Dating Summary...

Back to the dating grind. It's a tough job, but someone has to do it. I've already told you about "Gum on My Shoe" and I'm pleased to report that she's over and I haven't heard another peep after the initial 3 emails including PS's. Later the same week, I met up with Ronna, pronounced Ron-na, as she so politely explained in her first email. Ronna is allegedly 56 and just coming out of a 36 year marriage that she spoke about all effin' evening. Guess what, she's not fond of her ex-husband, particularly since he just married a friend of Ronna's. She seemed enthusiastic until the evening we met. We were to meet at Dillions, since she lived very close by and it was just a few blocks away, at most. When I arrived, right on time at 6:30 PM, the place was mobbed and there wasn't even standing room. I spotted her pretty quickly and she was texting someone and that someone happened to be ME! It said, "Are you here"? I tapped her on the shoulder and replied, "Yes"! I suggested we go somewhere else, as it was clearly too busy and noisy to talk. I offered for us to drive in one car, mine. She declined, not knowing if I had planned on raping her or not. I had already decided NO! Ronna seemed nice enough, but was too recently "hurt" and her pain was palpable. In addition, in my opinion she had clearly begun the melting process that some women and men go through. It's a process where all of their facial features begin to sag and she appears to be melting. Her gullet reminded me of a turkey She was 5' 4" and plump and for me that's just not going to work. She seemed like a pretty nice person and I did feel sorry for her with her story of abandonment, but I wasn't there to make friends, I'm out there to find a mate, a partner, if you will? When it was time to say goodnight at her car, I asked her if she were going to ask me out again and she said "sure", but you what? She never called!

Next was a phone call to the lovely Anna. I've been putting off calling Anna because she was born and raised in Poland and had an accent even in her writing. She eventually confessed that she was better in speaking on the phone, as opposed to writing, but as this story continues, you'll see that's NOT the case. I called Anna on a Monday evening and she did not answer, so I left her a message that was very polite, asking her to return my call and left her my phone number. I even repeated it slowly so she had time to write it down next to my name. The following evening I sent her a text saying, "I was hoping you'd call tonight". She ignored that but the following day, I received a text back asking "Who is this, please?" So I texted her back:

"It's Mel, how many men left you messages on this phone number on Monday?" 

She replied, "I'll call you tonight"!

On Wednesday evening, I was talking to my son on the phone, when the beep indicated another call. I let it go to voicemail, seeing it was her. Immediately after hanging up, I called Anna back and apologized for not being able to take her call. That was the smoothest that conversation went. Somehow we began discussing her job which is the family owned retirement homes she is a part of and how she used to be in real estate. I mentioned that the economy was not currently conducive to the real estate business and she argued that the economy has never been better. She and her sister are looking for a house in Scottsdale and everything they see is sold before they can even make an offer. I take the phone away from ear and look at it. Is she living in 2007? All the restaurants are so busy, you cannot even get in and nothing is wrong with the economy. The entire conversation was one contradiction after another. Anything I said was wrong and she just needed someone to verbally abuse. After about 20 minutes of this abuse, she clearly said: 

Mel, I don't tink we are a match. I wish you da best of luck and .........

That's, when I interrupted her and said:

I finally agree with you on something and hung up!

I felt like I had just lost a boxing match...

Next on the list was a tall blond, about 5' 9" and awfully pretty. We met online and chatted all evening. I started telling her about my Blackberry and how I really ought to get the iPhone that is due to me, as per my upgrade, but I fear learning my way around a new phone, since I really just mastered the Blackberry. I asked her what type of phone she had and what number was assigned to her? (I thought that was a pretty swift way to ask for a phone number, huh?) She replied that she got hers off the fruit stand, it's an Apple! That made me smile  but couldn't help but notice there was no phone number along with her email. I casually mentioned and she replied that she must have forgotten, what's MY number? I just gave it to her. She lives in Carefree and has a Montana prefix, 406.

Patricia called me the following day and we were off to a great conversation when suddenly she received a phone call from her Montana guests that were driving down and they were 3 minutes away! She apologized and I told her to go and enjoy her company and call me when they leave. She emailed me that she enjoyed our conversation, what there was of it and she would definitely call me again. I kind of feel like the fat chick waiting for an invitation to the prom!

