I had finished up after a long day of work and decided to sit down to watch the Walking Dead, as I do on a Sunday night during the season. Generally on commercial breaks I work on making dinner for myself for the week, and enjoy a few glasses of wine while I am manning these various activities. I sometimes pepper the bevy of activity with some online shopping, reading, or as of late, checking my online dating site email.
On this particular evening I found a message in my inbox from a man who had a handle (suchandsuch)Ranger. With all this dating of men in the service, I still had not been out with a Ranger and I am learning a lot about the military through these dates, so why not continue to expand my education. . .
I open the email and it was very sincere and kind. He expressed that he lived in the area, was a "nice" guy, looking for a "nice" girl and wondered if I would like to get together for a cup of coffee. I read his profile. It had a NUMBER of pictures of him, all of which portrayed him as a fit, dog loving, country loving, man of the military who looked great in plain clothes. He appeared to be tall, blond-haired and blue-eyed, but didn't really smile in any of his pictures. What, nothing to smile about? That's sad. . .
I read his profile and it was pretty basic and brief. He talked about his time with the military, his dog and how he believed in chivalry and being good to the people he dates.
Unable to really do some qualifying with this person based upon their profile, I sent him a message back. I told him I loved dogs, was interested in hearing about how one becomes a Ranger, and thought that based upon the fact that he believed that chivalry was alive and well in his universe, if he was interested, perhaps we should meet for a cup of coffee to see how we got on off line. I included my number and hit send.
A short while later, while I was now about three glasses of wine into my evening of Dead and pretending to be Betty Crocker (or Betty Ford, depending on how you look at it I guess) I received a text message from a strange number. I opened it up to find a picture of my ****Ranger and a big "HELLO!"
It struck me as odd that as an intro that this man would immediately send a picture, but he was 25 and I find that the next generation down LOVES SELFIES. Odd to me, but a good sense of self never hurts, right?
I text him back hello and how was his evening going. I was a bit tipsy at this point and really probably shouldn't have been texting a complete stranger, but this was fun at this moment. He text me back and forth about how he was a good cook (picture of dinner), enjoyed the outdoors (picture of him outdoors), loved his time as a Ranger (picture of him as a Ranger), loved his dog (pictures of him with his dog). You get the picture.
I comment on some of the pictures as much as I can keep up. He tells me that the ones that are not selfies were taken by a girl that he's friends with that has the hots for him but he doesn't care for her. Interesting share. . .
Now keep in mind, I am not sending ANY pictures back. This photo bombing is a one sided assault.
He asks if I am available tomorrow night for a cup of coffee. I await a picture of him drinking coffee. Strange, he doesn't have a picture of him drinking coffee, but I agree none-the-less. He clearly is photogenic, can cook, loves his dog, the great outdoors and has shared in great detail how he opens doors and says bless you because he wants to keep chivalry alive. . . Those details have allowed me to say yes to the date.
He tells me that he will text me tomorrow and confirm, and of course, sends a goodnight picture of him CLOTHED but in bed snuggling with his dog.
Now even in my Pinot Grigio soaked mind I know that there is no way that this man has had 22 outfit changes and cooked a full dinner to picture perfect this very evening. Sooo, this means that this guy has a ton of pictures because:
A. He's narcissistic.
B. He's a total player
C. He's a budding photographer
I immediately rule out C and despite the negative connotations with A and B, I just wanna meet this guy because I wanna know who this "Dude of 1000 Pictures" is. It's not like I haven't been on a billion bad dates by now or something.
Maybe this is the alcohol impairing my judgment. Whatever. I'll take this as my "last mistake of the day," finish my wine and head to bed to read. I knock out on my couch to Chelsea Lately and dream I have a talk show and have invited her on. Odd.
I am awakened from my nesting as a couch urchin to a 5:30am text - "Good morning. Did I mention I was a morning person?" (picture of him working out at gym)
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| Actually, it's not me. |
I am tempted to text him back "Did I mention I wasn't," but I refrain and don't send a message back. I drag my ass into my bed, put on my eye mask, shut the blinds and pass out face down in my bed to once hopefully now dream of being Oprah, or at least living her life.
6:00am - (incoming text/picture) "So are we on for tonight. How's 5?"
Have I mentioned I'm not a morning person?
