When Profiles Lie!
I scanned the photos eagerly, excited about trying this online dating which seemed to be pouring fish into my net. Can too many men ever be a bad thing? I found a photo of a fit, tanned guy standing on a mountaintop looking like king of all he surveys, he casts a cheeky grin in my direction and I’m hooked. “Scientist who loves to read and has to have his fill of sports, keen sense of humor”. Perfect. I run 5 miles at least four days a week and read everything from the Science Times, my favorite part of the NY Times, to Dave Barry and Hemmingway. Fit, intelligent, athletic and funny I couldn’t wait to meet him and flashed off an email immediately. He was a relatively long drive away but he looked worth it and we arranged to meet for dinner at a restaurant I know in a town about halfway. I was so psyched and with great deliberations I dressed to kill, I was not going to let this one get away.
I took a table near the window, watching with anticipation as an overweight, sweaty guy parades in followed by a young couple clearly in love, will that be me soon
I wondered. I can barely wait to meet Steve in real life and struggle to stop craning my neck to see further down the street. “Carrie?” A deep sexy voice whispers near my ear catching me off guard, how did I not see him
enter? I turn around coolly trying for a sultry smile, desperate to keep my excitement under control, and there he is, that sexy grin which is mirrored time and again in his rolls of double chins. How old could that photo have
been? I try to keep the smile pasted in position. Sweaty Steve. “Steve?” I squeaked weakly and had to cough to clear my throat. I stand up and tower above him in my summer sandals. 5 foot 8 inches? Was that standing
on top of the mountain? I am tall so I find it easier if guys are at least the same height as me. Are there more surprises to come?
“Wow, you’re just like your photo,” he murmurs huskily, as though this is a huge surprise.
“Okay,” he starts awkwardly, “I guess I don’t look exactly like my photo anymore, that was me back in college, a few years ago, I’ve got a few crowsfeet since then,” and he shows me some
tiny wrinkles besides his eyes. I laughed enthusiastically, at least he had a sense of humor. I looked back up from my salad still giggling to see him staring confusedly at me. Did he really
think that was the only change in the photo? I stare back at him equally confused.
He grins his cheeky grin, “Okay, so I’ve lost most of my hair since then, it’s a genetic thing, my mother’s family all bald as vultures by the time they’re 25.” I smile more gently this time, at
least we’re getting closer to honesty.
“Sports?” I asked curiously. “You said you couldn’t live without your sports?”
I wondered if my outfit was good enough to kill him at a glance.
“Oh, by the way,” he said as we left the restaurant, “What was with that really odd smile you gave me when I said hello? Just a tip but it made you look really weird and you’re really not so bad!”