Rogue Valley nights got lonely

Honestly, I moved down here from Portland for a slower pace, and the pace is great — it's the quiet evenings that get to me. I've got a little place off East Main, a cat who ignores me, and a growing collection of half-read paperbacks. What I don't have is someone to share a Friday with. I'm thirty-two, work in dental billing, and I'm the kind of person who talks to strangers at the Rogue Valley Growers Market because I genuinely want to know what they're making for dinner. If you're the type who'd rather split a bottle of something local on a porch than hit up a loud bar, we'd probably get along just fine.