...but you do believe in truth in advertising, especially when it comes to online dating profiles. In fact, over the years you've been known to brag about your skills at weeding through the profile lies of boys who misrepresent themselves. You've gotten good at scouring photographs for the twentith century artifacts (leg warmers, Flowbee haircuts, Gloria Vanderbilt jeans) found in the background of photos that some tricky old man scanned into his profile because his twenty-first century JPEG's don't warrant nearly as much attention.
But there are no red flags in the Nice Jewish Boy's profile who just wrote and asked if you'd like to meet for coffee. He lives in the 212, his pictures are cute (and current) and his profile is not only succinct, but everything is actually spelled correctly (it's the little things in life...) His profile even has a funny little blurb about how his potential dates shouldn't be alcoholics because he's looking for a sober driver. You chuckle to yourself as you email the Nice Jewish Spell Checker back and tell him enough with this coffee crap already! You'd be into meeting for a real drink. But you inform him that Manischewitz is an aquired taste and that he shouldn't be offended when your Irish Catholic liver drinks him under the table. Although you certainly can't be his sober driver, you promise to hail his drunk ass a cab before you go out for a nightcap.
Your correspondence is quick and easy and plans are made right away. You decide to grab a drink at East of Eighth before you trek over to Brooklyn for a Bowling Birthday Party--you learned long ago (the hard way) that it was absolutely imperative to schedule these Match.com meet-n-greets immediately prior to other evening plans so that you always have a built-in out. Even when you don't...
Later that evening, you're running a bit late because of poorly advertised Weekend Subway Advisories, so you text the Nice Jewish Spell Checker and say you're running a few minutes late. He T9's you back, sans spelling errors, and informs you that the bar is crowded but that he's scored a little table in the back. It all sounds very romantic. Could he be the one?
When you arrive you recognize him instantly because, surprise-surprise, he actually looks like his profile photos. Cute. He smiles and you wave to him as you make your way through the crowded bar. You appologize for being late as you extend your arm and introduce yourself. That's when the Nice Jewish Spell Checker stands up, shakes your hand, and offers to get the first round of drinks. Only his movement is barely perceptible because when he stands up, he's pretty much the same exact height he was when seated. You quickly realize that the grossly overrated 5' 7" claims made by the 5' 2" liar standing (sitting?) in front of you would definitely slip through the cracks of the Microsoft Word's Spell Check. Although he can definitely spell, the Nice Jewish Spell Checker is actually in dire need of a Fact Checker. Or at the very least, a non-metric ruler... Anyway.
But there are no red flags in the Nice Jewish Boy's profile who just wrote and asked if you'd like to meet for coffee. He lives in the 212, his pictures are cute (and current) and his profile is not only succinct, but everything is actually spelled correctly (it's the little things in life...) His profile even has a funny little blurb about how his potential dates shouldn't be alcoholics because he's looking for a sober driver. You chuckle to yourself as you email the Nice Jewish Spell Checker back and tell him enough with this coffee crap already! You'd be into meeting for a real drink. But you inform him that Manischewitz is an aquired taste and that he shouldn't be offended when your Irish Catholic liver drinks him under the table. Although you certainly can't be his sober driver, you promise to hail his drunk ass a cab before you go out for a nightcap.
Your correspondence is quick and easy and plans are made right away. You decide to grab a drink at East of Eighth before you trek over to Brooklyn for a Bowling Birthday Party--you learned long ago (the hard way) that it was absolutely imperative to schedule these Match.com meet-n-greets immediately prior to other evening plans so that you always have a built-in out. Even when you don't...
Later that evening, you're running a bit late because of poorly advertised Weekend Subway Advisories, so you text the Nice Jewish Spell Checker and say you're running a few minutes late. He T9's you back, sans spelling errors, and informs you that the bar is crowded but that he's scored a little table in the back. It all sounds very romantic. Could he be the one?
When you arrive you recognize him instantly because, surprise-surprise, he actually looks like his profile photos. Cute. He smiles and you wave to him as you make your way through the crowded bar. You appologize for being late as you extend your arm and introduce yourself. That's when the Nice Jewish Spell Checker stands up, shakes your hand, and offers to get the first round of drinks. Only his movement is barely perceptible because when he stands up, he's pretty much the same exact height he was when seated. You quickly realize that the grossly overrated 5' 7" claims made by the 5' 2" liar standing (sitting?) in front of you would definitely slip through the cracks of the Microsoft Word's Spell Check. Although he can definitely spell, the Nice Jewish Spell Checker is actually in dire need of a Fact Checker. Or at the very least, a non-metric ruler... Anyway.
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