Mama used to always say, “If it looks like a duck, quacks like a duck; it’s a duck!” You don’t try to argue its features, nor decipher if the duck will one day bark or cluck. It’s a duck! I approach dating with the same philosophy. If it sounds crazy, looks crazy, chances are…

Online dating has never failed to provide unintentional entertainment. Although I have seen countless commercials and second-hand testimonials about those whose found love; it’s never been my thing. After emailing “Shawn” I received the following message:

“I love to lightly bite. Our love will transcend the physical. However, rest assured that with me, you would never need batteries.”

 Bruh, I don’t even know your last name. It’s way too early in the game to be talking about my magic drawer. Message deleted.

I had been conversing with “Coach” for two weeks. It seemed like a fit. He shared my passion for college hoops, and Southern cooking. He had an awesome sense of humor. The conversation flowed effortlessly. It was time to meet face to face. After a week of planning, we decided to meet at a local restaurant for brunch. On the day of the date I called to confirm what time we were meeting and he said,

“I’m broke. Sorry, can’t make it.”

 I can appreciate the honesty. I am, however, a little peeved that dude waited until an hour beforehand to alert me. Not a good look.

My most recent mishap occurred between “Dave”. “Dave’s” profile was a winner in my book! Handsome. Intriguing. I wanted to know more about him, so we exchanged numbers. I called him.

Me: So, what do you do for a living?

Him: I’m an assassin.

Me: Ha, ha that’s cute. No, seriously what do you do for a living?

Him: I’m an assassin.

Me: (sighs)

Him: No one ever believes me.

Me: Seriously, what do you do?

Him: I’m an assassin.

Me: My mom is calling on the other line. I gotta go. Good-bye.

 There will be no return to Crazy Ville with “Dave”. Somewhere in the universe, there is a female who will appreciate his dry wit and humor; it’s just not me.

I’m not asking for perfection. I just desire a man who loves Cocker Spaniels, the music of Jill Scott, and can rock a white towel around his waist fresh from the shower. Is that so wrong?

 

photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/54657246@N02/22191803630″>Réappropriation…</a&gt; via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a&gt; <a href=”https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/”>(license)</a&gt;

 

 

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