So, I walked into a fellow teacher’s room this past fall where we gather to eat lunch and announced to my pals, “I have a great Vickie story!” I plopped myself down and took out my yogurt , shook my head and rolled my eyes. “This is all your fault. You won’t even believe what I did.” But before I begin to tell you the details of the events that could truly only happen to me, I need to back up a bit.
I eat lunch with a group of ladies that I just absolutely love. We have grown close and gave our group the name, The Lunch Bunch. Our 30 minute break for lunch is our time to vent, laugh, and gossip. Well, for some reason 2 of the lunch bunchers, I will call them Monique and Shawna in this blog, decided that I needed to be fixed up with someone. I divorced after 25 years of marriage and my divorce was only final in May of 2009. I had and still have no aspirations to date and am perfectly ready to spend the second part of my life by myself. I really just wanted to be left alone and besides, I had a desire to become a cat lady. I mean, every neighborhood has one. You know, like the little lady that owned Tweety Bird. Except I probably won’t be sweet. I am on my way. I have one cat right now, and could possibly add one cat a year to fit the bill. Years ago the local newspaper had the audacity to take a picture of an elderly lady being taken from her home for a mental hygiene order because she had so many cats in her home. Well, she may have been a hoarder also. And crazy.
But, members of the lunch bunch weren’t buying it. They thought I was ready and secretly wanting to date. I, on the other hand, wanted to be queen of my very own castle, so leave me the hell alone. Queen Vickie. Anywho, for most of last fall I had to hear about it once a week or so. “We need to fix Vickie up with someone.” Uh, no you don’t. I mean, please. I am 53 years old and am more likely to get hit by a…..terrorist driving a short bus than I am to find someone who doesn’t wear tennis shoes that light up when he walks or leaves black hair polish spray on the back of the couch..or someone who smacks their mouth when they eat..or wears dentures and uses a walker. In short, I ain’t thinking about it. I have a book, a quilt, and a cat. And facebook..I’m good to go.
Well, one weekend, last fall, when maybe I was feeling sorry for myself because I wanted to go to a WVU football game and wished I had someone to go with..but I also decided to prove to my lunch pals that there aren’t any guys out there. Just goofball heads. So, I looked through the Yahoo personals…..Page one…..yikes!…Page two……omg!..,,,.Page three………seriously?…….Page four…….Teeth????……. Page 5…..Wait! Why is he on yahoo personals? I ran across someone I sort of knew…..Weird, he shouldn’t have any problem finding
Not a contender...
someone to date. Nice looking. Doesn’t appear to wear anything camouflage. (Most of the guys around here wear camouflage or deer motiff and sport a chewing tobacco smile.) Nice guys, but I am an animal lover and I guess I live in the wrong part of the country. I am not into seeing 16 pictures of a hunter holding a deer by the antlers, posing behind their pickup truck. Anyways, back to this yahoo personal guy….. I thought maybe he was doing a social experiment or someone was messing with him and put the ad in without him knowing. Hmmmm…..interesting.I don’t know. I mean, he could be a goofball head. So, I read his limited profile, since there was no way in hell I was going to join yahoo personals just to find out more about him.
Well, I ruled myself out after his first paragraph because although I could check most of the things he was looking for, because afterall, I am quite the catch and look 40 instead of 53 (Well, that’s what people tell me, seriously…and no, they aren’t blind….), but he was also looking for someone who was fit. Ok, not so fit. I mean, I need to lose some weight. I no longer weigh 108 pounds like I did just 10 years ago…Oh hell, try 15 years…ok, but my nickname was Minnie, as in Skinny Minnie, so I was living in Slenderville for most of my life. But, I now go to Healthplex, and zumba until I want to hit the instructor, but no, not so fit. But, I thought, I’m not looking anyway, remember, Vickie? But, I was sort of intrigued. I didn’t want to join Yahoo to get matched up with him, and I also didn’t want a profile on Yahoo personals..I mean, what the hell would I write? …….”Hi, I’m a 50-something, single, sarcastic, quick-witted retard, looking for someone with a pulse. Please reply.” Not going to happen. But, I was thinking…I should write to this guy…We sound like we have the same interests..I mean, I can hike…I like to write..I like photography…I like to travel…..Here I am, yahoo guy!!! So, I lost my mind and proceeded to think of a way to get in touch with him without joining Yahoo.
So, I knew where this guy worked, so I did a google on him and found his email address. Stalking is so much fun. Should I circumvent Yahoo personals and send him an email? Sure, why not. I will send a little snippet to him about how I really don’t want to date, but thought I would write anywho. I would not sign it with my name and leave it anonymous like. That way, if he had already found the woman of his dreams, he wouldn’t know who wrote the email and I could go on my merry way. Which, I really wanted to do anywho.
So, I wrote to him. I deleted all of our emails, so I will try to paraphrase the communications between the two of us. The initial one sort of went like this…
Dear (I will call him Alejandro) Alejandro, Blah blah blah, saw your profile on yahoo…blah blah…I’m not looking to date right now…blah blah…but was wondering if you are still looking for someone to meet up with? blah blah..not really wanting to give you my name right now, but I am from your town, blah blah blah.