Last but not least is Lacy. I saw Lacy on Match and kind of liked her appearance. She's 59 and about 5' 4" with blond hair and a pretty face (in her picture). I watched a comedian on TV the other night who addressed the dating sites and he said that everyone has that ONE great picture that they use for attracting members of the opposite sex. Come on, you know which picture it is, don't you. Well for me, it's the picture I use for this blog and of course he's right and it really made me laugh. Well, supposedly this was Lacy's special picture too. The comic went on to say what he really wants to see is a picture of the girl's mother! Or a picture of her miserable and unhappy because that's how she's gonna look all of the time if she gets with him! 

Getting back to Lacy. In her first email to me, she went on and on and I  could see she was a talker. I was reading along about something, when suddenly out of nowhere, she writes, "My real age is 63". REAL AGE??? She evidently has a real age AND a make believe age, hmm..... A few days later, I called her.  Lacy was BORING. I mean real BORING. She talked about her husband, her 7 year boyfriend, her children and their accomplishments and here's the killer. She gave a sniffle after every second sentence. I long, loud one. I controlled myself not to say, BLOW YOUR NOSE! Plus the TV was blaring in the background and I had a hard time hearing her but didn't feel it was my place to tell her to lower the sound. I didn't make a date with Lacy because I wasn't sure I wanted to meet her. When you're bored with the conversation on the phone, you can actually fall asleep in person!

Kind of Like Gum on My Shoe...

Chemistry.com was a gift from Match.com in 2004, when it was first developed. They needed a customer base in order to sell their new creation and I was already a member of Match, so I inherited Chemistry.com. Up until now, I've only had one meeting with anyone in all those years. She was a recently divorced woman that I felt sorry for, more than anything else. I amuse myself with Chemistry, kind of like playing an online video game, because from experience I know nothing is going to result from it. For some reason, Chemistry.com attracts people that are sitting on the fence as far as meeting new people. Along came Ann, with her coffee cup up close to her mouth, making me think there was either half a face missing or at best, a serious tumor. She assured me it was neither. The first contact on that service is to let the other person know that you are interested by choosing them. I did that. Next, I was notified that Ann was interested too. Chemistry then suggests you send the person an email or a game to play with you. One is called Love it or Leave it. They show you pictures of various things and you are to say whether you love it or would leave it. Cocktails for example. I leave it. Smart cars, leave it. We matched on 5 out of 5, causing no more than a smile. We emailed for a couple of days and then Ann offered me her private email address, along with that came her full name. Let's call her Ann Jones, not her real name.

At some point in emailing, I asked for her phone number and she told me she wasn't quite ready to do that. We emailed some more and I ended up sending her my heart invasion story from my blog, Has This Ever Happened to You? She loved it and caused her to do a lot of thinking. After I confirmed that it was true, she offered me her telephone number. A couple of days later I called, not wanting to seem too anxious. She lived in Tempe, quite a distance from me. Frankly, at that time I had more on my plate than I was comfortable with as far as women to choose from. I had rejoined Match.com on an impulse and the old woman there saw fresh meat and bombarded me with emails.

When I spoke with Ann, she seemed intelligent, poised, dignified and reserved. Not loud in any way and someone I'd like to get to know better. After a couple of weeks of chatting, we finally decided to meet. I suggested Paradise Valley Mall, because I was craving one of the chicken sandwiches they offer there at Chili's. She wanted to meet at Fashion Square in Scottsdale, about a 50 minute ride for me. I left at 11:09 and arrived promptly at noon. We were to meet by the piano in Nordstrom's. When I got there, there was an elderly plump guy sitting in the chair, evidently awaiting someone and I feared she would think that it was me and walk off. I walked around the area looking at women's purses for about 10 minutes when my phone indicated I had a text. (Why not a call?) The text said she was at Mountain View and Scottsdale Rd. and must have daydreamed and didn't get off the 101 in time. She had overshot us by 20 minutes! I called her and she gave me some excuse why she wasn't paying attention, but I rather think she just didn't know where Fashion Square was. Twenty more minutes of looking at women's purses and I decided to text her that she should text me when she arrives in the parking lot and I'll start watching for her. She texted me back that she's in woman's shoes shopping and she's wearing a green scarf. NOW, I'M PISSED! All this time I'm wondering around without a direction, trying not to wander too far and she's shoe shopping. That's when I should have left for home.

