Well the hunt is back on for Miranda. You know there’s no better than philosophy than finding the next one to help you get over the last one. So I ventured into the wild blue yonder and re-opened my Plenty of Fish account. And good lord it’s on overload already.
Why would I subject myself to the world of online dating again? Because it’s worked out so well over the last year? Because I’ve met so many wonderful people on there before? Because I’m a hopeless romantic who thinks maybe, just maybe I’ll stumble upon my Prince Charming? No dear readers, it’s for you and your pure entertainment.
Miranda’s been a good girl and I intend to keep being that way but a girl has to have a social life! And I’m certainly not going to return to my power dating ways but you never know when you might find someone who’s crazy cancels out your own crazy.
I set it up late Tuesday night and by last night I had 5-6 pages of messages. Sheesh! They sure do like “new” blood around there. There were you normal variety of freaks, geeks, and weirdos with some random seemingly normal (which really means just wait till the crazy comes out) guys in between. Interestingly I seem to be attracting a lot of younger guys, like late 20s and early 30s. Normally I seem to pull in the old men but maybe something about my new profile appeals to them this time.
Shortly after I signed on I got hit up with a chat request. I checked out the guy’s profile and he seemed cute so we started chatting. Before long we switched to Facebook chatting because it’s easier and allows me to stalk the guy’s page at the same time as we’re talking. So right off the bat this guy seemed to have potential. He’s 6’5 (you know I love a giant) and a ginger of the Prince Harry nature. He’s 34, never married, no random kids.
Flag number one – he’s in nursing school and works part time as a waiter. Now I’m not against a person trying to better themselves but being a “grown up” dating a “college kid” just doesn’t sound that appealing. Plus he’s got to be broker than hell and if you have been around long enough to remember my manifesto, I need a guy who makes more money than me!
Flag number two is an alarming number of posts on his wall lamenting “yet another breakup” or that “another girl broke his heart.” Now we all know those crazy people on Facebook who put all their business out there but for a guy to do it over and over and over… Well that’s just a bit much. And more than a little reminiscent of Duckie back when I could still see his wall.
Flag number three occurred while we were chatting. We were asking questions back and forth and I asked him if he was interested in staying in this area (it was all over his Facebook page that he wanted to move away). He said he plan was to stay here another two years to finish school and start working and then he wanted to move to Florida. I noted that I’d love to move to Hawaii one day but I had 13 years before that was an option for me. He immediately countered with, “Well I don’t really have to move and I’m making all these plans without someone special in my life. Things could change.” I gently told him if it really was his dream to move away he should do that a’la Gwyn and that he shouldn’t give that up for anything.
Flag number four came up when I asked if he wanted kids of his own. He said he did and that he would love to adopt too. He asked if I wanted more kids and I said no that I already had kids of my own. And if I did adopt it would have to be older kids out of foster care. Again, this didn’t faze him a bit.
Up until flags 5-8 that you’re about to read, he seemed sweet, naïve, and well meaning. I could literally imagine Duckie having this same approach and conversation with any number of the girls he courted online or in real life. It was very much the same approach based on what I saw via email and Facebook last year.
And then things took a twist. The fifth, sixth, seventh and eighth flags occurred by him asking me to come over to his apartment last night for dinner (it was already almost 9 pm), when I lost my virginity (he lost his at 20), if I thought sex was an important part of a relationship (he’s a self declared nympho when he’s in love), and finally when he asked what my favorite sex position was. As soon as he asked that last gem I declared the conversation at a conclusion.
Poor kid wanted to meet for coffee today but I have a feeling if I’d actually went and met him he’d either
A – Knock me out and I’d wake up in a hole with him telling me “it puts the lotion on or it gets the hose again.”
B – Roofie me and I’d wake up in Vegas with a honking big diamonique ring on my hand
C – Or follow me back to work and stalk me endlessly by recreating the scene from Say Anything where John Cusack holds a boom box over his head and Peter Gabriele’s In Your Eyes plays on endless loop.
Too bad though because it would have been fun to figure out if all Ginger’s are prone to shouting out Oh Boy!