Delores Melon

Man and I met in an ONLINE CHAT ROOM. That’s me emphasizing the point. I think I’ve discussed this previously but in case I didn’t I’ll try to recap briefly. I was doing my normal AOL “*insert my state here*’s chat room” shenanigans and apparently, so was Man, from the comfort of his room. He, however, was showing his cousin the fun to be had online. So somehow we started chatting in a private room. Which isn’t nearly as dirty and nasty as it sounds. What I did not realize though, is that I was chatting with two people. Not one.

They combined the finer points of each of them into this persona. Unfortunately I was completely annoyed by this “person”. I definitely remember telling him I lived in bumblefuck, *insert my state here*. I’m so eloquent. I didn’t learn until later that he was a prude that didn’t use “harsh” language. Whatever. For some reason, though, I was intrigued all the same. We chatted for weeks and I eventually found out about the initial LIES. Man got me straight on the facts that pertained to him. I honestly couldn’t stand him those early chats. His ego was astounding. Still is. At least now I can withhold sex to spite him.

So after a few weeks of mindless chatting, we upgraded to the telephone. That’s when I started to soften. Although he would imitate his DOG TALKING.. which was pretty damn annoying and I remember telling him not to do that anymore. It annoyed me that much, I remember it thirteen years later. So, we chat, then talk, then agreed to meet. By this time, though, I was pretty much mush for him. I don’t know what changed but it did. My parents could tell I wasn’t nearly as nasty as I normally was. I don’t think I was farting flowers or anything but I wasn’t kicking puppies either.

We planned to meet at the mall that was pretty much equal distance to both of us. I figured a mall was safe since most serial killers don’t massacre their victims outside of Sears. Although, how convenient would that be… run into Sears, but a chain saw, hack up the body in the parking lot with brand new chain saw. You could handle any returns immediately should your brand new chain saw have trouble cutting through the skull. I digress.

What I remember about our first meeting: I parked near his vehicle without knowing which was his. I was really shocked how good looking he was, since the picture he sent almost made me change my AOL account information. He had REALLY NICE LEGS. *still does.. heh heh…* I remember this but it’s fuzzy… apparently we were discussing how people that live in his hometown are notorious for missing a lot of teeth, and he showed me that he’s chock full of pearly whites. Like, he grinned this crazy person grin to prove he wasn’t a true hillbilly. Swear to god.

What HE remembers: I wore a skirt with sneakers. In my defense I wore Keds. It’s totally OK to do that AND this was the nineties. He’s now my official fashion consultant. He remembers that I made him go shopping with me prior to the movie so I could buy an ugly skirt. That’s what he remembers. My skirt and sneaker faux pas and ugly skirt fetish. He also remembers what he wore.

So we went to dinner first. I ordered a stuffed baked potato. I am positive I went for that because whenever I go somewhere that even slightly involves anxiety, my intestines form a revolt. I could go a week with no food, barely any water and if someone invited me to a public gathering, magic poo would form in my bowels and cause me to have diarrhea. All NIGHT. Anyway, he ordered the same thing because allegedly, he couldn’t think straight and just ordered what I ordered.

After dinner we went to a movie, The Rock I believe. A good movie. He didn’t talk through it. I might have. We didn’t make out. Remember, he’s mister goody two-shoes. Plus we weren’t fourteen years old. After the movie we laughed when we realized how close we parked. I tried to show him my tattoos.. on my boob and pelvis. He recalls me throwing myself at him. I recall being miffed he didn’t want to see my tattoos. He kissed me on the cheek.

I drove home and called my mom on my cell phone that was as big as a shoe (nineties, remember) and said “hubba hubba”. Yes, I really said that.