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2004-01-22 @ 3:26 p.m.
match.dot.com.dot.not

Big doings at the wittykitty house. Yes, indeedy. Nothing less than the arrival of the Match.Com Ten. A weekly e-mail which delivers (oh, baby) 10 eligible MENFOLK, via e-mail, to my house for my perusal.

Ten eligible guys with photos that I can e-mail FOR FREE! Whee! And oh what a selection! Woo! I'm getting damp just thinking about it.

Hank from Weaselville who writes: "I enjoy walks on the beach, writing poetry and shooting small, defenseless animals"....Herman from Melville who writes: "You'll have a whale of a time with me. Did you know whales are big?"

And then the guy who looks like a hitman from the Sopranos. I am definitely pining for him. I mean what could be more appealing than that murderous "I'm Gonna Shoot You and Throw You in a New Jersey Culvert" photo with the ultra-exciting, "Write me or your cousin Vinnie won't be comin' for Sunday dinner anymore."

I signed up with Match.Com a little over two years ago. And the response was phenomen..eh...dismal. I got exactly two replies.

The first one was on the first night the ad went in. A guy who lived in the next town over wrote me a short note and said: "I'm not interested in you (well, all righty then), but I have been reading these ads for a long time, and your ad is the funniest ad I've ever read. Good luck! :-)".

Well, thanks, I think. Glad I could bring some sunlight in your otherwise dull, and lifeless existence.

And then, unfortunately, I didn't get another reply until almost a year later. It was from a quadriplegic, and his note was so heart wrenching that it almost made me cry.

"You probably won't like me, because I'm in a wheelchair, and I probably will come across as desperate, but you are my last chance."

Christ. I figure he probably went through all 800,000 ads on Match.Com and I was his last hope. Can you imagine being someone's last hope?

And that too, it seems, was the only way my ad could get a hit too. Sheer desperation.

He, incidentally, was still on my Ten Guys list today...a year later. Poor Wheelchair Guy. Keep going honey. You'll find someone. I didn't respond only because one person with low self esteem in the family is enough.

My shrink has always been all wanky on the subject of Love@AOL. He thinks its the way for me to go. He even offered to pay for a month of it, if I would promise to respond to all the replies that would come POURING IN. Like all _____ of them.

I did put a personal ad in the newspaper once. My shrink was holding me down until I cried Uncle. (Those Aries are so damn forceful). I did have a little bit better response on that one...maybe 6-8 replies.

So we listened to all the voice mail replies during one of my appointments. I was too scared to reply, but then this one guy, sent me a letter, via the newspaper where the ad ran and it was a nice letter. He was a very friendly guy who owned a business, and had two sons. He was a couple of years younger then me, but that didn't seem to be a problem for him. And it definitely wasn't a problem for me.

Young meat. Yum.

So after a few phone calls, which were somewhat halting, we decided to meet at a local park. I was a nervous wreck. I hadn't been on a "date" in about 6 years. Did the hair. Put on makeup. Wore a dress. Looked pretty decent.

And then we met. He was ok looking. Nothing spectacular. I was chatting rather nervously. He was really sullen and quiet. We walked around a pond for about ten minutes. I then said, "Well, how is this going?" and he said, "You don't ask things like that."

"Oh".

We then walked over to an ice cream place and he turned to me and said, "Well, I'm not feeling any spark with you, so I guess I'll be going now. Thanks for coming. Bye."

And then he got into this huge truck with those huge, oversized tires and sped off. My mom used to say those big tires made up for little penises. I'll just have to take her word on that one..

Kaaa-thunk. crumble...

(that was my teeny tiny ego falling to the ground and breaking).

I was really crushed. Not that he was such a catch or anything. He wasn't. And its funny, right before we met, he had told me on the phone that he had just put some clean sheets on the bed. I guess for our forthcoming afternoon of mad, passionate sex. But alas, junior, I guess only you'll be "enjoying" them...by your lonely freakin' self.

I guess it just hurt a little more because I hadn't been out in so long and to have it crash and burn so completely in just a 10 minute span. It hurt. And I'm no dog either.

So I had to report back to my shrink about it. He, of course, wanted me to follow it up with some of the other people from my ad, but I was too distressed to try again. Why have some young stud stomp on my head again? Getting burned once is enough for me.

So Art Book Guy...if you're listening...I think I might be ready for another go-around. Even if you're gay, at least I would have a friend.

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