The Truthiness Hurts

So, I met this girl on match.com and I'm supposed to meet her tomorrow for the first time. She's beautiful with dark hair and intelligent eyes and very feminine features, and she directs off-broadway plays for this theater troupe (do they still call them that?). I wrote her a note and she wrote back, and we've been emailing back and forth.

Anyways, she sent me a link to her theater company's website and as I was perusing it, I noticed a blog that she maintains. The entry above was the first one on there, dated November 7 (Yesterday).

To cut a long story short, I thought I was the ugly guy she mentions and it really did give me an almighty jolt. I mean, I leapt back from my computer at work in one motion, like Scooby Doo when he leaps back in fright, straight into Shaggy's arms. Except for me, there was no Shaggy. I picked myself up and sat back down at the computer and read the entry again.

Phew. She says she ended up NOT writing him back. She wrote me back so this can't be about me, right? What if she's just fronting with her friends..you know, won't admit on her blog that she's going out with an uggo. Ridiculous. Why would she? Well, maybe it's been a while and she's experimenting with lowering her standards. Rubbish. The rest of her entries seem honest and she has a straight-up approach about her, she doesn't dress things up. But what if...

You get the picture.

I had to slap myself like an adulterous wife in order to get a grip. We live in an age where our looks need to be media-ready at all times and I'm here to tell you that men are no longer resistant to not caring about how they're perceived. It doesn't make me go crazy suspecting that I'm not all that in the looks department..because I know that my package (no, not that package...though I have to admit that package is pretty impressive. Call me.)-my whole package-is more or less on the appealing side. Still, being called out on looks like that is straight up cold yo! It really made me worry because I would never expect a girl to call me a "no way in hell". Maybe a "not all that" or a "Hmmm, nothing to write home about" but a "No way in hell"?? That's worse than "Not if he was the last man on earth". That's down there, man!

Could I possibly be a troll and not even know it? That would explain why villagers attack me with torches and pitchforks whenever I go to the Hamptons. Do trolls even know they're trolls? If a troll falls in the wood...ok, ok, you get the picture.

One thing is clear: I'm going to go meet that girl tomorrow and I'm going to put this episode out of my mind. I'm going to be on top of my game: charming, witty, friendly, relaxed and focused. I've been on the scene long enough to know that it's all about what you bring to the table, the confidence you exude, the chemistry you share and the got-your-shit-togetherness you bring that ultimately determines the success of adult relationships. And good looks, especially understated ones like mine, are so not the focus. In fact, I can score points by pretending not to know how good-looking I am. Pretend to be genuinely puzzled by it. Pretend to be mildly embarrassed by all the attention my looks afford me. That's the way to do it!

Keep telling that to yourself, Quasimodo.