So we agreed to meet at a mutual location. There are all sorts of dating rules about online dating. You need to call someone when you leave for your date. Then again you call them when you are headed home and then you call them when you get home. This is to assure yourself that you have not just had a date with a serial killer who has followed you home to bludgeon you to death in your driveway. Sounds fun, doesn't it?
As usual I am fifteen minutes late. Anyone who knows me, knows this to be a truth in my life. But he patiently waits. I arrive and there he is, or is that him? It is hard to tell because he is at least 30 pounds heavier than his Match.com photo. Is that fair? I am not that particular about weight or hair but I think honesty is important. If you have gained weight, put a new photo up and don't describe yourself as 'athletic and toned'. Eventually you are going to be seen and these lies will come back to haunt you. He is a gentleman, standing to pull out my chair and ordering for me. Hmmmmm.....maybe I can look past the two chins. But then he starts talking about his life.
He decides that in order to woo me he will tell me a story about how he spends Christmas Eve with his kids. I am sure this will be an adorable story about a father spending quality time with his kids. Oh, how wrong I am. He tells me he starts Christmas Eve by making a roaring fire in the fireplace so there is no way Santa will attempt to come down the chimney. Then just to make sure, he takes out his guns (yes, guns) and places them in his lap as he sits on the couch making sure Santa doesn't use a fire extinguisher and still make an attempt to enter the home. He then tells his impressionable children that he will make sure that Jolly Fat man never comes in the house. After telling me this story he laughs uproariously. I want to as him how much he has spent on psychologists for his kids but I restrain myself.
The evening only gets better from there. I make a decision to have a second drink and then spend the rest of the time together talking about myself. Because honestly I am way more interesting than this guy. He tells me three times that he is an intellectual. I don't think he knows what the word means. He talks about living in
Just as we get the check his cell phone rings. It is his son, PorkChop. He calls his son Porkchop. It is not an endearing nickname, I think it is his actual name. I think his birth certificate says Porkchop on it. Porkchop is at his girlfriends house and needs a ride home. My cue. I tell him he needs to go help his son and I race for my car. He points out his truck and I am relieved to see there is no gun rack or Confederate Flag on it. I hop in my car quickly, avoiding the awkward 'I am never going to kiss you' moment. He says he would like to see me again. I smile and pretend I can't speak English. And I am off. I call my friend to tell her I am on my way home.
So this time didn't work. I am sure there is a man for me on Match.com. How could there not be? There are millions of subscribers, right? So I go back on and suddenly there is an instant message from a man. Well, a boy. He is 30 years old, thinks I am sexy and wants to meet me. I laugh and tell him he is a little young for me. But wait, he doesn't want a relationship, he wants to meet me now, Saturday night at 9:30pm and have sex. He suggests that I leave my house and we meet outside and if I like what I see, we can get down to business. Are you kidding me? I am desperate but nowhere near that desperate.
And then the phone rings. The caller ID on the phone is a number I haven't seen in so long. It makes me smile. It is Bob, my high school obsession who has only recently refriended me on