Happy Valentine’s Day! Today I’ve got something special to share. It’s a short story I wrote titled She Looked Normal in Her Picture. It takes online dating, preconceived notions, current events and throws them together into one bizarre first date.
I exhaled a breath of happy relief into the night air as I saw Naomi approach from the parking lot. She looked as pretty in person as she did in her pictures. Green eyes, medium brown hair just past her shoulders, a great smile with sparkling white teeth, full lips glossed with red lipstick, and a sleek neck that I wanted to kiss the moment her profile came up on my MacBook screen as a potential match.
Not that she’d given me any reason to doubt her looks in real life would be different than the photos she put on her profile. But if three months of online dating had taught me anything, the women I met in person didn’t always closely resemble the pictures that originally enticed me.
Naomi was different. As she approached, I believed she might possibly look more incredible in person than she did in her pictures.
“James?” she asked.
“Hi Naomi,” I answered.
She smiled. I expected a nice little handshake but instead she hugged me. Her body felt amazing next to mine. I could see myself never tiring of such embraces from her the rest of my natural life.
“Hungry?” I asked.
“Famished,” she said.
We walked over to California Pizza Kitchen’s front doors. I opened one and held it for her. My mother had raised me to be a gentleman. My father had trained me to enjoy the view from the rear as much as the one from the front. He would’ve appreciated the view.
How had I gotten so lucky to meet a woman like this?
I never wanted to be an online dater. I liked meeting women the old fashioned way, randomly while pretending not to be looking. But I hadn’t had a serious relationship in almost two years. My prospects for a girlfriend weren’t mounting up either.
After plenty of badgering from my mom, who wanted me to meet someone nice, and too many Saturday nights chilling solo with Netflix, I caved. I joined an online dating site and cast my line into the cyber-lake of love.
My profile focused on the important basics I wanted in a girlfriend. I sought a women seeking men ages 25 through 35 with at least a Bachelor’s Degree, average or athletic body type, politically moderate to conservative, a Christian who attended church regularly, and lived within 30 miles of my apartment.
One night as I scrolled through my potential matches, Naomi’s beautiful face slid on to my screen. I stopped my browsing immediately and clicked to see her other pictures. She looked great, professional, and fun. I decided to read her profile.
I instantly saw that she lined up quite well with my parameters. Naomi was 30, a lawyer, with a slender physique. She considered herself very conservative, attended church weekly, and lived in Newport Beach. I lived slightly south of her in Irvine, was 33 at the time, ran my own business, considered myself a conservative Republican, and was active in my church.
Based on our dating profiles we were potentially perfect for each other. Naturally, I sent her a message introducing myself.
A few hours later she replied. We messaged back and forth for a few days. We had a lot in common and were quite comfortable with each other. I asked for her number and she gave it. She wasn’t a fan of texting, so I called her. She had the sweetest voice that definitely matched the woman in the pictures.
After a few “getting-to know-you” pleasantries, she got right to the point.
“I’ve found that it’s better to meet someone right away rather than go on forever online or on the phone,” she said. “You really can’t tell if you’re compatible with someone until you meet them in person.”
I agreed and suggested we meet for dinner the upcoming Saturday. That’s how I wound up sitting across from Naomi at the California Pizza Kitchen for a first date I’d never forget.
Unfortunately, it wasn’t for all the wonderful reasons I’d hoped would make the evening memorable.
Our waiter had brought our drinks and taken our orders. We sat there together at the table. I couldn’t help staring at her. She may have been the most gorgeous woman I’d ever had the privilege to take out. The next time I talked to my mom I’d have to thank her for pushing me to go online in my pursuit of romance.
Naomi leaned across the table as if she was about to tell me a secret. I moved my beer aside and leaned close to her.
“Aren’t these liberals driving you crazy?” she asked.
“I know. I don’t even want to be on Facebook anymore.”
“You’re friends with liberals?” She appeared astonished by the thought.
“Kind of hard not to be, especially here in California.”
Naomi sat back in her chair. The smile disappeared from her lips. Her eyes conveyed disappointment in me.
“I don’t want any of them as friends. They’d put us all in re-education camps if they could get away with it,” she said.