I arrive in the shoe department and there is a rather plump lady wearing a green scarf shopping for shoes, not even looking up to see if I'm near. She looks similar to her picture, what there was of it, except she was quite a bit more stout. With a large, flat, ass. The kind that plump old ladies have, but she was really only 55. (I checked!) You may have asked yourself why she is doing all this texting when she has a brand new smart phone, although it is from Cricket. I was with Cricket for a time and everyone said I sounded like I was in a tunnel and honestly, I NEVER talk in tunnels! Ann sounded like she was in a tunnel too. In addition to the tunnel syndrome, Ann confessed that she lives with a former boyfriend and he has her phone tapped and knows details of all of our conversations, so texting and emailing is safer. I'm already thinking RUN, but stick around long enough to see what I'm going to be missing real soon. Ann was pleasant enough, if it weren't for her living arrangement, punctuality, overall size and big flat, fat ass! 

We were both pretty hungry by this time and the only place we could find to eat, sold exclusively sea food and I hate fish. I finally found a chicken sandwich that I found less than exciting and only ate half. Ann scooped up the second half and carried it around all afternoon. We did some serious walking, about 4 hours of it, when she said she needed to stop and text her daughter. Her own car was out of gas in her garage and she has her daughter's car and she's running too late to pick her up. We sat there 30 minutes waiting for her daughter to text back, she never did. So we decided to just go to the parking lot and get our cars. I was parked on the lower level and Ann's car was a floor up, so being the gentleman, I offered to drive her to her car. She hopped into the Volvo and we drove up the ramp to her vehicle. I parked, walked her to her car door and gave her a quick peck on the lips goodbye. She said goodbye and I walked off to my car and got in. Just as I was about to pull away, she yelled MEL! I stopped and got back out and asked what was wrong? She said her car wouldn't start. I was just seconds away from a clean getaway too! I tried honking her horn and it was fine, I tried her lights and she said they were very dim. Not a good sign. She asked me if I had jumper cables and remember seeing them on the garage wall. no help at all, there. I asked her if she had AAA and she said it was expired. I told her they would let her renew it right over the phone with a credit card. I also know it takes an hour to go through it. I've done it. She settled into my passenger seat to go through the system with AAA, as I looked off into the distance. At some point she asked if I had to be somewhere or could I wait with her. Again, I couldn't think of a lie in time and sat there. It was now over six hours since noon. At 6:10 her phone vibrated and it was AAA looking for her in the parking lot. She told them where we were and a young kid in a van pulled up. Ann hopped out, leaving the passenger's door open and addressed the kid driving the van. He was about 20 years old, clean cut good looking boy and Ann was clearly enamoured with him. I kind of disappeared in the background and that was okay, because he was going to get her going, not me. He offered to check her battery first and she said she already tried it and it was dead. He put his gauge on it and it tested fine. That's when she offered that it was only a couple of months old. I wonder how she knew how old her daughter's battery was? She drove a Mercedes sports car, but it was out of gas at home. That's when the kid got into the car and turned the key on the ignition and to everyone's surprise, the engine started right up, no jump needed. With my mouth agape, I said goodbye and kissed Ann on the cheek and left. You know the first thought that crossed my minds, right? What the hell was that all about? I'd say I got about 5 miles in the thick 6 PM traffic when the first phone call came, accusing me of running off and leaving her. I laughed and remembered the 90 minutes I just spent waiting with her for unneeded roadside assistance. From that point on it took me about an hour to get home in constant stop and go traffic. When I got home Julie said, "Must have had a good time, you were gone a long time". I started telling her the story when I received call number 2 from Ann, wanting to know if I abandon all my dates, ha ha.... I chatted with her for about 10 minutes and said I was starving, I was, I said goodbye, knowing that she worked a 16 hour day the next day, she told me.

