The Knight That Almost Was

This is what I get for perusing men like shoes.

I came across the email of this almost-Knight in my inbox and should have listened to that little voice inside of me that said "you know that this isn't going to be what you think it is. The universe laughs at you regularly lady."

The picture was too perfect. And well, it sort of looked familiar. I couldn’t place it. Don’t blame me. I’m happy I can remember what I had for breakfast this morning.  Beyond that, part of my mental blockage is  I have met probably thousands of people. No really. Thousands of people.  Years of roller derby, traveling the world, being just generally outgoing and don’t forget the many, many conventions I have attended for a myriad of employers. Yes. I have probably met an entire stadium of people and well, I think that is a conservative estimate.

I imagine my wedding looking kind of like this.

One of the downfalls of this gregarious and outgoing lifestyle is you just are not sure where you met people or even sometimes, even who they are. I am self admittedly HORRID with remembering peoples names.

I can recall asking one of my best friends while we were working together one night if a man at a table nearby was some I had dated. 

Where that isn’t bad enough, I have often walked up to complete strangers and totally mistaken them for someone else.

Take case in point. My bestie and I are walking down the street.  From about a block away I see who I think is Mark Sanchez the Jet’s quarterback. I have met Mark on a number of occasions while living and working in Morristown and therefore don’t feel weird walking up and saying "hi". 

Not to miss this opportunity to say hello to my old acquaintance I shout out, “Hey Mark!” And begin feverishly waving hello. 

I am now shoved off the sidewalk by my friend. 

“What the hell was that for?” I cry out.

“That’s Chris Humphries you idiot.” 

Come on. From a distance, maybe??

"Well what was he doing with Kim Kardashian? I thought they were divorced?" I respond. 

She runs her hand down her face in aggravation.  "That wasn't Kim Kardashian either dear."

You catch my drift.

Staring at this profile I am intrigued by the picture, and the handle is a reference to Greek mythology which piques my interest. I think that his dark rugged looks and fresh face in what was a poor gym outfit was strangely attractive. 

I clicked on the email and it was short and direct. He said he had come across my profile and wanted to say hello. He inquired if I still lived in the Morristown area and if I would be interested in grabbing a drink. He signed the note "Rick".

He only had two pictures of himself. One of him in work out gear as the profile picture and one of him in what looked like a friend had taken a glamour shot. It looked like both pictures had been re touched, but these days, it's easy enough to re-touch your own photos so maybe it's just that he's an avid photo guy? I just kept looking at the two pictures. Was this the same guy in both shots. I couldn't tell. They looked like they were similar, but there was just something fishy about this.

I looked at his "stats". He was 34, worked in finance and described himself as someone into fitness and travel. In his pictures he looked Greek, I thought. His "about me" was brief, citing that he was new to the site, was happy to share info about himself with those who inquired, and interested in meeting someone to "date".

I wasn't sure that I wanted to meet this guy so much to potentially date, rather than to have a re-con mission to find out if this guy was who he really was in his pictures.

I just couldn't shake that the main profile picture looked so familiar.  . .

At this point of the blog I was on a dating bender. I figured if I just got through the last few dates that were rostered I could now be back to a normal life.  It's the way I likened feeling when I knew I was in the last 100 yards and close to the finish line. You can pass out once you are over the line, but you just have to motor to get to the end of it until then. I was severely dating fatigued at this point and just wanted this 30 date spree to be over.

I emailed him back to see if he was interested in meeting for a drink in Morristown. He offered to meet me at the Westin.

Um, I'm not too keen on meeting at hotels, but I had been there before for dinner, and he mentioned wanting to get a bite to eat. I was happy to have a tasty meal at the Blue Morel on the ground floor of the Westin so I agreed to meet that Sunday evening.

After sending emails back and forth, he had text me on and off on the days leading up to the meeting. Your typical hello, how was your day, sort of stuff.

All this while I am still wondering how I seem to know this man's picture. At one point he had asked me to send him a picture of myself so he had a reference for when we met. Whatever dude.

I sent the same picture I always send. Something from the neck up, smiling and looking wholesome. Generally in a cotton shirt and a casual hair do, cause, well that's the way I roll.

I then asked him to send me a picture of him. This is where it got interesting.  At first he sent the same picture that he had on his profile. I saved this into my pictures and then text it along to a friend to consult with someone more opt to knowing who this person might be. It was just seering my brain that I couldn't place why this picture looked so familiar.  

I figured I was still a few hours out from meeting this guy so why not call him out to NOT get Catfished again.

I told him that I had been in receipt of the last picture but did he have another one that he could send on.

Now a new phone number popped up in my text messages. This person however wasn't the same name of the Greek guy I had been talking to but "Rick" had now turned into "Ricardo" and the picture that was attached to this phone number only reminded me of one person:

Who the Christ was this picture of?? This wasn't my Greek God? This guy looked like his old, miniature, mariachi band uncle?? 

I'm not even joking.

The next picture that came a few minutes later from this new Ricardo email looked more like this:

Was this supposed to be the "moneyshot" that was going to cause me to say, "You're profile picture looks NOTHING AT ALL LIKE YOU and you have been LYING TO ME FROM THE START, but HELL YEAH, let's go out anyway?"

I was somewhere between horrified and perplexed.  I had sent on the original picture from the profile pic on the dating site to my friend and I hadn't heard back from her.

I pinged her via text again.

"Look who sent me some 'more recent' photos of himself!" I exclaimed and attached the new photos to the text.

What I got back made me laugh so hard I nearly peed my pants.

"Well, I didn't think you were going out with Zac Efron."she replied.

"What do you mean, 'you didn't think I was going out with Zach Efron'. Who the Christ is Zac Efron?????"

"You know, that guy from the movie The Lucky One? Haven't you seen it?" she inquired.

I guess I live in a vacuum?? Or maybe this is what happens when you don't watch schmaltzy chick flicks. I am part of like 8% of America that doesn't know who this person is. I must just know him from E television or from movie posters or promos and that's why he looked so darn familiar without me still having a clue who it was.

So I googled "Zach Ephron" and wa-la.  There emerged two of my "Knight's" pictures.

After my Knight that Almost Was had sent the second picture he asked why I had not responded.  "Did you not like the picture?"he asked.

I just can't. . . .

I couldn't tell if he thought or hoped I was blind and dumb. In any case. There was no date as scheduled a few hours later. I told him I wasn't able to go, and that perhaps we weren't a good fit after all. To this day he still sends me pictures of some man that looks like the man from Treasure Island who I can only assume is the real Ricardo.  I would really tell him to stop, but sometimes when I am having a crappy day, the thought that he thinks I'm a moron totally amuses me.