Mr. Architect – Will you build me a house?

Apparently Plenty of Fish (POF) doesn’t let you send someone a message if you haven’t at least uploaded one picture of yourself first.  THIS kind of a rule is amazing.   Online dating is so much better when there’s pics.

Yet Mr. Architect found this out the hard way when he came across my profile and immediately wanted to contact me.  (He later tells me how and why he initially reached out.)

Seeing as how he’s a very private guy, he didn’t want to upload any pictures.  However, he saw me and wanted to contact me, so up a picture went.

Operation: Talk To This Girl, began.

First, he added me as a Favorite.

I ignored it.

Big deal.  Tons of people add me as a favorite, but never do anything beyond that.  Plus, your profile’s pretty blank, dude.  Not interested.

A few days pass.  He then sent me a message:

“Good morning…”

That was it.

So, naturally, I ignored it, also.

Not because I’m a snob, but if that’s all you’re going to give me in your first message, I’m not interested.  It’s not my job to create your profile (or conversation) FOR you!

Besides, after the hundredth first-ever message from guys like: “Hi.” “Hey there.” “What’s up?” “Hey beautiful.” “How are you?” ….I want to stab my eye with a pencil. Where’s the originality?!

Points for someone who knows how to communicate! Yes, even online, it’s a stretch nowadays, and someone who can string together more than two original sentences is already sexier than the other “Hi” guy. Ugh.  Kill me.

A few days later, this guy who had actually listed his profession on his very limited profile as “Sales Professional”, decided to give it one more shot.

He finally sends:

“Hello,

You’re gorgeous and I think you’re just stunning! And I’m sure you’re bright and put together as well, and I would love to talk sometime, or if you’re up for it, even meet……I’m a 6’4″ architect ~ funny, bright, cool laid-back guy who is also very fit.

You can check me out via my website (insert his company website here) and or contact/email me on FB.

Cheers,
(insert his first initial, last initial here)”

NOW we’re talking! I loved the extra info. And a girl LOVES to hear she’s stunning and beautiful.

I was listening…

I loved the mini-pitch of who he is (an architect, huh?), and that he gave me extra links to look up (ie – stalk) him online.

Winning!

So, naturally, I stalk.

Before I even consider responding, I jump to his website.

Oh! Very nice! I see pics of his portfolio from some projects he’s worked on and I’m immediately impressed.  I see the same picture he’s uploaded to his POF profile under the “About Us” tab for his Residential Design firm.  A lengthy bio explains not only who he is, but that he specializes in the Classical tradition, with special emphasis on American renaissance period between 1880 – 1930.  He’s LEGIT!

I remember that I had listed “Interior Design” as one of my interests on my POF profile, because this stuff fascinates me.  I’m immediately intrigued.

So then I stalk him on Facebook, and after jumping over to my FB app to type in his name, I find we already have 10 friends in common here in Los Angeles.  Whoa! That’s gotta be a good thing, right?

So I respond to this very patient man’s message and let him know how glad I was that I didn’t have to stab my eye with a pencil (j/k).

I loved his note, told him I was interested and then gave him my digits.

I ended my note with:

“PS – If this works out, will you build me a house?”

Joking, of course, and a few hours later I receive a text from him.  He announces who he is and that yes, if this works out, he’ll build me a house. :)

I smiled, took a quick trip down Fantasy Lane to pick out some fabulous drapes, beautiful paint choices and shiny slabs of granite, and then went about my business.

Next step: a phone call. After that? A date…

Facebook Is a Snitch (upDATE: Mr. Can I Get A Vowel)

It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve turned into a Private Investigator and gone to social media to find somebody to stalk,… err, I mean, look at.

We all do it.

And with new dates popping up faster than the Orville Redenbacker popcorn machine at the movie theater, I’ve got to find extra info on these boyz STAT, yo!

Remember Mr. Can I Get A Vowel?

Well thank goodness he’s missing a vowel in how to spell his name cuz he was the ONLY guy on Facebook that came up in my search. How convenient!

He’s still texting me everyday, calling me “baby” (Btw, what is that with guys? I’m not your baby until we’re exclusive! Do you know how many people’s “baby” I am?? It’s getting watered down.  Ugh.), and he’s tried to see me again (I already had plans that night) .

Let’s see what this guy’s REAL story is…

His profile? Pretty barren and locked down. Most recent profile pic was from 2011, and it was one of the same ones from his dating profile.

I couldn’t see or learn anything else, really. I flipped through a few old pics in an album on the red carpet with his brother, the guy in the NBA. Meh. Whatevs. Nothing too shocking. No women in his pix, just a bunch of guy friends. He still looks good, though.

But THEN… I see it.

A picture on his timeline from 2011, a selfie of a woman he had tagged as “my friend.”

She’s a pretty Asian girl and right away I remember him saying on our first date that he has a crazy, Asian ex. Whatever that means.

So naturally I click through to her profile and lo and behold, her current default profile pic is both her AND Mr. Can I Get A Vowel all hugged up together.

Further, her cover photo is of him and her at a zoo.

Busted.

I dig deeper to find the dates these pics were taken. Turns out, it was awhile ago but she had just re-uploaded them a few weeks back. I can read a public comment thread and see her tell her aunt who commented on how cute they are together that she “loves him very much!”

Hmmm.

Either they just broke up recently and she’s not quite ready to let go of their 3+ year relationship, or they’re still together.

Either way, I ain’t the one!

Too messy. And as I told him, I’m looking for a more serious relationship. I couldn’t expect anyone to be ready to jump right back into one.

I ended up questioning him about it. He said he had already “explained” the situation me. (No, playa, you didn’t. I’m pretty sure I would have recalled that info.)

So I told him I ain’t the one, and he said he wishes me the best and that I deserve the best.

Yes. Yes, I do.

Vanna, out.

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