One of the fascinating things about my last and only relatively normal (so I thought at the time) date is that it was absolutely impossible to tell what he looked like. He sent me a New York Magazine article about his work; there he looked like a plump 30-ish guy with curly long-ish brown hair. Then there was the faculty photo; there he looked like a toned short brown-haired 45+er. Then there was the profile photo which showed him squinting (what a horrible choice), about 35, and with red curly hair.
It is fairly safe to say that he looked bad in all of the photos, but there was a glimmer of potential. Or, shall I call that the glimmer of my delusion that one of the people on the site might not only be smart, but also be even vaguely attractive.
When I finally showed up at the bar to meet him, I was delighted to see that he was cute. Well, cute as in cute because he looks exactly like a taller version of the first guy I ever fell in love with.
He also passed a lot of the other date hurdles:
- Has pulse - check
- Can dress himself - check
- Is a man - check
- Did not ask questions about decoration or economics - check
In addition, he was quite an interesting guy. He was well travelled. Smart. Compassionate. Had a dry sense of humor...
Downsides:
I think I made him nervous - he was fidgety
His pants were too short
His voice was high pitched - the voicemail was like nails screeching on a chalkboard
And, the kicker:
Despite that he said he wanted to get together again, I am 8 years younger, equally accomplished, and far more attractive, I never heard from him again...
He must be trashing me on his blog right now
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