How to Get a Man

This is one of my favorite stories to tell: How Coby & I met. Listen carefully kids and you too can find love on the internet.

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It’s the summer of 2011 and I have just landed an actual law job, which was no small feat given that the 2010 economic tanking meant that myself and my law school classmates were staring down the barrel of the worst hiring market since the great depression. I thought I got this job based on merit, but it’ll turn out that the old white man who hired me did so because he thought I was attractive and he wanted to be able to sexually harass me for all of eternity. Which he successfully did for many years, but that is another story for another day.

On its face, the only problem with the job was that it was back in my hometown, and I wasn’t really ready to move back. I was living in Seattle and enjoying the city life. Good food, my brother just a few blocks away, nightlife. But law school was expensive and I was desperate so I packed up and started at JDSA in July, 2011.

My main concern moving back to the valley wasn’t whether I would be any good at my job (unearned confidence reference), or where I would live (my parent’s basement), but rather it was the fact that I was so very single. A female attorney living in a conservative small town. How the hell am I supposed to find a boyfriend?!

I had done online dating when I was in Seattle and it was epically disastrous. My favorite date was the guy who opened with “so, I dabbled with WWE wrestling.” Literally, that was his opening line. If memory serves (it doesn’t), he said this before he even told me his name. At any rate, I wasn’t willing to jump back on the dating websites.

I also didn’t have time to date. Associate attorney hours are brutal. I was working every waking hour of my life. I wanted so badly to succeed at being an attorney that I didn’t set boundaries with my work and personal life. I just went at it and kept my head down.

So I did what any enterprising young woman would do: I solicited the names of single men from anyone and everyone I met. I even asked a client if they knew of any single men, much to the horror of my uptight bosses (I promise that I asked within the context of the conversation and in a charming and disarming manner, bosses were still pissed).

One day, I was getting a massage from Dena Halle when I asked her if she had any leads for me. Dena said that she had a client who’s son was single. Or she was pretty sure he was. She couldn’t remember his name but he was the head basketball coach at Wenatchee Valley College. I was thrilled. As a former jersey chaser and Gonzaga cheerleader, basketball and the men who play it are my specialty.

That night, I told my roommate (read: my Mom) about my new lead. We got out a bottle of white wine and started sleuthing. I got on the WVC website and found the head coach. He had a super weird name so I stopped judging Dena for not remembering it. Coby Weidenbach.

I copy and pasted it into the Facebook search engine and up popped a blonde dog being cradled by some guy who’s face was hidden behind fur. Without being his friend, I could see very little. There were a few more photos but I didn’t know which guy was Coby Weidenbach. Every photo visible to me was a group shot. With friends at a bar, groomsmen at a wedding. No idea which was which.

Mom and I finished our wine and poured another glass, which we downed while discussing whether I should send him a Facebook friend request. Like, out of the blue without knowing him at all? That sounds too weird and desperate to me. But as I was starting the third glass of wine and with my Mom’s encouragement, I pressed the “friend request” button. And then I waited.

I don’t remember how many days passed, but it was enough to make me think that he wasn’t going to accept my friendship. The waiting made me want it more. It bugged me. I had even changed my profile picture to show a more youthful Lindsey, on Gonzaga’s campus, in my cheer skirt. How could he not want to be my friend?!

Turns out, he kinda didn’t. On October 7th at 7:40AM, I received the following message:

I was floored that he had responded. Without hesitation and with such speed that everyone should be worried about my moral compass, I promptly lied:

The friend I was referring to that played basketball at WVC was Jared. I quickly called him and looped him in with my lie. Jared, affable and very used to my antics, seemed amused and said that I could count on him. But I never had to call in that favor. That night, Coby accepted my friend request and messaged me again. He pointed out that we had a mutual friend, Elisa.

It had worked! My internet stalking had worked. We met up two days later, October 9th, at Oktoberfest. My college friends Zach and Christina had come into town for the festivities. We ate a huge lunch and then headed up to Leavenworth early. We got there probably around 1PM, bought as many drink tickets as could carry, and got to it. We danced, bought beer after beer, and enjoyed a lovely afternoon.

Coby didn’t get to Leavenworth until late that night, around 8PM. I had been drinking all day, out in the sun. When I heard my phone buzz and saw his text come through, I’m pretty sure I had to close one eye to read it (IYKYK). He was there with friends and driving, so he wouldn’t be drinking much. Fine by me, I’d had enough for the both of us.

Mind you, I had no idea what Coby looked like because none of the Facebook photos gave him away (group shots be damned). I was in the main tent in line for beer when this guy, just a few people ahead of me, kept looking over his shoulder at me. I’d never seen him before in my life and at the time, I had a stalker (one of two scary stalkers in my life - story for another day). He was handsome though. Tall, kind eyes, wearing a Cougs hat. Then it dawned on me. It had to be Coby.

To test this theory, I marched my happy ass up the line and asked if he was, indeed, Coby Weidenbach. “Are you Lindsey?” He responded. I was! I was Lindsey! I remember being blown away at how good looking he was. Tall, lean, beautiful mismatched eyes, a nice smile. We talked in line, got beers and then waited for my friends to get through the line.

I wish I could tell you that we spent the rest of the night making out and talking about how it’s love at first sight. I mean, we very well could have for all I know. After getting my 823rd beer, I promptly blacked out. I remember nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, about the rest of the night.

Pieced together by Coby and Christina, I know we did the chicken dance and seemed to be enjoying ourselves. My Mom picked us up that night and apparently I spent the 25 minute car ride home telling her that I’d met the man of my dreams and that I would someday marry him. I cannot confirm nor deny that this was said. Again, very drunk. Very blacked out.

Of course I was afraid that he thought I was a lush and would never want to see me again. What I didn’t know then was that Coby thought I was charming, hadn’t known I was sloshed and if he had, wouldn’t have cared. He took me out on a date a few days later. Over time, I slowly leaked to him that I’d stalked him on the internet and then lied to him to get him to message me back. He’s by far the best thing I’ve ever found on the internet.