In the spirit of being open to whatever romantic adventures might come my way, no matter how potentially embarrassing, I decided to actually meet in person one of those 28-year-old guys with possible Oedipal issues who often send me sweetly suggestive messages. I won't be doing that again.
The lack of mutual interest was obvious from the first three seconds, but we both had to play nice and chat for a brief period before politely escaping. On his part, he was probably paying too much attention to my boobs to really look at my face in the photos, so seeing me in person was probably a bit of a shock for the poor kid.
As for my lack of interest, it was due to the fact that the guy talked in a complete monotone, like Steven Wright without the comedy. For half an hour of conversation. No vocal inflection whatsoever. I suspect meds were involved.
I couldn't help but flash back to another half-hour date, with a guy who stared at the bartender while slinging back shots of bourbon, his nose dripping down his face the entire time. Just when I was about to offer him a Kleenex, he wiped his nose with his hand.
Maybe the next one will be better....