Now remember, her boyfriend has her phone tapped and he supposedly has a background as a private detective. The texting started about noon, I'd say. She texted every few hours and on her breaks and lunch hour. It kind of reminded me of getting gum on your shoe and not being about to get free of it. When she got home, she started texting full time. Now during our date, she told me she was off on Thursday but had plans with a girlfriend, not that I was interested. The texting now said, she was off the following day after a morning meeting. Do I want to do something? I decided to not answer. I told her I was turning off my phone to read. She continued to have a full conversation without me through text messages. The last one said, "is it yes or no for the movies"? That's when I decided that a Dear Jane (ANN) letter was in order.

When I awakened on Thursday, there was a last text that said, "What time do you rise in the morning?" and there was a hang up, no message call to my phone. I had a cup of coffee and then composed the following email.

 Dear Ann:

After staying up last night until almost 3 AM, I see that you went ahead and had an entire conversation without me through texts. I also see that you called at 10:24 and did not leave a message. I have something that I need to tell you. Because of our single meeting, I didn't find it necessary to tell you that I'm not feeling a chemistry between us. In other more plain words, I'm just not physically attracted to you. It's nothing that you've done, although your roommate situation doesn't enhance you to me, it just nature's way of saying no. I wish you the best of luck in finding happiness and hope you resolve the previously mentioned situation soon.

Mel
And she replied:
I am so ok with it.  Thank you for being honest
 I wish you would have told me sooner I would have not wasted your time or mine.  And the previous situation is resolved!
Ann
But then the PS:
Just want you to know I do not leave voicemails, since there is texting, so if someone does not answer I just text.  I am sorry you were part of the drama with an old boyfriend, which is now over, he just needs to move out.

It is a amazing we were 5/5 the one big difference is when you told the waiter that people don't care, I totally disagree with you, I care about people I think their journey in life is fasnating and that is what makes life so interesting.................................I am sorry you don't care about others.  You are a very unique writer and your stories are so real, because they are real.......................you think people don't care.  Then why do you write!   

Side note* Whew....... I was joking with the waiter. He asked why we were so friendly and other customers just sit there real serious, I said because people just don't care about you. (At the time, it was funny)

Stalker ~ Part Two

 When we left off, Adrienne had recontacted me and it turned out that she couldn't take a hint. She emailed me a 5 page letter that talked about all that went on back in the days when she was my girlfriend and how sorry she was about sleeping with my best friend. I never let her know she was set up, but was shocked to learn that my buddy Dave sold me out. I didn't feel nearly as bad about sleeping with his girlfriend when he didn't know about it either. (The good old days).

Eventually Adrienne left her husband and found true love with a retired Chicago police officer. He was a little guy about 5' 7 or 8" and I had checked him out with family members that were retired Chicago cops. I had a good reason to check this guy out and I'll explain why. Adrienne continued to email me jokes and things of interest. One of the things she sent me was a hate email concerning Jane Fonda and how she sold out our country during the Viet Nam war. I wrote her a reply that it was time to forgive and forget and please don't get all upset about something that was over 40+ years ago. Well, her "gung ho" boyfriend heard about my reply to her and unloaded on me that he wanted to come to AZ. and kill me. Just to piss him off more, I wrote him a note in reply saying that he should love everyone and just because he has threatened my life doesn't mean that I don't love him and want to still be his friend and when can we get together. His reply was worthy of a retired underworld thug. He knows people that would mess me up and I'll be sorry about the day I was born and so on. I decided to spread that joy and had a few friends plus my son writing to him to tell him they loved him too. Eventually, he begged me to eliminate him from my mailing list. I continued to include him in every holiday card that I sent out. Every Christmas, Easter, Labor Day and Memorial Day, I let him know I was thinking of him. It went on for about 3 years until Adrienne and her boyfriend were just memories and that is where I wanted them!

Stalker!

This picture was taken at a NYC hotel in 1965.
I'm on the left.

