Love Story

Since I tell the story better...I guess I'll go ahead and tell it.

My friend met a great guy (that's you, Vince!) on Match.com. Apparently, she thought everyone should be so lucky...so, while visiting her in beautiful Orchard Park one weekend, the two of them decided that I needed a profile. Under threat of them making up their own version, I proceeded to create a profile that was witty and charming and just a little embarrassing. I posted an ok-ish picture and voila...I was back on the market.

Before I go any farther...a few things about internet dating:

There are some weirdos out there. A friend once described herself as "flypaper for freaks" and after the first week I understood with almost crystal clarity what she had been talking about. I had (for some reason...that picture really wasn't all that great) over 400 profile views and a couple dozen emails in the first week or so. Unfortunately, there were a lot of frogs.

I'm sorry, but if you're old enough to be my father you should not email me. If you're "hear to meat women," we have a problem (I'm prejudiced against people who can't spell...a typo is one thing, but, c'mon...really). You should also not start out your profile professing your porn addiction/alcoholism/drug abuse/felony convictions. I'm just saying...

At any rate, there were a few decent-seeming guys. I had a couple of phone conversations that quickly ended that delusion. Then, this guy emails me. Wants to know if I want to go to the Erie Philharmonic tonight (even though he doesn't know my name). He actually used the word (?) "din-din." I should have known then, anyone dorky enough to use din-din and philharmonic in the same sentence was destined to be my soul-mate.

I had my reservations. You know, where this person is a potential axe-murderer and I don't know anything but his first name (more on that later!). I, however, had plans and had to ask for a rain check. No, really. That's exactly how I responded. He, apparently, recognized a fellow dork and agreed to call me later the next day.

This was the conversation about how much he liked to run, how he hated cats, and that he was leaving the country in a couple months. It was also the conversation about how I think people who run for fun are weird, I have three cats, and I'm in the middle of a divorce. Neither one of us ran screaming into the night, and we ended up emailing each other a few times and meeting for dinner a couple nights later.

We met a Figgie's around 6:30. We really hit it off. I learned that he loves chocolate cake (among other things). They all but turned the lights out on us, so we decided to go get coffee. He learned that I love Tim Horton's (among other things). It seems that Timmy's is the place to be for Jehovah's Witnesses at 12:30 in the morning. So, as I said before...dinner, a bottle of wine, a couple cups of coffee, and some Jehovah's Witnesses later, we called it a night. He kissed me and then asked if he could because "it's easier to beg forgiveness than to ask for permission."

It wasn't until the next day when the other half of my department was asking me about my date that I realized we'd hit it of too well. I didn't know his last name! I knew all other sorts of things, but had no idea what his last name was. Computer nerd that I am, though, it didn't take me long. I'm a pretty good listener and I knew where he worked. I figured LP would have a website with some kind of contact list or something and that I could at least narrow it down. Even better, they have photos of the employees! Thanks, Jim, for my making my search a lot easier! It's a good thing I'm not some psycho stalker, though (...just between you and me, I felt like one when I was trying to find him).

So...that's the beginning of the story. It just gets crazier from there! Did you expect anything less from the two of us?