So instead, I will tell a story that happened many moons ago. It is the tale of the One-Handed Make Out Bandit.
Really, the name says it all. Though, you should be warned that this story does not particularly shed the best light on myself...
Over the summer, I went through a very low point in my life that I have mentioned before as my "Moment of Weakness". It was during this moment that I decided I needed to try again my luck at online dating roulette. For several months, nothing really exciting happened. I was propositioned by not one, but THREE guys in wheelchairs, and was about to throw in the towel when I got a very original, very funny sort of message that perfectly intrigued me. It helped that the one or two pictures he had posted also seemed to fall under "my type".
We emailed back and forth only a couple of times and I really felt like if nothing else, we would be great friends. It was also around this time that I discovered I was doing the whole internet dating thing wrong, and so I agreed rather quickly to meet him at one of his improv comedy shows. During the show, I was impressed with how cute I thought he was and only slightly shocked to notice that he possesses a deformed hand. (He had two working legs, though, so he met the bare minimum requirement.) After the show, we exchanged quick hellos, I re-extended my invite for him to come to a ward munch-n-mingle that I was planning/hosting/commandeering and he attended. It was fun, and quick.
So now, by the time that we went on a lunch date, we had two quick meetings under our belts and I was feeling much more comfortable because it wasn't some creep I met on the internet. Lunch was excellent. Like, really excellent. We worked close enough to each other that we walked our separate ways, and I called my mom and talked about how nice it was to go on a very fun, normal date.
|We went and saw Eurydice at UVU.|
I was supposed to leave town on Friday night, but postponed the trip so that I could go to dinner and then attend a very weird play on UVU campus. Again, I was so pleased with how fun and witty he was. He challenged my wit, too, and I felt like I was keeping up with him. He wasn't shy and often talked to the strangers around us, drawing them in to anecdotes and kept me laughing.
And that was the end of the date.... that he had planned. We discussed going to my house and watching a movie, but it was a perfectly blustery night with only a little bit of sprinkles, and I convinced him to go on a walk with me. We headed to Carterville Park and....
It was a good night.
I left town for the weekend and got a total of three texts (I'm guesstimating. The point is, that while he texted me, it was not very much) and then when I got back... nothing.
A week went by. Then two (again, guessing). I got bored one night and suggested another walk, which spawned a texting conversation in which we discussed my upcoming birthday. And then my birthday came and went and finally I got a text that said that he needed to tell me something.
Since I already knew that he wasn't in a wheelchair, I couldn't possibly think of what, after weeks of nothing, he needed to tell me. But, he felt it was necessary to inform me that he had started seeing someone else.
And so there you have it. Few people can say that they have been played by a one-handed man. (Though, I guess technically he does have both hands.) But now a few more people can joke with me about the One-Handed Make Out Bandit.