I met this older guy online months ago. His pictures told me we weren’t a match (due to the content, not his physical appearance), but it was a hushed Thursday in SF when he asked me to come by his place, so I obliged. Mind you, he lived in Pacific Heights…..an affluent neighborhood in which he boasted a phenomenal view of the city from his three story rental. Also, he described himself to me as a “sapiosexual”. Now if you aren’t familiar with that term, it means:
“One who finds the content’s of someone else’s mind to be their most attractive attribute, above and before their physical characteristics.”
Cool, a thinker! I can dig that (I ever so optimistically surmised).
He had me park in his private garage. Instead of impressed, I was a bit sketched out. “Should I be sending out an SOS to my friends??” (was my initial thought). But as is often the case, curiosity got the best of me.
As he lead me into this 70’s inspired maze of a house, I couldn’t help but be intrigued. There were rooms every which way, a bed next to the living room, and a build-in bar in the third story room, leading to the massive patio overlooking the city. It was messy but unique, and by majority standards, a bachelor pad. The best part was a dressing room, just off of the master bedroom, with 360 degree mirrors. I wasn’t sure if I was on an episode of Cribs, or in a nightmare, just before a posse of clowns appeared in the mirrors surrounding me.
He asked me if I would like a cocktail and of course I couldn’t turn him down, simply to ease the awkwardness of the moment. At this point in the meet, I realized he was one of those “loves to hear his own voice” type of guys. The second I started talking, he would talk over me. His stories being far more important than mine, apparently. Also, all of the things I had told him online about my line of work and current studies in school, had clearly gone in one ear and out the other….as he asked me yet again upon meeting, then acted as if it were new information to him. Turns out, he is one of those EDM enthusiasts. A full grown raver with an evident admiration of well known DJ’s. A business owner; a successful one at that. Although, he seemed uninterested in business talk. So I navigated the conversation to the very safe “what are your other hobbies” zone.
“Well, those plants out there are my hobby right now”, he answered. He points to the handful of large succulents on his oversized patio. Now, forgive me if I’m wrong, but to my knowledge, succulents are the least needy of all plant life. And based on the rest of my observations, his life was pretty devoid of any real meaning. He works a ton, but doesn’t care to talk about it. His home is unique but completely unkempt. And his amazing view of this city by the bay is scarcely adorned with mega speakers and succulents. His disinterest in getting to know me was keenly obvious at that point and I wondered why I was sitting on that couch attempting to engage with someone who had no real intent of engaging back.
His drink making skills were above average, I’ll give him that. But at this point, there were no cocktails strong enough to deter me from planning my exit strategy. To my advantage, he kept checking his phone. Apologizing for the distraction, but continually saying his company was in the middle of mergers and acquisitions agreements. I assured him he didn’t need to apologize, nor did I need to be entertained. So I crept out onto the magnificent, yet neglected terrace and snapped a few pics, for my own enjoyment.
Assuming he sensed my boredom and apprehension, he then offered for us to get together the coming weekend instead. I told him I had my kids and maybe some other time. He walked me to my car and waved me off.
Our hearts were clearly beating to the beat of very different drums. His more of the auto tune type. But thanks for the stiff drink and the view, sir.
Another one bites the dust.