So, he writes back within the hour. “You’re from Fairmont? Do I know you?” blah blah blah….
Dear Fernando, Well, we may have met years ago, but I haven’t seen you in a long time..blah blah blah…more bullshit….blah blah blah..still not willing or wanting to give my name..besides, I am not really your type..I’m not fit…I’m not looking to date..blah blah blah I hope you don’t mind that I circumvented the yahoo personals procedure and emailed you directly…blah blah blah.
He wrote back again..well, I thought that was nice he is writing back. He must not have found that special someone yet…. blah blah blah….”So, you know what I do for a living?”
Confused. I know what he does for a living. Weird question. Uh yeah.
Dear Roberto, Yes, I know what you do for a living. That’s how I found your email address…blah blah blah…
So, we wrote back and forth over the weekend. I must have had 5 emails from him. I was not revealing myself at all. Didn’t tell him my name or where I lived or anything. I did tell him my age. I just wanted to see if he found someone from his yahoo personal ad. So, then I saw where he has a myspace page. Hmmmm, I shall read through it…saw all of his pictures…After I read through it, I thought, well hell, this guy is sooo busy, and here I am messing with him, keeping it anonymous. I should just finally tell him who I am, and then he could block me or laugh at me ,something and again, I would go on my merry way, because, again, I want to be the neighborhood cat lady. So, I wrote a longer email to him and told him all about myself.
Dear Ale-Alejandro, I feel that I should just tell you who I am, because I don’t want to waste your time. In the end, I really don’t want to date, but I do have room for a friend..blah blah blah…
I told him my name, where I used to live, how we had the same interests and would love to at least be friends with him. He seemed witty, a bit sarcastic, and I like that. You never can have too many friends. Especially one who would take me to a WVU football game, my ultimate goal, really. Let’s goooo, Mountaineers…
So, I wrote and sat there, thinking, “What the hell is wrong with you, Vickie?” And then I just sort of shut my eyes, and hit the enter button. Done……Literally…I am soo done. I was a tad bit scared and very embarrassed because I can not believe I just did this. I didn’t want to date…Guys are goofball heads…..Well, little did I know, that in a few hours I would receive an email that was tailored just for me.
There it was a few hours later. An email from the guy. Sitting in my inbox. I was nervous. I thought that I was his type, but I wasn’t fit, so I wasn’t really his type. And, I was too old to date again…So, I sat there, staring at my inbox. It was Sunday night. Time for bed. I just couldn’t bring myself to open it. He now knows a lot about me. Maybe he remembers me from years ago. I was quite fetching years ago. (Yeah, go on and think that, Vickie) So, I opened it. And read it…OHHHH MYYYYY GODDDDD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Notice all of the exclamation marks) This was jaw dropping and cursing time……
“Dear Vickie, that was a great email that you wrote. blah blah blah…And I want you to know that although I don’t really share the same interests that you just mentioned, (?????), I am sure you are a wonderful person…..blah blah blah, but I think in the future, when you write emails like this, that you should really pay attention to the email address. I am Alejandro , but not the one you are trying to locate. blah blah blah…
Whaaaaat???? Oh Dear God, I wrote to the wrong guy!!!!!!!!!!!!! (Justified exclamation marks….) The wrong guy with the same name. I missed one stupid letter in the email address..Shit… I just sat there, stunned. I couldn’t move…..OH, shit….. And then I said out loud to myself. “Oh, this is just soooo typical.” My one cat agreed, happily. Momma’s going to the pound soon to bring home another cat.
I think I broke out in a sweat. And then I read the rest of the email. Here, because I was vague, he didn’t figure out much about me. But, it seems that he was 28, and also had a yahoo personal ad…Yeah, but I guess his personal ad was under Guy looking for GUY!!!! He thought I was a guy…a 53 year old guy writing to him. So, yeah, I was writing to the wrong guy and the wrong guy was a 28 year old gay guy with the same name, from the same city, who also happened to have a yahoo personal. Uh, yeah. Figures..This screams Vickie story.
He did say that he would delete the emails and blah blah blah…Thank God Alejandro seemed like a nice gay guy.
So, the next day, I plopped myself down at the table at lunch and told the lunch bunch the “Vickie story.” When they finished laughing hysterically at me, one of my friends (I shall call her Sharon), had the nerve to ask me, after she wiped the laughing tears from her eyes. “So, are you going to write to the real Ale-Alejandro?” And my answer, in a school building, in a professional teacher voice, was, “Are you F*cking kidding me?????” And they all cracked up again.
Yeah, this is how I roll.
So, the very next day at lunch, I had another piece of information for them. Plopped myself down, opened my yogurt, shook my head and rolled my eyes,”So, guess what I did last night?” Well, they knew I didn’t commit suicide, because I was there, sitting with them.
“I requested the real Alejandro as my facebook friend.”
My lunch bunch friend, Shawna, looked at me and calmly asked, “What is wrong with you?”
Exactly. There must be something wrong with me.
At least I am amusing.
