages.

I wasn’t looking for anything other than a seasonal lay, and knowing he was only home for Christmas made him prime for a one-hit wonder.

We stumbled into another bar around the corner, possibly holding hands, possibly all over one another — and then I saw him. A tall, Jesus-esque deity of a man, caught in a moment as he played guitar. He had long, wavy hair tied back into a ponytail and was on the stage, surrounded by a handful of other musicians. I couldn’t take my eyes off him and knew I had to have him, sooner rather than later.

Though my date and I had already planned to go to mine, or perhaps hook up in the bar’s dingy toilets (YOLO?), I couldn’t go through with it.

I made up some sort of story and cut my date short, walked out with him, pretended to head home.

I made up some sort of story and cut my date short, walked out with him, pretended to head home, then went back to the venue to soak up more of this guy’s energy.

I was waiting for his set to wrap so I could approach him but decided I’d get lost in the après show fanfare and instead went home, only to open my laptop and investigate. I did some googling, came to the band’s Facebook page, and bingo: I found him. I added him as a friend, then sent him a private message saying I noticed him across the way. He invited me to check out his band’s New Year’s Eve show, and at about half an hour to midnight, I ditched my girlfriends. His set finished 15 minutes before midnight and as the clock struck 12, he leaned over and kissed me.

We left the venue together, hand in hand, rushing home after a post-performance drink and hang with the rest of his band, excited to explore each other.

That was four years ago and though we’re not together, every time I find myself single again, I magically find my way back to him.

Like what you see? How about some more R29 goodness, right here?

The Date Who Told Me He Loved Me On Our First Date

The Date Whose Girlfriend Was In A Coma

The Date Where I Got Dumped