Well, it's only been 3 days, but mama didn't raise a fool. I don't expect to hear from him again. Here's the story: I have a couple of dating site profiles. One is on Plenty of Fish (POF from here on out) and the other one is on a different site that's quite popular, but the name has escaped me El Chapo-style. I get a fairly decent response to my profiles; I don't need 100 inbox messages a day because I just am NOT that much of a people person. I mean really, just UGH. Factor in that I'm not going to respond to most of them anyway because there's no need to dole out false hope. My philosophy, and I'm sticking to it. That said, I can count on one hand--with 4 fingers left over--how many times a man that I've found attractive has shown up in my inbox, and that happened Tuesday night. Ohhhhhhh he's so handsome, like if young Laurence Fishburne and Gary Dourdan made sweet love and produced a son.
What had happened was, he inboxed me with the obligatory "Hello" message. I find one-word messages and empty compliments to be a very weak way to introduce yourself to someone. I'm a conversationalist, and one word does not a convo make. I'm not so desperate yet that a "Hey sexy" from a man I don't even know can move me. BUT when you factor in a nice looking face, a tight body, and that other unnameable something that draws me to a man, well YOU get a response. ...The response won't be any more than what you originally sent though. Again, not that desperate yet. I messaged "Hi" back within 15 minutes, and nothing. I kept checking back to see if he was online and wracked my brain trying to figure out why he left me hanging...Ok, that's low-key desperate. The next day, after school, I decided to give it another go and broke my rule by sending this message: "I thought I'd say hi again since I rarely get celebrity lookalikes in my inbox." He finally responded and asked me if I wanted to meet up that evening after he got off work. I honestly wasn't expecting a meetup for a month, if ever. I'm that chick who drags ish out because he just might be a serial killer, like I'd know that right off the bat or something. After some schedule synchronization, we decided to meet up at the Starbucks in the neighboring town to mine since he could cut through there on his way home from work. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, took a ho bath (Google it), and put on something cute. Chiiiiiiild, I was not disappointed by what I saw when I got to the Starbucks. Six feet of caramel goodness with a pink shirt and grey slacks hugging in all the right places...*WINNING*. He hugged me and I had a chance to feel all of that lucious wonderfulness. Again, *WINNING*.
We only had a half-hour to chat. We got to Starbucks at 8:30 and they close at 9...small-town life, I tell ya. In retrospect, the conversation, though pleasant, seemed like an interview for a job I wound up not getting. Questions about what it's like in my town, my hobbies, travel, were answered to the best of my knowledge, but he's been around the world one and a half times and will drive anywhere. I, on the other hand, hate interstates and merging into traffic and don't even have a passport. When he asked what I liked to do, I told him read and write. I also foolishly let slip that I'm a blogger. He wanted to know more about it, but I wouldn't share. Nobody in my real life knows about this except my cousin, a soror, a guy I used to like, and maybe 2 others. I like it that way. I mean, HIM, reading THIS post?! Oh, HELL to the naw!!! I guess that was a massive eff up on my part, but it is what it is, and I can't make it what it ain't...Hm, I don't know what to think. Thirty minutes isn't long to get to know someone. I may have my flaws and limitations, but I know I'm special because Mr. Fred Rogers told me so when I was little. HA!
A second interview would be nice, but I haven't heard nay peep out of him since I called him back requesting that he text me when he got back home so I'd know he got there safely. Maybe he's dead. What's more likely is that he just wasn't as interested as he'd been when I was nothing more than a pretty pic on POF. I guess I should have seen that writing on the wall. POF allows you to see when someone is active online and who has viewed your profile. HE NEVER VIEWED MY PROFILE. He just saw my picture and sent a message which leads me to believe he does that on any profile with a picture that pleases his eye. I guess I should be grateful that I was even allowed to be on a leg of his pretty girl world tour. That won't keep me warm at night, marry me or knock me up though. Am I jumping the gun? Perhaps. I believe many women see men they're attracted to and envision weddings and babies. Men just think about sex. I only have a few eggs and a bit of daylight left, so I'm on a mission. My bestie met her husband on POF, so this is a thing that can happen.
Have I ever mentioned that I'm a social media snoop extraordinaire? Tis true. I tracked him down on Facebook using his first name and city and found out his last name, which I immediately paired with my first. It had a nice ring to it, I must say. Something else I found out: He has at least 2 children and 1 grandchild, although his POF account said he had no children. I prefer men without kids so if we get married, we can embark on the journey of first-time parenthood together plus I can do without baby mama drama. My sorority sister said that he may have done that because they're grown, so technically they are no longer children. As far as I'm concerned, if you are a mother or father you have CHILDREN, even if you're 100 years old and your kid is 80. Come on, now.
Ah, my sorority sis also said that this could be his way of seeing what's out there. I guess we all have our MO's. Another thing she said was that the Lord will remove things and people from your life that you don't need, even if it does come in a pretty, sexy, tall package with perfectly straight teeth unaided by orthodontia (that in retrospect I hope like hell weren't dentures)...
