Disclaimer: I think I fall into the attractive subset of society, but am fully aware that I only float some people's boats. So, I do realize that the impressive initial online response I received had more to do with me being "fresh meat" with mildly symmetrical features than being "gorgeous."
Before creating my dating profile, I looked at a few other chicks' to get an idea of what to do. Big mistake. I felt about a hundred years old. Frantic thoughts flew into my mind. What happened to the world while I was married? Should I be taking pucker-faced selfies in front of a mirror? Why does everyone look sexy all the time? Does J. Crew make deeper v-neck tees?
I knew I had to stop trying to make my profile match that of my single female peers and gave myself ten minutes to just write it. It was short, to the point, and mildly snarky/ironic to keep the idiots away. I found three recent pre-pregnancy shots and hastily cropped out the ex-husband. Then I pressed "post," closed my computer, and went to take my napping baby on our daily walk to Dunkin' Donuts (his idea, not mine).
On the mile trek there, my phone started pinging nonstop. By the time I reached the high-class coffee establishment, I had fifty messages in my inbox. I felt like a supermodel. A fall wedding would be nice. Then I looked at the messages:
Hey u. what's up (about twenty of those).
Your a milf. (totally offended by his use of the wrong your!)
What idiot would leave you with a goddamn baby?! What you got, a wooden leg or somethin? Call me (516) 324-****. -Anthony (my favorite)
So, when I received a somewhat coherent email from a dashing-looking single dad in Connecticut, I felt like I had hit the lottery and responded. We met the next week and so begins the story of the pretentious boyfriend.
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