Am I a bitch? I don't like to think of myself as shallow or rude. But today when I opened the door to greet a date--a man I met online, I had to keep myself from slamming it in his face. Unkempt, with a protruding pot --no this was bigger than any pot in a commercial restaurant -- belly, X grinned from ear to ear when he saw me.
And why shouldn't he? Four nights a week of kickboxing, one day of treadmill and another of intense uphill walking--plus watching what I eat, keeps me trim. Yes, looks matter to me in the men I date! Because I feel good about myself, I would never greet a date without primping -- just a little bit. I want to look good. I want to see them look happy to see me. And I expect the same kind of care from the man I am dating. But there was no way of predicting this one. His online photo was OK, but he came to the door in dirty blue jeans, a rumpled shirt and he looked NOTHING like his photo. He had a huge pot belly. And a high squeaky voice.
So here I am, faced with a man and everything about him repulsed me - and I shuddered at the thought of having to spend an evening with him watching him from across a table. I guess I could have endured the evening. But it seemed such a colossal waste of my time and his money. And while I felt bad about taking his weight into account, I knew it was more than just the pot belly that was turning me off. So, I decided to save us both. I informed him that my daughter needed some face-time with me. She had just gotten home and had homework to work on. "I understand," he said. "Kids come first."
Saved by the kid! (And the whole ordeal was just 20-minutes - which no doubt qualifies as the shortest date I've ever had in my life!) Next online date may have to provide his BMI before I agree to meet!