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Who the hell is Craig?

On Superman’s advice and guidance, I’ve been dabbling on Craigslist and even scored myself a date. She and I had gone back and forth in e-mail, rather quickly I might add, before deciding to go eat.

Well, we ate together.

I’ll spare you all the details but in general she was a very nice girl who was still in the ‘trying to figure everything out’ stage. She has been divorced less than a year (something she failed to mention) and has a 7-year old son (something else she failed to mention).

She sort of reminded me of one of the women I used to work with – a LOT! In the dim light of the restaurant, with her head turned the right way it was almost comical. Same mannerisms… everything.

I’ve also been in contact with another one that seems to suit me much better. I couldn’t craft better words from her even if I could. Well, I could but they wouldn’t be very realistic (you know what I mean…)

I had sent my picture to this other ‘contender’ a week ago and I never heard from her again so when this new girl intimated that I should send her my picture I cringed a bit, not wanting to lose her. So far she’s dead on. I tap danced around the issue in the e-mail and ended with “you first?”

Well, she did and I have absolutely NO complaints. She’s a piping hottie! Okay, so now I’m feeling a little intimidated by her beauty. I honestly don’t have a good picture of myself. I mean, I have pictures of myself but none that I would share outside of my close friends and family. I swear, it’s not a vanity thing.

I’m okay with how I look. I have no problem meeting her out somewhere. In fact, my date last night relayed this story to me as she was sitting down: She approached the hostess center at the restaurant and said she was there for a blind date. The hostess must have acknowledged that I was there. “What does he look like?” my date asked. The hostess described my general features – height, hair, that I wear glasses – and then said, “Don’t worry – he’s handsome”.

If it was the same hostess that seated me – she was a cutie pie. My logical mind tells me that the hostess was just trying to allay some fears of my date that I was hideous. Which, of course, I’m not.

At this point in my life, I wish I photographed better.

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