“Excuse me?” I said. I hadn’t seen that coming at all.
“That’s what Marxists do. They call themselves progressives, but they’re Marxist-Leninists. And Marxist-Leninists always imprison conservatives and intellectuals.”
“Well, that’s why we support the Second Amendment, right?”
“Exactly. What do you own?”
“You mean guns?”
“Yeah. How many do you have?”
“Uh, none.”
“But you said you support the Second Amendment.”
“I do, but it doesn’t mean I have to own a gun.”
She eyed me with great suspicion.
“You’re not really a conservative, are you?”
“Because I don’t have a firearm?”
“No, it’s more than that.”
“Well, I’ve never voted for a Democrat and I think Trump’s already doing a great job shaking things up in Washington.”
Our conversation had taken a weird turn. I’d hoped that statement would score me some quick points and get things on the right track again. It didn’t.
“He’s not a conservative either,” Naomi said. “He was a Democrat most of life.”
“Well he’s a Republican now.”
“He’s a complete phony. And all of the so-called conservatives like you that supported him will be sorry when he turns on you.”
Now I felt I had to defend my political ideology, which isn’t really the best way to start a first date.
“You know I’m against higher taxes, big government, and abortion,” I said.
“I’m pretty sure that classifies me as a conservative.”
“How do you feel about inter-racial marriage?”
“Excuse me?” I said for the second time. Had I heard her right?
“You support it, don’t you?” she said as if accusing me of advocating for pedophile rights.
“I didn’t think it had been an issue in our lifetime,” I said.
“Maybe not for you, but I don’t believe in the mixing of the races.”
“That’s what you think makes you a conservative?”
“It’s scientifically proven that intermarriage spreads a lot of hereditary diseases.”
“Actually, it’s not. It’s quite the opposite.”
“I don’t think it is.”
Two things came to mind at that moment that directed my next course of action. One, you can’t change a persons mind about political issues once they’re dug in. Naomi was dug in.
Two, when a date doesn’t work out you need to walk away and not look back. You don’t want to try and be friends later. It’s best to just get it over quickly.
“Let me ask you a question,” I said.
“Sure.”
“What do you think about slavery?”
“It’s illegal.”
“It didn’t used to be. And do you see those seats over there?” I pointed to the chairs where people sat at the counter looking into the kitchen.
“Yeah.”
“Do you think that counter should be a sign on it that says ‘Whites Only’?”
“I’ve somehow given you the impression that I’m prejudiced,” she said without a glimmer of irony.
“Only from the things you’ve said.”
“Then you must’ve misunderstood me.”
“No, I think you’ve been pretty clear.”
“I’m not prejudiced.”
“You sure about that?”
She leaned in conspiratorially toward me. This time I didn’t lean in too.
“Well there is one group of people I can’t stand,” she said in a quiet voice.
“And who would that be?”
“The Jews.”
I nearly fell out of my chair.
“And you’re not prejudiced?”
“No. My opinion is completely based on my own personal experiences with them not some stupid ethnic stereotype.”
“Okay, so what is your personal experience that makes you hate the Jews?”
“They’re all money grubbing and greedy.”
I leaned back in my seat and took a long drink of my beer. I set my glass back down on the table and smiled at her.
“Holy shit. I had no idea I’d be taking David Duke out tonight.”
Guinness should record that evening as the longest and most uncomfortable date in human history.
We didn’t say much the rest of the dinner. I’d hoped she’d want to split the check. She didn’t. I got stuck with the entire bill. We didn’t share a good-bye hug when we went outside, nor even a handshake. We said goodnight and I headed off into the parking lot.
I deleted Naomi’s number from my phone before I got to my car. Once I returned to my apartment I deactivated my dating profile. From now on I’d stick with the old fashioned way of meeting women. That’s the only way to tell if a woman’s personality is as alluring as her looks.
As I lay there alone in bed after a couple hours of streaming Netflix, I couldn’t help but feel a bit sad. What should have been an amazing evening and perhaps the start of something wonderful had turned out quite the opposite.
Damn.
She’d looked so normal in her picture.
The End
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