chat

Later…I Promise

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I favorited him. He messaged me. Likes my photos. Likes my profile. Do I want to chat or, better, meet for coffee? OK! Here’s my number. I prefer meeting to phone date…awkward and counterproductive. Call or text and we can set something up. Or message me back on site.

You, readers, already know where I’m going with this…nowhere. Right. Is it out of the question I’ll hear from him? Of course not. Sitting by the phone? Definitely not. But our phones are generally sitting by us, so we keep checking. Like waiting for college acceptance or that million dollars from Publishers Clearing House. Refresh.

The problem, according to me, is that getting in touch feels more like making a doctor’s appointment than something we optimistically anticipate. We’ll message later. Remind ourselves to follow up. Just…not right now.

Fantasy Date

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It was around midnight on a Friday or Saturday night, and I was checking in on one of my dating sites. As a rule I turn off the live chat features, mostly because I can’t multi-task. I can’t say why, but that night the feature was active and I found myself chatting with a man who definitely did not seem my type (nor I his).

This is a good time to tell you; I’m a bit of an innocent.

Our “conversation” was easy, about golf, golf lessons, golf courses. I don’t quite play golf yet, but I’ve been dabbling. Took a couple of lessons. Bought a golf skirt.

He started telling me about his work with women’s shoes. Very high end, very high heels. We chatted about our preferences in hard liquor. That we were both night owls. About clubbing (not for me).

Then back to the high heels. He was SURE I’d like them, and that they’d look great on me. I laughed (“hahaha”), said we’re clearly not a match, and we signed off.

It was a while before I realized that I’d totally missed his cues. This wasn’t a chat; it was a fantasy date, and I was a no-show.