So I figure it’s time to tell you about my online foray into dating. It was my senior year of college long long ago (ahem, last October) and I had a long dry spell. Besides a very misguided and unnecessarily long blind date fiasco with my friend’s cousin, I had never been on a date. Had only been kissed once. And I had just turned 22. So feeling like I should give it a shot I went on the unholiest of dating sites (unbeknownst to me at the time), POF (otherwise known as Plenty of Fish.com). I had never seriously tried on a dating site—I’ll admit it, I was embarrassed!
But I put up a few photos and jumped feet first. Sure, there were those unavoidable creepers, a guy from another university saying hey J, a guy impressed that I sent him a message first, and a guy who worked for a haunted farm in his spare time (and it was nearing Halloween at the time …)
I, loving Halloween, was pretty excited by Haunted Farm guy. He was blonde and stocky. [I have to confess an unnatural attraction to blondes. I never realized it until I ticked off all of my crushes post Carrot Top. Blonde, blonde, dirty blonde, blonde, ash blonde. Yep, they all fit the profile! What can I say? I think they’re sexy. I wouldn’t say no to Enrique Iglesias or Eric Bana, but they will never top Chris Hemsworth for me …] The guy who’d said hi was also blonde and looked pretty all-American. Guy Impressed by Taking Charge attitude was darker haired.
I called my roommate in a couple of days of conversation later to get her opinion. What did she think? To my surprise, she was all over Hi Guy. Now, Hi Guy was blonde too and seriously fine in the picture, but I kind of had a special thing with Haunted Farm Guy. I mean, I LOVE Halloween. Annd then he started ranting about how stupid he thought modern horror movies were and got pretty pretentious and snobby for a guy driving a hay ride tractor. Did I mention I love those cheesy B-Horror movies? Well, needless to say, snobbiness turned me off. And I really started to focus on Hi Guy.
Hi Guy revealed that he was in the National Guard, but wanted to become a pilot like off of a Top Gun. From here on out, I will refer to him as Top Gun. … Mostly because [regrettably] it is still mightily sexy imagining him piloting like in Top Gun …
We started talking, really talking. He was 24 and only a junior in college because he’d lost a couple of years to his mom’s serious illness. We eventually became facebook friends and I determined that he was real and not an 86 year old man. He was tall, blonde, cute, went on “training” stints (he described them in the cutest way!) and seemed interested in me after seeing all of my facebook embarrassments, friends, photos, etc. Let’s face it, my whole life was on facebook in college days.
He was smart sexy too. We talked about my Shakespeare class and while he hated English (English major writing here) he loved math and engineering (all subjects that influenced my love of English which did not include math or engineering). But it worked in a funny way. I still remember him ruefully admitting he didn’t know how the date he was planning with me would top a night spent in the library cubby with Shakespeare at two in the morning. (This photo makes it seem a lot hotter than it was … I promise!)
He said he’d never been online dating before and I believed him. I was in online lust.
Finally, the day of the presidential election, I popped the question. I couldn’t wait any longer. Did he want to meet up? We had talked for a month. Surprisingly, he took quite a while to respond, but eventually the answer came back a resounding affirmative.
Now, all I had to do was wait for Saturday and hope he actually looked like his picture and wasn’t seven inches shorter than me, or married, or fifty years older, or a serial killer. Clearly, I had a lot to occupy my mind for those remaining days.
I lived on the third floor and I had this girlish fantasy (okay, being practically dateless for nearly four years of college, I had a few fantasies) that I would hurry down the stairs and there would my guy be, leaning against his car. I think I mostly blanked out going down the steps, but here’s the strangest thing …
I rounded the corner of the staircase and there he was, leaning against his car, even taller than I’d imagined, dressed in a cute gray jacket—casual cute—even hotter than the photos. Oh God, my heart stopped. He was breathtaking. So with that worry out the window, my mind immediately raced on to what he would think of me.
To my relief, he didn’t seem disappointed. We hugged and after three seconds where he confessed he was glad my address hadn’t led him to a dark alley to be mugged, and I that he wasn’t a married serial killer intent on murdering me to sell my organs to South America, it was like we’d known each other forever. And walking past my campus library windows, side-by-side with a gorgeous, sexy, funny, real guy there just for me, our reflection fulfilled another simple fantasy of mine.
This isn’t the end of Top Gun. Unfortunately you already know that this didn’t end nearly as prettily as it began …