Now, my dear friend Sean can attest to my wrath in the AM when you text me while I am deep in my re-slumber state.
I immediately pick up the phone and type into the keyboard, "Hey, yeah. . . tonight doesn't work for me. I had this thing come up. Can we reschedule. I'll text you later." I flip on the Do Not Disturb feature on my phone, and resolve that I can't, nor do I, want to do a planning session right now. I roll over attempting to grab one last half hour of sleep. Sleep does not come for me. I guess I will start my day. Awesome.
Later that afternoon, I decide I will reach out about the AM text and the three subsequent texts. He had expressed in his text message that sometimes when you don't meet immediately after talking (odd, I thought we were texting?), you lose that "spark".
OK Dr. Kinsey. . . So he wants to meet up, if we can, tomorrow before he goes away to a Ranger get-together in Georgia.
I let him know that tomorrow doesn't work for me. I mention that I don't feel that the "spark" thing is an issue if someone really is intent on getting to know someone. I let him know that he should have a good time at his Ranger event and if he's still interested in me when he gets back, to ring me then. I figure I'm not so thrilled with Mr. Early Riser, and will cut down with the potential of wasting time with a dude on this site that just wants to hook up.
Roughly a week later I get a text message: "Hey. I lost my phone in Georgia and didn't have a phone till today. I had to go back on line to get your number. How are you?" (picture of him in a suit and tie)
So his phone got lost at his Ranger Gymboree. . .jeez.
I reply back that I am doing well, and inquire how things are with him. We have a brief exchange of texts and he asks if I want to get together. I now have a powerfully busy schedule this week. I still want to meet the "Dude of 1000 Pictures". I'm not sure why I still want to go out with him but, well, everyone comes across differently via phone and email so maybe he's amazing in person.
We decide that we are going to meet for brunch, and he suggests the Hyatt in Morristown. I agree and put the date on my calendar.
The day of the brunch I throw on a cotton long sleeve shirt, jeans, my cowboy boots and head on over to Morristown. I arrive at the hotel and sit myself in the lobby. A short while later I see a man who looks like the man from the pictures walk in. As he walks closer I can see it is definitely him. As I stand up to greet him I am eye-to-eye with him. This is not a good start. I'm tiny and so is he. He actually looks EXACTLY like Eminem. Weird. Didn't get that front the pics, but, oh well.
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| Yeah, I'm living in NJ now |
He hugs me hello and ushers me over to the brunch area. He tells me that he comes here some times after church. We begin to sit down. I explain that I was worried I was going to be late. I had broken my sunglasses and was trying to fix them. He turned to me and laughed. I inquired why he laughed and his response was that because I was a girl, didn't I have like six other pairs of sunglasses at home. I said no and asked if I was supposed to, and he went on about how girls have all this crap at home. Odd. I don't.
We sat down to breakfast and I asked him how his Ranger convention was. He said it was fun, but wild and crazy.
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| I can't even imagine what this exercise is for. |
I asked how his new job was going, because he had mentioned a while ago he was starting a new job. He said that he had not started yet, and that he wasn't sure what was happening with it. "Well," I thought, "at least he will have a ton of time to take pictures."
We kind of muddle through the conversation. He is sweet, but truly, there is no spark. The more we talk, the less we have in common. He is polite and I am trying to come up with engaging questions to ask, but it's a lackluster performance on my part because I want the date to be over now.
He had mentioned he had somewhere to be around lunchtime. This was my out. We had been at brunch for nearly an hour, and I was so done you could stick a fork in me. He was very pleasant, but, just not for me. I mentioned that it was getting late and I also had somewhere to be. I offered to pay for my half of brunch and he said that he was happy to get the check. I thought that that was a nice gesture. I told him I would leave the tip, and so I did. He walked me to the elevator to the garages and we said goodbye and I waved.
On the drive home I was trying how to formulate how to tell this guy I had a nice time, but I didn't want to see him again. Nearly an hour later, I was sitting on my couch, still trying to put together what to say to him. He had been pleasant, but I definitely didn't want to continue with anything. Hmmm. What to say. . .
And then, as if the Universe had answered me, a text came in from our Knight. It was the picture below with they caption "I can't stop thinking about you."
He had himself in a pose I had not yet received, nor one that I wanted to see.
In disgust I deleted the message. At least this saved me from having to come up with a message back.
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