Tuesday, September 20, 2011

Missed Connections

I got a text from the wife last week telling me I was in Missed Connections. For those of you who don't know, it's a section in the personal ads on Craigslist. It's along the lines of "You were in line at McDonald's ordering extra cheese on your Quarter Pounder and wearing capris that showed off your cankles. Call me if you see this, I'd like to buy you a Big Mac." Some of them are romantic, some of them are just downright pervy.

I didn't believe it at first but when I went to check it out, he had pretty much described me AND the wife to a T. I was the "cute girl on the trail". I didn't know if I should be really excited and flattered or totally creeped out. These things can really only go one of two ways.

Out of sheer curiosity, and at the urging of almost all of my girlfriends, I wrote him back. And then I waited. With a few dozen thoughts bouncing around in my head. "What if he's super hot?" (Wife said he wasn't.) Maybe he's The One. This would make the greatest story ever. Wait, what if he's a total psycho and starts cyber-stalking me? I should have used a fake name. What if he's really short? What if we fall in love? What if we don't? Maybe he said cute "girl" because he's a child molester." Yeah, I know, I sound totally crazy and neurotic but I'm a girl. This is what we do.

After a few emails (most confirming that I was in fact the "cute girl" he had seen), he got right down to it. He's looking for a partner. (Which, personally, I hate. Partner? What does that even mean? Golf partner? Dance partner? Business partner? Gay is what usually comes up for me when I hear "partner".) Okay, so it's good to be upfront about these things. I guess. He has kids. Okay. Not unusual. He likes to run and mountain bike. Uh huh, totally normal for Central Oregon. And - ladies and gentlemen - he's a Sunday school teacher.

Um. Hold the fucking phone.

I am not Church Girl. I formerly lived with the King of Swearing. I now regularly hang out with the Queen of Swearing. I have a huge potty mouth. I kind of just have a big mouth. I'm the mom that plays the music in the car really loud. The music that's unedited. With the kid in the car. I drink. Like a fish. I smoke cigars. Does any of this fit into the image of a Sunday school teacher's "partner"? Yeah, not so much.

We did talk on the phone. Because I'd had a couple of martinis and thought why the hell not? I think he brought up sex at one point. Hmmm, presumptuous much? Also, something I said was "stupid." Well then.

I emailed him to let him down and tell him that I just didn't feel a connection (missed or otherwise). His response was that I've been on my own for too long. Which really = too independent. Maybe I am. Too independent. But maybe I'm not. And maybe if I weren't I wouldn't be the person that I am. Which may not be Church Girl, but I think is pretty awesome anyway.

At any rate, I'm not apologizing for who I am. And I'll stay independent for now.


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