Originally posted on 06/03/2005 8:55pm
It's Friday night and I am ready for bed. Last night, the two girls who live next door to me decided to throw a party. Everytime someone would knock on their door, a rousing chorus of drunken yells would rise up to my bedroom window. It reminded me of CHEERS whenever Norm would visit. The thump-thump-thump of music lasted until 4:45 a.m. I think I got maybe 3 hours total of sleep last night. Needless to say, I'm kinda sleepy now.
Let's start my internet dating stories with the letter "A". I met "A" about 5 years ago. I had placed an ad on one of those more-popular dating websites. We wrote back and forth for a couple of weeks. He seemed nice enough. Then, we exchanged photos. I sent a nice little photo of me laughing with some friends. He sent me back what could be called "Male Boudoir Photography." He was lying on a bed, on his side, with a sheet pooled around his waist. The sheet was some kind of shiny material. Probably not real silk or satin, but one of the Wal-mart variations. Sateen or something. He had a knee bent and an assortment of unused condoms spread on the bed beside him. His reddish-blonde hair was mussed as if he had just gotten good use of those sateen sheets and condoms. The picture made me giggle.... and in a twisted way, kinda turned me on. I printed it and showed it to my co-workers the very next day. They immediately decided that I had to meet this guy so that I could see if he was the real deal. I emailed "A" that I wanted to meet and we agreed on a restaurant near my job. Well, the guy who showed up was NOT the guy in the photo. The guy who showed up looked like Barney Rubble. No joke. I checked the parking lot for a stone-age vehicle he had driven to the diner with his feet. As we were eating, he said to me, "I have a confession to make. I'm an off and on recovering coke addict. I just thought you should know." I didn't know what to say. I nodded politely and asked how things were going with that and instead of answering me, he asked me what kind of car I drove, where I worked, how much I made, if my car was paid for and if I rented/owned my own home. I didn't know if he was a date or a telemarketer. I had the feeling he was trying to see if I could help finance his little habit. I dodged the questions with half-truths and funny stories and then when we left the restaurant, he said, "You sure are pretty. Can I have a hug good bye?" I said, "Ya know, it's about 90 degrees out and I don't really feel like hugging. No offense." He nodded and sort of schlumped away. He sent me a couple of e-mails after our date, but I just couldn't bring myself to encourage the relationship. I don't know what bothered me more-- than he was an "off and on recovering coke addict" or that he wasn't the "come see me sometime" guy in the sateen sheet.
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