Because I’m “Get off my lawn!” years old, I remember the bygone days when I would suggest somebody hook up with me at [insert location] or reply, “Sure!” without a second to such an invitation.

Alas, is it 2018 and the phrase “hook up” has evolved. More often than not these days it means something far less innocent than it used to. Way more than a mere meeting.

So when Match2 messaged me over the weekend, “Want to hook up tonight?” I was mildly suspicious. Understandable, yeah?

This is a person I’ve never actually met. We’ve only texted a couple of times. I wasn’t even 100% sure of his real name.

I know I’m kinda stupid when it comes to this dating stuff (Hello, I got to a third date with Match1 (more on that later) before I knew his last name!), but not that stupid. Which is why I went for the clarification.

“Hook up?”

He answered the next day.

“How about a coffee later? That’s what I meant when I said hook up.”

Don’t get me wrong. I don’t have an issue with people who dig the other kind of hooking up. It’s just not my thing. And I like to properly manage expectations all the way around.

My sister, channeling her inner Harry (That, my friend, is a dark side. )rather than her usual Sally, weighed in.

“Either that (optimistic) or you called him out and he backed down (cynical)…hopefully somewhere in the middle to optimistic range,” she commented on my inevitable Facebook post.

Here’s hoping, because a coffee date is in the offing.

I’ll keep you posted on the non-hook-up hook-up.

The moral of this story? Worms, matter. Worms! Roxanne, worms!

The picture up top makes a bit more sense now, doesn’t it? What can I say? I’m in an odd mood.