Just think…. It was only a few days ago when I was joyfully posting about an exciting first meeting and date!
The Score was very promising because we got along marvellously over the telephone and had so much in common. He was smart, witty, funny, and like me – preferred the creative side vs the stagnant environment we both complained about in corporate America. The two of us were pretty well traveled and joked about not being able to date anyone who did not have a passport. The Score and I love, love, love music! Shared a commonality of simple things like people watching, writing, creating something out of a joke or crazy idea, and most importantly- our desires to settle down.
Thinking back, I have bittersweet recollections of the many hours and seemingly endless conversations, resulting in sleep deprived stupors the morning after.
Do you remember those types of calls? You know that old school feeling of being completely stimulated and turned on from a conversation? When it seems as if you’ve nearly revert back to the days of high school with someone saying “I’ll let you go to bed and get some rest” and the other saying “But I want to keep talking”.
I was really excited to finally match the person with the voice and words that had me wondering if this could be a keeper.
Taking my anticipation and desire to finally link up with someone so compatible, I even told a girlfriend the day before “Even if he isn’t all that fine in person, I would STILL date him because he is that type of guy, a rare find”. She asked what it was that was so different and commented she was shocked to hear me say that but wished me luck.
Now if you haven’t noticed yet, everything I’ve written so far is past tense- WAS, HAD etc.
So how did it go?
The Four Seasons in Beverly Hills is a great spot and is a beautiful venue! The food and service is great and I definitely will go there again, perhaps on another date. Oh yes, I will definitely be back BUT without The Score who’s name has officially been changed to FRAUD!!!!!!!!
This fucker was HIDEOUS.
Here is how a woman’s hopes went from 60 to zero in twenty seconds. How my demeanor went from “get it girl” to “shit no”. How I felt like someone who had just spent their last dollar on a scratcher lottery ticket and didn’t win. How I felt like the girl who had fun times with three different men and took that pregnancy test and saw a plus sign. How I felt like the person who wrote that check and forgot to transfer funds. Has the magnitude of my disappointment been made crystal clear yet?
The Score aka The Fraud committed the most criminal of acts when it comes to online dating – misrepresentation by Photoshop.
Here’s how it all went down…
When I pulled my sexy self up to valet and the attendant opened the door, I stepped out of my car with just the right amount of leg showing as I caught a glimpse of him out of my peripheral. Something didn’t feel quite right, but ignored that feeling and looked around until my eyes were fixed in one spot. As soon as I took a good look at what was sitting on the bench (yes, I said what NOT who) was waiting for me, these little chimes went off inside my head. When The Fraud stood up, bells went off and when he smiled and revealed his teeth, atomic bomb sirens began wailing.
His profile SAID he was 5’9. Liar. After the date I even went back and viewed his profile again before I blocked his ass to make sure I wasn’t losing it. I am 5’2 and had on a modest 3 inch heel and when he came in for a hug, I was over his head. You do the math.
The profile picture he’d sent to me and even the follow up photo once we’d exchanged information depicted a man taller than his actual 5’1 or so height. I had the photos reviewed by a panel of experts (my friends) and they all agreed with me that the angling of the shots created an illusion.
The photos he shared led me to believe that he was a nice looking man, but only one was of him smiling and it was a little blurry. Almost as it had either been blown up from a much smaller image or tweaked to remove the sharpness. The Fraud said he was a very nice looking man, damn near beating the women off like flies! I’m exaggerating but he was quite confident in his appearance. LIAR.
And for goodness sake- the teeth were awful. Do you remember the movie from the last 80’s or so called Critters? If you’re not able to think back that far, take a trip down Google Images lane. I swear, his bottom teeth looked JUST like one of those little monsters. Awful, tons of spaces and the top were so large I wondered if it hurt to force his mouth closed and they were yellow. I’m talking yellow and stained to the point of me wondering if those 5 minute strips he’d purchased were butter strips versus whitening strips. Yuck!
I know, I know. I’m going really hard and if it was just a matter of him not looking exactly like his photos, this would all be a moot point. That isn’t the case. The Fraud’s photos were modified to the point of his entire facial and head structure were completely different and shit- you can embellish 5’6 to 5’8 but you can’t say “a little short” to being a dwarf, right?
Yes, yes, yes- we clicked! We got along greatly but there was absolutely no attraction there, and I was actually a little repulsed. I tried to find something – that nice skin, a dimple, great smile, nicely dressed. Something but I couldn’t. In fact, I didn’t even mention what he was wearing which for the most part was appropriate but no matter how nice you think your arms may be, wearing a sized Smedium shirt is not cool. It was soooooo tight. Ugh.
Still, I stuck it out and must say that if I ever wondered about a possible career in acting, I aced the audition Sunday! I did not skip a beat, and carried on as my usual jovial and snarky self and could tell he was really feeling me and had no clue that everything we’d discussed and shared within the 3 days leading up to our meeting was blowing away like a poot in the wind.
In fact, as he sat across the table coaxing me to hurry with my meal so I could come and sit next to him, I couldn’t help but want to scream. Instead, I scooted away to the ladies room and sent out a flurry of SOS messages and even called Special Agent, flustered and annoyed that I was experiencing yet another sorry experience. Of course, I jokingly blamed him and of course, you’re wondering how he is even in the communication realm.
A series of sexually charged advances and comments, him attempting to get just one more kiss because I was so delectable and the good old “I’ve got to pick up my kid” excuse saved the day. The Fraud was disappointed because he was thinking we would have hung out longer.
A few more of his hugs, my closed mouth kiss to his tongue thrusting attempts to open my mouth, him telling me to fell how big it is and asking if I wanted it, and him asking when we can make it official and be a couple, I was free.
It was just me and my music as I rode off in the sun. Pissed, disappointed, feeling hopeless.
After chatting with Kim (in between her laughter), she sent me a lovely template message for The Fraud. In light of everything feeling hoodwinked and bamboozled, I still was considerate of the guy’s feelings and didn’t want to be mean about it. So in a matter of a few lines by text (don’t judge me), I wished The Fraud good luck in his search and that was the end.
Until there’s a cure…
God help me!