Source Jockey

As Julie Andrews said in “The Sound of Music”, “Let’s start at the very beginning; a very good place to start…”  So I’ll tell you about my first meeting.  After…I’ll give my post-mordem–why I thought it went badly, what I learned.  Enjoy!

So back in 1999, when this all started, I joined a website to meet someone to go out with.  My intent, as I recall, was to find a girlfriend; I had just gotten out of a long relationship, and really didn’t know any better.  As I perused the profiles, most of which lacked photos, I came across a promising one.  Described as cute, tall, slim, brown hair and green eyes, she had similar interests, and that led me to message her.  Despite the fact she didn’t have photos, I decided to take the plunge and meet her.

We decided to meet on a Saturday, and grab lunch.  She didn’t have a car, so she asked me to pick her up.  She lived in North Hollywood, and so about 30 minutes of driving later, I pulled into her driveway…which was comprised of dirt.  Her house looked like the last time it had been painted was around the time paint was invented; the chain link fence surrounding the house was easily 10 feet tall, and the other vegetation in the yard was a healthy shade of brown.

She bounded out of the house as I pulled in; imagine my shock to find that she was not cute, tall, slim, or have brown hair.  Her green eyes were only green due to some cheap colored contacts, and to be honest, I was not expecting her to be Asian.  She got in the car.  ”Hello,” she said with a rather heavy accent.  ”Food is down the street.”  So against my better judgement, I pulled out of the driveway, and started down the street to find some cheap sandwich shop.  As I was plotting my escape, I felt her hand grope me.  Reaching over to move her hand away, I asked her to stop.  She giggled, and immediately took my hand and put it on her chest.  In the brief moment between her putting it there and my taking it away, I realized that not only was this girl, ugly, short, chubby, and completely unlike her description, her chest appeared to be mostly padding from whatever cheap bra she was wearing.  I had had enough.

I turned the car around, and her voice got excited.

“We’re going back to the house?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes,” I responded.

“You come in?” she asked.  I hesitated; I wanted to get the hell away–but I figure my best bet was to play along.

“Yes,” I said again. I could tell she was excited, but what should have been a boost to my ego was more of an adrenaline surge to get the hell out.  I pulled into the driveway, and the moment the car stopped, she leapt from the car.  As the door closed, I locked it.  She looked at me, as if to say, “are you coming or what?”  I gave my “I’m sorry” look, tossed my Camaro in reverse, and left some shallow ruts in her dirt driveway as I got the hell out.  I’m glad their was no oncoming traffic–I would have been screwed.

Arriving home, I saw an email from her in my inbox.  She said,

“Why are you being such a tease?”

That was my first meeting.  I almost didn’t meet anyone again, as it was somewhat horrifying, especially given my lack of experience.  It was from this meeting that I started requiring photos–multiple photos–from people I met.  Yes, it’s superficial, but being attracted is important.  I should have also called her on the phone.  I’m not sure why we didn’t talk on the phone in the first place; possibly that cellphones weren’t as common, and she may not have wanted to give me her home number.

I also learned not to meet people in a private place–the best bet is always a public place.  That way, if something goes wrong, I can just go, and not be concerned for my safety.  Additionally, when I saw her driveway and house, I should have just kept on going.  It seriously looked like a scene from a desert Jurassic Park.  Red flags everywhere.  I learned a lot from my first experience, and I’m glad it was someone who didn’t kill me.

This entry was posted on Friday, October 23rd, 2009 at 5:09 pm and is filed under Online Dating. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.