I thought I was done with commentary on the world of computer dating for a bit, but then I discovered an old favorite phenomenon. Everything old is new again. Dear Mr. Malaprop: I’ve always enjoyed your Grandma (Great? Great Great? Well of course she’s at least great, whatever the generational aspect.) You can imagine how [...]
I rarely hear from a guy who lives within 15 miles of me AND posts a picture AND is less than 35 pounds overweight AND I could even start a cup of coffee with. I know, these items wouldn’t seem to form such an insurmountable hurdle, but they do. And then the messages from these fella’s … well maybe they have a different definition of lovely than I do. These guys give clear signs that they haven’t read any part of my profile. At worst they’re evil scammers. At their most innocuous they’re probably drunk and lonely.
Guitar man? There are lots of them. Subtext? “I never grew up? I have no money? I’m an independent spirit–code-name: groovy misogynist?” The guitar is at least a woman-shaped object in his arms.