Divorced Dating in the DMV

So I signed up for an online dating website...I needed some amusement in my life since Vanderpump Rules season is over.

One of my Cats (aka Girlfriends- because you know I am going to die alone with 72 Cats in a pink bathrobe) is a federal probation officer. Ginger (a code name of course as paying homage to her hair color, although don't ask me if the carpet matches the drapes because I have no clue if it is natural, but it matches her personality, and everyone needs a Ginger) and I decide all the good men are taken...or in jail....as she reads a letter an inmate sent to her. I guess we have to lock them up and take away the competition for them to realize what a prize we are.

So within moments of signing up for said online dating...the Hobbit contacts me- seemingly not remembering who I am. Now let me explain I am the Statue of Liberty for men. Give me your tired, your poor, emotionally unavailable men...I am a magnet for any one of them that has any eccentricities or undiagnosed untreated mental health issues. The Hobbit is a vice president of a division within a major travel website that basically you are residing with Patrick under a rock in Bikini Bottom if you don't know what this site is. He was mysterious when he first contacted me over a year ago. The Hobbit asked me to go to a cabin during ski season in a state of the US that is probably wintery 9 months of the year. Even though he provided his Linked In account; I guess this is the new way of verifying people's identities as in I have been provided linked in profiles on other occasions when someone was trying to induce me to be put into a dangerous situation, I was picturing Stephen King's Misery in the Midwest with Kathy Bates. I was going to be clubbed in the ankles and not able to come home.

So he left the DC area to visit me in the state I was residing in at the time. When he showed up, well he was The Hobbit. Thank goodness I didn't wear heels, as he was in my height (height is not a bad thing because I consider that fun size- a lot of great things come in small packages), but he had clothed pointy shoes and his clothing was very "hobbit" like in the colors and textures. I was wondering whether we were going to the Dungeons and Dragons reunion or dinner. He grabbed his cape and we left. Complete with his "man bag." 

We went to a Korean restaurant where he ordered a spicy entire fish which he scaled and ate to the bone. Food was amazing at the restaurant but the spice and the way he ate the fish was nauseating. He then started to rub my ears and told me he had a fascination for them. I said oh mine are small. He said not so much. I do not want to know why he was so delighted in this factoid- and I wasn't going to stick around. The conversation was very stilted at this point. We walked back to the hotel lobby and Hobbit invited me upstairs to listen to music. He took out his phone and tried to induce me with the very medieval guitar like strumming of music. I don't know what they played in the medieval ages- but if they had a guitar this would be it. Robin Hood would be strumming a little ukulele walking around the forest to his music. This was his mood setter. I said no thank you.

And then he leaned in for the kiss- I guess this was the cherry and spicy fish whip cream on top his request to accompany him to his room- he was going to seal the deal with this where the music failed. I struggled from vomiting in his mouth as I leaned back. I was amazed my back had the flexibility it did. Thereafter I walked around in the rain in the city for an hour and half because I forgot where I parked my car. It was all worth it though to not spend a night visiting the Middle Earth with JRR Tolkien. I think my passport was stamped.

And now Hobbit is frustrated I won't return his messages online. He doesn't remember me. But I bet he noticed my ears.

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