I’ve mentioned ‘KEDS’ at least two or three times now, and it’s not fair that you don’t have a clue what I’m talking about…plus, it’s pretty entertaining if I do say so myself.
Match dot com. I’ll skip the backstory and just say that I decided to give the site a try. The following is a ‘real life’ story from last year, rehashing the shenanigans with one of my so-called ’matches’. Prepare to laugh your face off.
He started it.
Let me explain. The way Match.com works is, if you have a profile, you can: view profiles, “wink” at someone you’re interested in, or message someone you’re interested in. If you view someone’s profile, they will know you viewed them. The “wink” is, I guess what you would call “putting a feeler out.” In other words, if you wink, and they wink back, you know they’re interested. Or, obviously, you can skip that step, and just send them a message. In Eric’s case, he winked at me, I read through his profile, took a gander at his TWO photos (for future reference, THREE, is a good round number for pictures, and at least two of them should be front-facing), and decided to wink back. We exchanged a few emails, and then exchanged numbers (for texting, because we all know how I am about talking on the phone). This all transpired over a few days. Ironically, he had recently moved to Nashville, and just so happens I had planned to attend a show there the following weekend. On my profile, I mention that I’m in Nashville often for shows, so when he asked when I’d be in town next, I told him about the show I was planning to go to. He suggested that if I didn’t already have plans to meet with someone, that he wouldn’t mind joining me, I didn’t mind, and so, the “date” was set. I had a funny feeling he wasn’t gonna be my cup of tea, and let this be a testament: TRUST YOUR FIRST INSTINCT. I really should have known when I sent him a text to tell him I was close to the venue, and he sent one back that said “yay”….um, “yay”? See the pic below? That’s my “Where They Do That At?” face (from henceforth to be referred to as WTDTA)…and in case you don’t know what that phrase means,
just look at that face. Anyway, so I walk in the door, and am looking around, and he waves me over…except, he’s already sitting at the table with another girl. Turns out, his co-worker decided to join us on our “date”? I mean, WTDTA? Are we fourteen again? But, I digress. So, that whole “a woman knows if she’ll date/sleep with/etc. a man, within the first five minutes of seeing/meeting him” thing is totally true. Actually, I think it’s more like thirty seconds. Let me at least say this, he was a nice guy…just not for ME. A play by play isn’t necessary here, but maybe just the highlights? I’ve already covered the fact that he brought another woman on our date, yes? Did I mention he was actually trying to carry this date on, with her at the table? “So, tell me more about your travels, Robyn?” Um, awkward. Okay, moving right along. He’s a musician…but, not the kind of musician you may be thinking. He does kid’s music and was apparently working on some sort of character named RockIt Man or something, where he’d put on live rock shows for kids in the 3-5 age group? Was in the process of launching a website, had a costume, the whole nine. So, at some point before the show starts, he whips out his Iphone to show me the photos of him in his costume. That was like…what WAS that like? It was sort of like one of those moments when someone shows you their baby’s photo and you don’t know what to say so you say something like “awww, he/she is such a…baby”. I mean, I really didn’t have any words–it was him, in what looked like an Evil Kneivel outfit, complete with flashing lights…need a visual? Something like this:
But with lights….flashing lights.
Since I was as flabbergasted as you probably are right now, all I could manage to say was, “ohhh. wooow, um…that’s….different.” At one point, I glanced over at him, and noticed his shoes (because he had his legs crossed, but I’m not even going to get into that) and I had this EXACT thought, “are those mothereffing KEDS?” I mean, if any of you reading this own a pair of Keds, more power to you, I just didn’t know that Keds were still being manufactured, much less being worn by MEN. He also sat with his hands balled into fists, with a forearm and a clenched fist resting on each thigh, like he was either waiting for someone to figure out “which hand is the coin in?” or challenge him to an arm wrestling duel. Not in an aggressive way…just, weird. And, and, and at the end of EVERY song, he would clap, but not like a guy would clap…because, you know, guys clap with their hands cupped, right? Well, when he clapped, he looked a lot like this:
And after the mantis clap, he would say, “that was so good.” Which, I mean, I agreed, but, after the first nine songs, I figured that point had already been driven home, fed dinner, and put to bed. Apparently, I was wrong, because he kept that whole mantis/compliment routine up the whole night. I really enjoyed the show, but honestly, I couldn’t wait to get the hell out of there. So when it was all over, he walked me to my car, with his hand on my back [insert blank stare] and told me he “had a blast.” He also mentioned that since we didn’t really get a chance to talk, he’d like to drive to Huntsville the next weekend to hang out again. I don’t know why I didn’t just tell him no then, I really should have, but I just didn’t have the heart…or maybe the backbone? I really should have “manned-up” because I had absolutely no intention of ever hanging out with him again. Like, ever. Yeah, so…there’s that.
Remember grade school, when dating was as simple as:
God, I miss those days.
Until next time…
[ ♥ ] . Peace. And Bacon Grease.