The Halfling


Emails pour in from *insert popular dating site*.com like rain from a thunderstorm. Some strange, some creepy, but most quite dull. Since we all know I have some pretty basic standards, (like you must be able to read AND write, not just look at pictures) I am able to sort through the really bad ones fairly expeditiously. When one catches my eye, be it due to humor, common interest, or, yes, I will admit it, the smoking hot factor, I send a quick response.

One email I received was about four paragraphs long and had me laughing through all four. Each paragraph was referencing a different portion of my written profile. He closed it with, “If you appreciated the humor within the body of this email, you should definitely respond before the six other women I just emailed. Tick…tick…tick…tick…”

I responded. I like to laugh, he’s cute, he’s capable of spelling words correctly and stringing them together to make coherent sentences, and, if memory serves me correct, he used a couple of three or more syllable words in their proper context. Obviously, I’ve met my dream man. Well, not met, but you know, made contact.

We have been talking for two weeks now and will be meeting this evening for the first time. I’m actually very excited about meeting him. He’s been clever, sweet, inquisitive and consistent throughout the two weeks.

This bears announcing because I’ve been quite tepid about meeting the other two, but I feel differently about The Halfling. I expect this to be very interesting and fun, nice flavorful change of pace. The fact he is half Latino doesn’t make me exactly sad, I’m used to mi Colombiano, so this will be a breath of refreshing familiarity, and he definitely isn’t as “vanilla” as the two previous dates. (btw, I had to explain to a co-worker, so just to clarify for all of you, vanilla in personality, not skin tone)

I will give a post date rundown tomorrow. Wish me luck. Hopefully I don’t have my expectations up too high. No, seriously, use the little comment button and wish me luck, I’m starting to feel as if I’m the only one left on the internet.


Suggestions for finding Mr. Perfect

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