One week last year I made a four picture photo montage of the people who contacted me on the free singles sites. (Those being plentyoffish.com and I think it's mingle.com). One was headless and sideways in a dress shirt, the second was headless but upright in camoflage with a beer belly holding - what else - a beer, the third was a broomstick legged old guy on a kid's rocking horse after what was probably his seventh jack and coke - and the fourth was a guy in a wheelchair and his wife; they were looking for another woman to share the love.
Getting a sense for the creepiness of it all??
I learned my lesson when I met someone who had a photograph of himself next to his yacht (that he lives on). To take a photo of a boat that size you need to back off quite a distance. You couldn't see him clearly, but his height appeared to be decent. His profile said he was in his late 50s.
I love boats. People who live on them are typically gypsies at heart. I like them too.
He walks in and late 70s was closer to the truth. It was like lunch with Grandpa. He said he likes Plenty of Fish because it's free.
I bought him lunch and went home feeling defiled, like a cat after a bath.
Still, when I see someone has written I have to check out the photo. It had been a long time since I bothered.
About six weeks ago someone wrote. He had a nice face. The photo looked recent. (Grainy photos = vintage photos.) He's an RN in Fort Myers. Professional and local - score two points.
The long-term exBF of 8 years was an RN before he found out he could make more money with a landscaping business. The long-term exBF was a hoot. Smart, funny ... eventually horrifically mean. Still, he had taken care of me while I was sick with Lyme Disease.
Caring types go into that profession. Nurturing people. And this guy had stuck with it. He had to be ok. Inner dialog - Let's break a pattern here Mick, give a good guy a break.
We exchanged a few emails. He was off the job, recovering from back surgery. OK, shades of Mr. Hyde. Still recovering from the repurcussions of back surgery. I ignored it - this guy sounded like he was going to have full recovery and would be going back to his job in a few weeks.
At that point my summer was just about scrambling for work, starting work on a new book and walking the beach at sunset to keep my calm. I made the mistake of telling him where I park, what my starting point is, how far I go and how long it takes.
He said he wanted to join me for a walk but I know better. Most men my age can't walk further than the fridge and this one had just had back surgery.
He wanted to talk on the phone, "it's easier." I don't like giving out my phone number, but WTF. I was feeling uncharacteristically open that day.
He talked about his surgeries for an hour and a half. I shit you not. He's like serial surgery guy, has a buddy who's a surgeon and apparently they have a lot in common. One likes to cut, the other likes to be cut???
I dunno. I was bored out of my gourd. His goal after retirement was to sell his stuff and cruise the country in a motor home.
He was losing points fast; that's not how I want to spend the rest of my life.
I've seen skits where people grab tin foil and crumble it, claiming there's a bad connection. My connection is already truly bad, but I was doing the Michigan thing - being polite. Fortunately, my battery died around the same time as his.
He sent an email apologizing for cutting the conversation short, saying he had really enjoyed talking to me. "Talking to" being the operative term. Put a fork in me, I was done.
Then he called again - I can't remember if it was after his phone recharged or the next day. I didn't have his name stored and I made the mistake of answering. I said I'd have to call him back; and I didn't. I wrote that I was working on my book.
His next voicemail said "YOU'RE SCREENING ME!!! DON'T SCREEN ME!!"
This trailer immediately ran through my mind - but I shrugged it off.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OZHe3GYQp_8&feature=related
This is about a month ago.
The emails continued. "What have I done"? I responded just once: "You came on too strong." And I left it at that.
He begged me to meet him for coffee at Starbucks on College, but I ignored him. If you ignore them, they'll go away - right?
A few weeks later I did my beach walk and each of those nights is absolutely exquisite. It's dark by the time I reach Time Square and there is usually live entertainment, silly stuff that draws kids.
http://www.fortmyersbeachfl.gov/index.aspx?nid=112
All the benches were full, so I sat on the edge of a concrete planter about 8' behind some guy who was watching the performer. He turned around and I recognized him from his photo.
I nearly launched off the planter and took a different direction back to my car. I thought "I must be imagining this."
Two nights later - darkness fell as I walked off the beach and there he was at Time Square again. There was no eye contact, but I knew he was scanning the area and would see me. I pretended to go to Dairy Queen and hit the side exit back to my car.
I checked the other cars in the area to see if there were any "medical type" IDs. Totally creeped out, I took a photo of the plate parked next to mine.
Then - again - I thought it was my imagination. Nobody does this. I've been stalked in public but never in private.
The next email says "We can meet for a smoothie if you like."
I continued my walks, but I never went through Time Square again. Satisfied that I had solved the problem, I started to relax a little. I was still pushing to get work - posting notes on Craigslist for websites and such.
Yesterday he wrote he has a friend who needs a website.
He seems more persistent than tech savvy, but I suspect he's going to find this blog.
There is a lesson here for all of us trusting types. His name is Sam, I won't give his last name in case he's just an innocent overly needy kinda guy. If not, there should be enough information here for the cops to find him.
I'm going to be more careful with my personal information from now on. I hope you'll be more careful too.
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