Of Wheat Allergies and Men

It probably does not come as much surprise that FAB does not look kindly upon people with dietary restrictions, whether socially constructed (vegetarians, kosher keepers), medically indicated (lactards, celiacs), or the just plain obnoxious (I'm looking at you, vegans). It's not that I object to them as people or won't hang out with them, but I find them incredibly tedious to eat with and am loathe to cook for them. What can I say? I like to eat what I want to eat when I want to eat it. So imagine my horror when I discovered that not just one but BOTH of the guys I've been "talking to," from a dating website we'll transparently refer to here as Jewdate, are gluten-impaired. Wheat-free. Bagel-handicapped. Pizza-averse. Beer-disabled. Whiskey-phobic. Seriously?
On the counsel of numerous friends, I managed to suppress my initial instinct to run for the hills (how could I possibly have a lasting and loving relationship with someone who cannot eat tacos?) and give these poor digestionally challenged fellows a try. [Ed. Numerous people have pointed out that celiacs can eat tacos. Let me specify, we're talking soft tacos. My favorite kind. Or double decker tacos. Either way, FAB tacos involve delicious soft flour tortillas.] Who knows? It could be love, right?
In order to keep things straightened out, I've begun lovingly refering to these two gentlemen as Gluten 1 and Gluten 2, based on the order in which they first disclosed their status to me (which, conveniently enough, is also the order in which I went out with them). And here's where the universe starts to collapse on top of me.
Saturday night I meet up with Gluten 1 and end up back at his place (shut up) on a rather charming block in Park Slope. Gluten 2, meanwhile, emails me three options for our date on Monday (aka last night): 1. a pasta restaurant (hello, gluten?), 2. an awesome sushi restaurant I've been dying to try, and 3. a very cool establishment but one where the FABbro also happens to be the manager. Um, no. So FAB selects option dos. Obviously.
As I'm readying to leave for dinner with Gluten 2 last night, I quickly do a Google Map search to see exactly where the famed sushi restaurant is located. And my heart grinds to a screeching halt. Sushi restaurant is somehow located on the same block, same side of the street as Gluten 1's apartment. And that's just the beginning.
Dear internet, is it possible that the two guys currently on the table, so to speak, who couldn't possibly be more different in personality, appearance, and style, are essentially two iterations of the exact same person? Ghosts of gluten-free past and gluten-free future perhaps? Because as the night with Gluten 2 continues, I learn that, in addition to sharing a digestive issue, both Gluten 1 and Gluten 2 work on the account management side of advertising and both grew up in central Jersey. In towns 6.9 miles apart.
I've always been taken to believe that this here is a rather large-sized city I live in, so how do these things happen?