6 hours of convo with Bumble date #1 2020.Thursday
I had a 1 1/2 hour virtual first date last night. Yes with a retired cop. I know. Not really down my alley. But here’s how it went down.
I downloaded Bumble on Wednesday evening and put up my profile. I’m a pro at this point so it only takes me about a half hour to upload photos and write some stuffs for it.
This is my bio right now:
- Ah will you read this? We shall see!
- I’m irreverent: usage of the f-word is copious.
- I’m cuddly: touching is important, kissing, hugs, holding hands, butt pats, all of that.
- I’m talkative: an extrovert who loves being around positive people.
- I’m a thinker: love to consider ideas to learn and to analyze.
On Bumble the woman has to make the first move. I swiped right and Boom he was a match, which means he swiped right on me also. Now it is up to me to say the first thing, which I don’t mind at all.
1:47 p.m. I said, “Hi (his name), So I see the nice smile and I read the bio. Then bam there’s sincerity and then travel, books, and music. Yes this seems good. Scroll down and hold my breath. Yay! A fellow liberal and bonus points for atheist. Then that apron pic. Winning.”
I felt pretty good about the opening volley as it was completely true and sort of humorous.
1:52 p.m. He said thanks for reading and for the compliments then asked if it was Charlie Sheen winning or another type?
I said yes and he vollied with, “I am not into hookers or blow.”
That’s funny. He can communicate humor on text. Nice.
We then proceeded to text each other for three hours with only a half hour break. It was a fun convo where he asked me questions about writing and my life. He said he’s written a book about the first five years on the police department. And get this. He’s taking a free online class through Yale called “The American Written Constitution.” Yeah, just to learn bitches.
I was impressed. I told him my future plan after I retire, that I was dropping my grad program. He remembered that a few hours later when I said I had to do homework, said he thought I was dropping so he was paying attention.
He asked if I had Spotify and told me the name of a playlist he had so I went to listen to it for the afternoon. Some of it I really liked, some I didn’t. He said my profile was great. I asked what he liked. He said, “The way you present yourself as is. Genuine. And easy on the eyes.”
Those are all things I liked to hear.
I told him I was genuine to a fault. I said I’d rather put out there who I was because I know it annoys some people. He liked cursing and touch too. He then asked my favorite curse word and I went with the average “fuck” since it can work on so many levels. His were “motherfucker” and “cocksucker.” Said they were heavyweight words. We talked about cursing, and then he asked about my kids. As I told him their ages I remembered I had lied about my age on Bumble. I’ve written about this a little bit and my Australian blogger friend Eve has in a much more intelligent way than I did:
I still believe that my age is my business and no one else’s. Unless I’m doing this dating thing with someone who clearly states their intention to settle down and raise a family, why does it matter? Why does anyone have to be judged by their age, or why should anyone have to state it upfront in flashing lights and lay themselves bare to the endless assumptions and stereotypes about what that age entails?https://midlifedatingadventures.com/2017/10/07/the-thorny-topic-of-a-womans-age-pt-2/
I always tell people on the first date but I felt I should tell him now as I already liked him and wanted to get it out of the way.
“Damn it,” I wrote. “I must tell you something… I lied on my bio.”
“Do tell,” he said.
“I am 55. But neither act nor feel like it. So… yeah. Sorry about that. You may exit the building if you need.”
“Why lie?” he asked.
“I don’t show up in searches. The age is such bullshit. I ran circles around my ex who is 10 years younger.”
“Why tell me the truth?” he asked. (Aren’t these good questions you guys?)
“So it’s a choice of finding someone I’m compatible with versus a number. I always tell people, usually on the first date but I’m really liking our convo and wanted to tell you up front. All my pix are from last fall through last week.”
“Have men gotten pissed off?”
“No one ever has. When we meet, they see the number isn’t me.”
“If I were shorter than my listed height — I am not– would that bother you?”
He is trying to see if I am a hypocrite. Nice. Seriously I like that he is checking this.
“No,” I said. “I never look at that. I really don’t even look at age except I don’t want to be with someone too young. I look at the eyes and the smile, then the bio, then politics.”
“Smile is on my list as well. I don’t mind that you are 55 and am not upset at a fib.”
I was glad that I had gotten that out of the way. We messaged bit more then he asked if any odd men had sent me a like. Oh my. This is not a message convo.
So I asked him for a virtual date that night. He said yes and that he’d be casual. I said I’d save the gold sequin dress for another day, he said he’d save his pinstriped suit. I said perhaps we could bust out the suit and the dress on a future occasion and he in a disappointing fashion just said, “Ok.”
I questioned that, “Ok? Just ok? Ahem sir. I do not think you know the awesomeness of the gold sequin dress and how I fill it out.” Hey just being honest. It is worth some excitement.
He asked for a photo but I explained that it has not had a maiden voyage yet, that I had only worn it in the try-on room at the thrift store. (I was not feeling putting it on that moment for a photo either.)
I asked if he really had said pinstriped suit and he sent a photo. He was quite handsome in the suit I must say. I sent a photo of a different gold dress. I said the sequin dress was sad to wait for her maiden voyage and he said, “Patience Grasshopper,” to which I replied, “I kinda like you already.”
He called promptly at 7 which I somehow hung up on and then called him right back.
We talked for an hour an a half straight and it wasn’t awkward. It was relaxing and fun and interesting.
No concerns for a see-where-this goes-fun kinda thing.
Two concerns for a long-term sitch. He is choosing his next place to live based on state income taxes. And when I said I had a high sex drive in our message convo he said his was okay.
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