I guess I let ALL of my crazy out on this post. But do you know how long it's been since I've truly enjoyed the company of a man? Do you know how long it's been since I received attention from a man I found attractive? Do you know how long it's been since I had sex (although I now refer to myself as celibate by default with plans to keep my skirt down til I'm married)? No? Well, I'll tell you: A VERY long time. I'd actually resigned myself to a lifetime of spinsterhood with books and cats to keep me entertained. This little glimmer of hope had me on cloud 9 for about 36 hours. My feet are back on the ground now, and oh, how they hurt.
What had happened was, he inboxed me with the obligatory "Hello" message. I find one-word messages and empty compliments to be a very weak way to introduce yourself to someone. I'm a conversationalist, and one word does not a convo make. I'm not so desperate yet that a "Hey sexy" from a man I don't even know can move me. BUT when you factor in a nice looking face, a tight body, and that other unnameable something that draws me to a man, well YOU get a response. ...The response won't be any more than what you originally sent though. Again, not that desperate yet. I messaged "Hi" back within 15 minutes, and nothing. I kept checking back to see if he was online and wracked my brain trying to figure out why he left me hanging...Ok, that's low-key desperate. The next day, after school, I decided to give it another go and broke my rule by sending this message: "I thought I'd say hi again since I rarely get celebrity lookalikes in my inbox." He finally responded and asked me if I wanted to meet up that evening after he got off work. I honestly wasn't expecting a meetup for a month, if ever. I'm that chick who drags ish out because he just might be a serial killer, like I'd know that right off the bat or something. After some schedule synchronization, we decided to meet up at the Starbucks in the neighboring town to mine since he could cut through there on his way home from work. I washed my face, brushed my teeth, took a ho bath (Google it), and put on something cute. Chiiiiiiild, I was not disappointed by what I saw when I got to the Starbucks. Six feet of caramel goodness with a pink shirt and grey slacks hugging in all the right places...*WINNING*. He hugged me and I had a chance to feel all of that lucious wonderfulness. Again, *WINNING*.
We only had a half-hour to chat. We got to Starbucks at 8:30 and they close at 9...small-town life, I tell ya. In retrospect, the conversation, though pleasant, seemed like an interview for a job I wound up not getting. Questions about what it's like in my town, my hobbies, travel, were answered to the best of my knowledge, but he's been around the world one and a half times and will drive anywhere. I, on the other hand, hate interstates and merging into traffic and don't even have a passport. When he asked what I liked to do, I told him read and write. I also foolishly let slip that I'm a blogger. He wanted to know more about it, but I wouldn't share. Nobody in my real life knows about this except my cousin, a soror, a guy I used to like, and maybe 2 others. I like it that way. I mean, HIM, reading THIS post?! Oh, HELL to the naw!!! I guess that was a massive eff up on my part, but it is what it is, and I can't make it what it ain't...Hm, I don't know what to think. Thirty minutes isn't long to get to know someone. I may have my flaws and limitations, but I know I'm special because Mr. Fred Rogers told me so when I was little. HA!
A second interview would be nice, but I haven't heard nay peep out of him since I called him back requesting that he text me when he got back home so I'd know he got there safely. Maybe he's dead. What's more likely is that he just wasn't as interested as he'd been when I was nothing more than a pretty pic on POF. I guess I should have seen that writing on the wall. POF allows you to see when someone is active online and who has viewed your profile. HE NEVER VIEWED MY PROFILE. He just saw my picture and sent a message which leads me to believe he does that on any profile with a picture that pleases his eye. I guess I should be grateful that I was even allowed to be on a leg of his pretty girl world tour. That won't keep me warm at night, marry me or knock me up though. Am I jumping the gun? Perhaps. I believe many women see men they're attracted to and envision weddings and babies. Men just think about sex. I only have a few eggs and a bit of daylight left, so I'm on a mission. My bestie met her husband on POF, so this is a thing that can happen.
Have I ever mentioned that I'm a social media snoop extraordinaire? Tis true. I tracked him down on Facebook using his first name and city and found out his last name, which I immediately paired with my first. It had a nice ring to it, I must say. Something else I found out: He has at least 2 children and 1 grandchild, although his POF account said he had no children. I prefer men without kids so if we get married, we can embark on the journey of first-time parenthood together plus I can do without baby mama drama. My sorority sister said that he may have done that because they're grown, so technically they are no longer children. As far as I'm concerned, if you are a mother or father you have CHILDREN, even if you're 100 years old and your kid is 80. Come on, now.
Ah, my sorority sis also said that this could be his way of seeing what's out there. I guess we all have our MO's. Another thing she said was that the Lord will remove things and people from your life that you don't need, even if it does come in a pretty, sexy, tall package with perfectly straight teeth unaided by orthodontia (that in retrospect I hope like hell weren't dentures)...
I guess I let ALL of my crazy out on this post. But do you know how long it's been since I've truly enjoyed the company of a man? Do you know how long it's been since I received attention from a man I found attractive? Do you know how long it's been since I had sex (although I now refer to myself as celibate by default with plans to keep my skirt down til I'm married)? No? Well, I'll tell you: A VERY long time. I'd actually resigned myself to a lifetime of spinsterhood with books and cats to keep me entertained. This little glimmer of hope had me on cloud 9 for about 36 hours. My feet are back on the ground now, and oh, how they hurt.
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