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the girl from California
the girl from California
Some time after my first couple of stupid online flings, i decided to hang up my keyboard forever. Quit the whole online dating thing, because it must not work for anyone.
About this time, I started chatting with a girl.
I told her right away, I don't date from online. It's stupid and a waste of my time. Plus the woman never really ends up to be as advertised.
She seemed cool with that, and we just chatted about random things for a few weeks.
At some point I asked the basic questions: how old are you, what do you look like, what do you do for a living, what are your interests, what are your plans for the future... basically as a way to keep the conversation flowing.
She described herself as african american, shy, a few years older than me (in the range of 26 or 27,) a business owner, about 135 lbs, short (5'4") and planning on a family and a growing career.
She loved my art and my interest in martial arts... things seemed to progress.
After that, she called me, she sent me a birthday card, she mailed me a picture of herself. I was beginning to warm up to her. She called me and we talked on the phone. I loved her alto african voice, she loved my italian accent. Things were fun and interesting, a distraction from those first stressful years of college.
Then, at the end of my first 2 years, I started saying we should meet.
Dumbass me, right? But why not. I mean we hit it off so well on the phone and the computer and in written word.
Suddenly she dissapeared. Poof! no phonecalls, no emails, might as well have died on me.
Then about 2 weeks later, she calls from a hotel about 10 miles from my house. Time for the moment of truth...
I shower, shave, dress up, get ready to make my move.
When she opens the door, she is a very large woman. Very large. Bigger than me, perhaps, and I am a large man. Her face is similar to the pic, but the rest of her is nowhere near the advertising.
We sit and talk for a long time, and she explains that she was very ill with a glandular disorder that caused a massive wieght gain. She cries and apologizes, and I feel bad for judging her.
When we talk, if i look away or close my eyes I get turned on. I mean the voice is the same, right? but when i look at her I feel a sense of dread. This is not how I pictured the moment.
She reaches down at one point and sees how my subconscious is reacting. With effort we shed clothing and a dance of futility ensues.
No matter how hard I try, I cannot make myself do the final act. When she lies on the bed and invites me to "go inside" i realize this isn't happening.
I'm mad because she's not what she told me, I'm mad because earlier on in foreplay she yanked and hurt my member, and I'm mad because her ass is actually larger than my penis is long. I feel like overcomming these technical issues is not something I should have to be concerned with, and I walk away with serious blue balls.
flip ahead to now, years later, and I was thinking about her again. Just what went wrong in that whole situation? On a whim, i punched her into a background checking service, and found out that this year she is 53 years old.
So, not only did she trick me about her looks, but also her age and God knows what else.
So, if i can go through all that and remain heterosexual and get back out there and try again, imagine what you can do?
There's always hope, no matter how stupid people can be.