Anonymous enough for you, honey?
So I took recently took yet another stab at the online dating world, and let me tell you: my level of motivation to put myself out there on the Interwebz, talking about how much I love to be "fun" and "easy going" has hit a staggeringly low point. Case in point: I had signed up for Plenty of Fish MONTHS ago. Perhaps YEARS ago, but just never got around to completing the profile portion of it. I'd get emails on a weekly basis from my friends at the site, urging me to "cast a line and see what you catch!" Oh, yes, I get it with the whole fishing motif. Yeah, yeah, you're real funny. So I finally finished my profile (or barely wrestled through it, between my thoughts of "Oh hell, who cares if I'm a spinster, I make cat fur on all my clothes look good!") and set back out.
Good lawd. Who sent all these men the memo that it's okay to just post pictures of your midsection? Congratulations, I can use your abs to wash my clothes, but chances are that's all you're good for. Move it along...
I was supremely lazy and didn't even upload a picture, but there was actually a less-lazy reason behind all the lazy. I wanted to see what kind of response I got with no picture, or maybe just with one selfie. I immediately had a few suitors ask for my pictures.
But this one dude messaged me "Hey Jane! How's it going?" or something to that effect. How low are my standards for online dating? This low: he managed to find out my first name and use it in a sentence. It's really not all that hard to impress me. So I messaged him back and we started talking. He seemed like a smart guy, had minimal spelling mistakes and no grammatical errors, which you all know are my top three qualities on my "Is This Guy Marriage Material" checklist.
The other thing I don't really like about online dating is that the apps are all kinds of obnoxious to manage. This could be because I'm still rocking the Nokia brick phone from the days of Yore, but regardless, to me it's always easier to text message whilst pretending to work than having to dink around with going through an app and having it load and then have other dudes send all sorts of "dtf" and "hey cutie you've got some purdy lips" messages.
Get this thing set up with a data plan and the world can be back on track.
Mr. Ed and I texted pretty consistently for the first few days, and talked about the normal small talk topics about which you converse with strangers: spirituality, our dating pasts, interracial dating (and the complexity of such a dynamic), and goals we want to accomplish in life.
It was pretty obvious that I wanted to meet up with Mr. Ed and he wanted to meet with me, if the stable would let him stay out of his stall after bedtime, and was trying to find a good place that would allow talking equines into the venue. I had told my mom I was going on a date with a stranger from the Internet, and that he probably had a plan not unlike the kind Dr. Reed from Criminal Minds has to uncover with the help of his (pretty hot) science team. She didn't seem too thrilled. Finally, we met up and besides the whole "needing to bring his own bale of hay to nosh on" issue, things went fine. There was more discussion about life, goals, and pretty much everything we could think of.
This is Mr. Ed's "Come Hither" face...
And that's about it, really. We've been dating for a few weeks, and the other day I got a text from him asking if I was going to write about him on the blog. I asked him if he had indeed read anything from my blog and if he had been drinking heavily before sending that text. Seemingly, my worldly charms, my amazing cooking abilities (and possibly the rohypnol...) have rendered him so senseless that he has agreed to be featured occasionally on this here writin' blog. Maybe I can even manage to wrangle an "interview" out of him. Bwahaha...
EDIT: After The Horse Of Course read this post, he said, "I figure it'd be more juicy!!" So, to appease him (and to appease myself, juuuuust a little bit) ...here you go. A little bit of Juice.
Lord have mercy...
[Add to To-Do List: Figure out a good way to explain to Google that I wasn't looking "roofies" up for any other reason but to spell the drug's actual name.]