Well, isn’t that *special*

It’s just past midnight, and I just got off the phone from the *oddest* phone call.

Let me set the stage. After this post, I did finally write back to the “match” in question. He’d provided his direct email address, so I sent my reply there. Then I waited for a response. After two days of nothing, I shot a short note directly to the match account:

I shot you a note to (email address) the other night, but haven’t heard back from you. Either AOL threw me into the spam folder, or you’ve changed your mind and are no longer interested (or secret option C, beats me). I hope that the first possibility is what’s up; you sound interesting.

Whatever the case, please do let me know.

Allison

He replied to that note, saying he’d never received a message and to please resend it. I did, but to the match address instead. After that, his reply suggested a phone conversation rather than meeting up in person. Well, yeah…of course. Just as I’ll never meet up with someone without having seen a photo first (I made that mistake in…oh…1998, I think?), I won’t meet up with someone without a phone call first either.

Around 11:30, I got an email suggesting a phone call, and I happened to be awake, baby asleep, so sure…why not?

So I get on the phone with this man, this man who’s never been married and never had any kids, and he proceded to explain TO ME what I will face dating as a single mother. He told me what it is that I’m looking for (which in his estimation was a husband — not dating) and continued to say that it’s really too much pressure. All during this, he barely let me get a word in edgewise (me! the extraverted, talkative ENFP!), as he took any snippet of what I said and made great leaps of deductive reasoning about who I am and what I want.

At some point, I (with my keen sense of the obvious) noted that this wasn’t going very well. I told him that I didn’t seem to be faring too well in this “assessment phone call” (his term). After another excruciating 3-5 minutes in which he wished me well, “especially where you live — I feel sorry for you living in Colorado Springs,” After questioning his choice of feeling sorry for me — I mean, if I really hate it here, I CAN move (and might), I bid him good luck, and he hung up before even giving a polite good night.

Good riddance. Pity.

The fun part of this is that I hadn’t reviewed his profile again since the day I replied. I pulled it up (quick! pop-quiz!) before the phone call, and looked at the photos and thought…no. It’s not that he’s not attractive. There’s just something missing. A smile — a hint at someone who enjoys life and has a good heart. OMG…now that I think about it, he reminded me of my ex-fiance’ in photos — taking himself a little too serious for my taste. Honestly, the photos that draw me are the ones with warmth. That’s lacking. Enough wound-licking for now — or is it wound-licking when I don’t feel like I lost anything? I lost an idea, and that’s about it.

The “what I’m looking for” part

Whether intentionally or not, I probably helped him to leap to the conclusion that I’m husband-shopping. What he asked was this — are you shopping or buying? Without seeing *his* connotation to this question, I said that no, I wasn’t necessarily looking to just date. While I’m perfectly fine with staying single, I’d love to add a partner to the mix in the long run. This clearly meant something very different to him than it does to me. To me, it means this: I’m not going to waste my time meeting up with morons. I’m not going to bother to date people with whom I wouldn’t want to become good friends. So, no…I’m not shopping, and by that, I mean that I’m not looking for some “anyone” to be a mealticket on date-night. Feh.

After I sleep on this, I’ll have more thoughts on what I can learn from it, I’m sure — and how I can be a little more clear about what I want. What I really want, to start, is friendship. Not “dating games.” Not even sex — it’s been long enough, I can damned well live without that. Simple friendship. I would adore a friendship that could turn into something else — yes, even the “cliche” best friend that practically every person on match claims they’re seeking.

My initial impression is that match.com is and will be a waste of my time. Getting into grad school and continuing to broaden my circle of friends — with no eye to dating — will enrich my life much more than match.com ever could. Don’t quote me on that yet — my subscription doesn’t expire until next month. :-D

That said, I’m making sure that they don’t auto-renew me.