The first thing I noticed about Gregg’s profile is that he actually appeared to be a girl. Or, at least, in his main picture, Gregg was wearing a skirt. I thought maybe Match had gotten confused about whether I liked men or women but, when I investigated further, Gregg was just wearing a kilt, or as he informed me when I emailed him to ask about it, an Utilikilt. This was new territory for me! And he wasn’t even Scottish! Very intriguing. Gregg’s profile also mentioned that he had recently moved to Seattle from Texas where had grown up and gone to college. A guy that was comfortable wearing a skirt that hailed from one of the most conservative states in the country? I definitely had to find out more about this guy.

Gregg and I only emailed back and forth a couple of times before we met but I was impressed all over the place. He was witty, funny, seemed to be incredibly smart and he was “in grad school”. Gregg didn’t clarify his schooling situation, which I thought a bit…odd but it was the only red flag among lots of very cool traits. Gregg asked me to meet him for a drink and I was very excited to take him up on the offer. We chose a bar, picked a time and we were on.

I got a text message from Gregg as I pulled into the parking lot telling me that he was there, waiting in the bar. I walked in the door and looked for him and, uhhh…, he wasn’t there. I took another look and, nope, there wasn’t anyone around that looked like my date. I was standing there, looking confused, about to text Gregg, when the guy in the corner started waving me down. THAT was Gregg? Holy crap. He looked absolutely nothing like his photos. He had gained probably 75 pounds, hadn’t cut his hair in probably a year and had also decided, apparently, to quit shaving. I was on a date with one of the members of ZZ Top! Sweet!

Even though I knew right away that Gregg was not what I considered physically attractive, he was such a cool guy, from his emails, that I still wanted to have a drink with the guy. It soon became very, very clear, though, that Gregg had not only seriously misrepresented what he looked like but also how cool he was. He was one of the most self-possessed guys I had ever met. We hadn’t even made it through our first drink before I heard the story of Gregg moving to Seattle, his five top bands of all time, his favorite college football team, why he had decided to go back to college and how he didn’t really mind that he was back living with his parents even though he was almost 40. Another round of drinks, please!

Several times during Gregg’s monologue I tried to interject, make a comment, or otherwise pretend that we are having a conversation but he talked right over me. It was almost unbelievable. I would start to say something and he would immediately just resume his diatribe. It was like I was not even there. He had some interesting things to say but I didn’t think it was too much to ask to, you know, be able to utter more than two words. I thought maybe he would wind down eventually and notice that I was there but, after two drinks, I hadn’t said more than two sentences. I was done fishing – it was time to cut bait and get out of there.

Gregg paused for five seconds and I took the opportunity to wave down our waitress. As she started to walk over, Gregg said, “Oh, thanks for getting her. Their second happy hour starts at 10 p.m. and I am dying, absolutely dying, for some macaroni and cheese. It is only $2! I can get two orders!” I just looked at him and shook my head. It was a work night, I had already endured two hours with this gas bag and he was now deciding to keep me hostage for at least another hour? No, no. I didn’t think so. I explained that, wow, sorry, it was kind of late and I really had to be going. I put down a $20 and stood up.

Gregg barely even looked at me as I got ready to go and, when I offered my hand to him so we could at least have a handshake goodbye, he looked at it for at least ten seconds before he shook it back. This guy was just wowing me with his social skills. Really, they were amazing. By this time the coveted macaroni and cheese had arrived and he barely even looked up from shoveling it in his mouth to say goodbye to me.

I got an email from Gregg two days later asking if I would be interested in going to a movie with him that weekend. I almost answered that I would if he could come up with even one unique detail about me from our first meeting. I wanted proof that he actually even remembered who I was. What was he doing going out on dates? Was he just looking for a warm body to talk to? As far as I could tell he was just doing his best to give online dating a really horrible reputation. An ‘A’ for effort in that department, Gregg, an ‘A’ for effort.

Published in: Uncategorized on January 24, 2011 at 1:29 am  Comments (4)  

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4 CommentsLeave a comment

  1. I really enjoyed reading about your date with Gregg. Your writing style greatly enhanced the story; the meter and melody you chose complimented the lyrics~good luck finding someone to pay attention to you. FYI Men are like organized religion; 99% give them all a bad name.

  2. self-pos·sessed
       /ˈsɛlfpəˈzɛst, ˌsɛlf-/ Show Spelled[self-puh-zest, self-] Show IPA
    having or showing control of one’s feelings, behavior, etc.; composed; poised.

    You meant SELF OBSESSED.

    • Thank you. You are right and I fixed it.

  3. How about just coffee? I’ll pay. I’m almost normal. I’m a good listener. I’m a guy, BTW.

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