The year was 1965 and I was dating a girl named Beryl Paddor. Beryl was a senior at New Trier High School and her family owned Paddors Women's Wear that appeared in most of the Chicago area malls. Beryl played the guitar and fancied herself a good hippie guitarist and whipped out her guitar and sang wherever there was a crowd. I had quit school and was involved in the men's wear business with a business partner named Mike Luckman. We carried a men's slack line that was terribly unsuccessful. We didn't care that we didn't make very much money because we both lived with our parents and had no overhead. Mike had man-boobs, unknown to me and when he went to Skokie Valley hospital for a bilateral mastectomy, Beryl and I went to visit him. She was probably the only person in history to be asked to leave the lobby of a hospital for singing and playing her guitar!

I heard about a menswear line that was available in my area for a company that had a great following called Gaslight Slacks. So they flew me to New York for an interview. They were looking for someone in their mid twenties to carry their youth oriented line of slacks, so I lied and said I was 26. Although they considered me as not having any experience, they thought I was bright enough to be taught and decided to hire me, but I would have to stay in NYC for 6 weeks for training. I was great with that, as it was going to be an adventure! 

Now remember, I was only 18 and on the way up to my reserved room at the Holiday Inn on 57th Street, I asked the bell hop to send a prostitute up to my room. I thought I was "big time". He told me it would cost me $50 and I was ready to hand over that amount. I waited in my room and paced the floor waiting for this movie star type 20 something to arrive. Suddenly there was knock at the door and there stood this broken down 50ish drug addict asking if I was the gentleman that ordered company. I slammed the door and screamed, "No, wrong room"! I learned my lesson early on, that reality is what it is and $50 won't buy a young 18 year old a movie star! Even in 1965!

I began my training period where I was sent out everyday with one of their local salesmen. On the weekends, I was told I could go home if wanted to, at the companies expense. I took that to mean I could buy a plane ticket to anywhere and the company allowed it. They did. I went to visit friends I'd met in Florida who lived in PA and another weekend I went to Florida, but paid for my hotel myself. I was allowed $20 per day for a food allowance but bought a loaf of bread and peanut butter and jelly and pocketed the money. By the time I got home, 6 weeks later, I had enough for a down payment on a 65 Catalina convertible, for $1500 brand new. I financed the balance of $1500. 

Getting to my stalker. I was walking in the lobby of the hotel one day when I saw a cute girl with her girlfriend and her girlfriend's parents. They were in NYC for the World's Fair in 65. I moseyed over and said hello. Her name was Adrienne Cohen and she was from a place called Morton Grove, the neighboring town from Skokie. I took her phone number and promised to call when I got home and I did. 

She was 17 and really cute back then and we dated for a few weeks. At some point she became less than desirable when I realized she was not as bright as I needed in a girlfriend. I told her how I felt, leaving out the intelligence part, so as not to hurt her feelings, but did tell her I couldn't continue to see her. There was a long pause and finally she said she was going to ignore the last conversation that we'd had and everything would stay the same. With my mouth agape, she left. Was she serious? Could I not get rid of this genius? The following day she called just like nothing had happened. She did drive by's and would scream something out the window of her car, professing her love..

Eventually I figured out a plan. I arranged for her to meet me at my buddy, Dave Levee's house, only I didn't show up on time. I waited until she would have had plenty of time to have slept with him and when I did walk in, I pretended to be shocked at what I had found. She was all, I'm sorry, it's not how it looks. I was the betrayed lover and she was the adulteress. It worked. I didn't find out until many years later that she did indeed sleep with Dave! That was the end of Adrienne.

 Many years had passed and it was 1998 and I was married to my 3rd wife Debra, when I came home from work one day and found a message from an Adrienne Cohen. My mother's maiden name was Cohen and my father had just passed away, so I figured it was someone from my mother's family offering condolences. I called the number and to my surprise, it was my stalker, Adrienne. She had attended my father's funeral in hopes of seeing me, but when she didn't, she asked my brother for my info. He was happy to give it her or anyone else that wanted it. I couldn't believe she had tracked me all the way to Arizona! We talked awhile and we caught up and she was at the end of her only marriage, had 2 daughters, one of which lived right here in AZ. That scared me. The first thing I did was tell my wife about her. She smiled and didn't care. Not a good sign in a good marriage. Then Adrienne sent me a picture and I saw her ample size of 5' 1" and 300 plus LBS and worst of all, guess what? She didn't get any smarter!

To be continued....

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