First Match, Done

I forgot to change my voice mail message when I went to England. Ah well…it was less than a week that I was gone.

When I returned, I saw in my email I had received my first match from the matchmaker service, Andy. Immediately, I felt anxiety. The emails go out to both people, and we’ve been asked to contact each other via phone as soon as possible to set up a time to meet. As my rep told me, “we’ve already screened the person for you. Now, you just have to meet and see if there’s chemistry.” I felt bad that I hadn’t responded sooner and hoped he didn’t feel I was being rude.

Then I picked up my office voice mail messages, and sure enough, there was a message.
I called him back at the number he had left and got his voice mail. I explained I had been out of the country and apologized for not changing my voice mail or being able to return his call earlier.

We traded voice mails for a couple days. This was my first red flag: he left 4-minute voice mail messages! In today’s technology, you can actually see how long the message is, so I’m not exaggerating. His messages were thorough, but very repetitive. One morning, he left me a message on my cell phone, saying he could only be reached on his cell between 1 and 2, at his lunch time. So I didn’t immediately call back but planned to at the designated time.

Then I got into work and had almost the exact same 4-minute message on my work voice mail! It started, “I don’ t know how often you check your other voice mail, so…” On and on, giving me all his numbers again, his schedule for the next few days, spelling his email address twice. I called a friend (and colleague) into my office to get a second opinion. (She’s also very excited about the matchmaking service for me.)
After listening for a few minutes, she said, “Oh, he sounds nice. He’s probably just nervous. At least he’s communicative!” We chatted back and forth and I noted that his message was still talking from my speaker phone, while we had moved on to other topics!

Finally, Andy’s and my schedules matched up for a drink on Saturday. We had a couple more phone conversations, during which I learned he had actually signed up with a different company than the one I did, and it was bought out by my service company. Hmm…

He also told me about his four brothers and how close he is with them. And he mentioned he can be occasionally mean-spirited. Seemed odd thing to say, but I let it go.

We talked about how many people online don’t describe themselves accurately, using old pictures or lying about their weight. I told him I’m a genuine person, and he agreed he was, too. He described himself to me for our meeting and made a point of saying he was 180 lbs.

The bar I chose was in my neighborhood, and it is located just below street level. This turned out to be great because I saw him walk past before he came in. A sinking feeling came over me as I saw he is not remotely someone I would be attracted to.

I don’t know what scale he’s using, but he’s NOT 180 lbs. He was obviously overweight. His head seemed narrower at the top and wider at the jawline, extending into a chin that diagonally reached his neck.

Maybe he could be a great guy, though, and we could be friends.

Then he started to talk.

I already knew he was a talker, but it’s so annoying when someone asks you a question and then interrupts while you’re trying to answer. He again described himself as “occasionally mean-spirited,” (who SAYS that?!?), and I noticed as he spoke that he’s missing a tooth in the lower set.

Knowing he hadn’t signed up with my service, I asked if they had given him the personality profile. He said no. (Why did they match us?)

I told him how I love to travel, learning about different cultures and religions, different perspectives on the world.

He said how he hates walking around NYC and hearing the different languages.
“Really?” I said, “I LOVE that about this city.”

He went on to complain about how the tourists here don’t get out of your way on the sidewalk, and I explained I don’t think they realize our sidewalks are like highways in other cities. They’re not intentionally being inconsiderate.

[Side note: one of my pet peeves is when people make generalizations, like “All Southerners are dumb.” But this one took the cake.]

“People,” he says, “People are so inconsiderate.”
“ALL people?” I tried to get him to clarify.
“Yes.”
He said there were few people he had met in life that were worth knowing.

At this point, I can’t wait to get outta there. Then he starts dogging my neighborhood, knowing fully well it’s where I live.

“This is a terrible neighborhood. There’s no sense of community at all.”
I said, trying to agree-to-disagree, “Maybe it’s what you put into it.”
“No,” he said arrogantly, “it’s terrible. I used to date a girl who lived here. No one says hello to you, no one knows your name, there’s no sense of community at all.”
I firmly said, “That’s not my experience.” End of discussion.

I got out of there shortly there after, going straight home and writing a very strong email to my service. They responded by calling me and letting me vent, thanking me for my candor and promising to do better next time.