did i st-st-stutter?

online dating is seeing an overwhelming growth in popularity these days. i wish i could say i haven't participated, but unfortunately, it’s the territory when dealing with an overbearing jewish mother and grandmother. the thought that their worst nightmare (me not finding a nice Jewish husband to make nice Jewish babies) might become a reality, just adds fuel to their crazy-fire.

if my aforementioned jewish mother hadn’t offered to pay for the service, you can bet your bottom dollar i would not have agreed to partake. but, given my tendencies to revert back to my college ways, i wasn’t going to oppose the opportunity to get something for free.

and thus began my experience with jdate.

i still to this day don’t understand why any of the following would think I’d have been remotely interested in them:

• over 40
• gorilla-like hair from head-to-toe
• too short to ride a roller coaster at disneyland
• bald
• morbidly obese

and, yet, without fail, men with these unfortunate attributes continued to reach out. time and time again.

however, in spite of that, i will admit my jdate experience wasn’t as unbearable as i had originally anticipated (although i’d never confess that to my mother). of the few who had emailed me that i actually agreed to go out with, i suppose i didn't have the worst time. 

that is, until i met the stutterer...er. 

i wish someone had shared some online dating best practices with me prior to my experience because had that been the case, i'd have avoided this dreadful situation completely. my first mistake: not implementing a mandatory phone screening prior to accepting the date. the second: actually thinking this guy could be potentially normal.

his profile had me fooled. trickery, i tell you. on paper (er, screen) he fit all my criteria: 29 years old, 6'2, career driven, owns property in SF (aka dolla dolla bills, y'all), attractive, trendy, witty. he even dropped a sandlot reference in one of his messages (talk about the things that matter most). so, i have to say, i wasn't dreading this date as i had so much so the others in the past. dare i say i was even slightly... looking forward to it. i even put on my big gal shoes, ready to strut my stuff. 

and then he arrived. i was pleasantly surprised to learn his profile photos didn't even do him justice. "what a strapping young lad," i thought to myself as he approached me.

but just as quickly as my hopes had bubbled up, he opened his mouth. and they came crashing down around me.

this wasn't just your run-of-the-mill, every-day stutter. this was a complete debilitation of any form of communication. tens of seconds would go by in which he was trying to form a cohesive thought, and all that was left was silence and struggle. 

"WHY IS THIS HAPPENING TO ME?!" i cursed every form of higher being in my head, as i politely smiled and waited for him to spit out whatever god-forsaken thing it was he was trying to say. while at the same time, pinching myself underneath the table in order to maintain my cool.

in an attempt to overcome my superficiality (see, mom, i can give someone a chance), i agreed to a "quick" dinner following our drinks. the thing is, there really is no such thing as a "quick" dinner when you're dining with an individual with as bad a speech impediment as this one. i believe cher said it best: if i could turn back time, i would have given in to my shallowness (my better half) and gotten the fuck out of dodge.

needless to say, dinner was excruciatingly painful, at best. 

e-e-e-e-e-every. 

s-s-s-s-s-s-s-ingle. 

s-s-s-s-s-s-sentence. 

a-a-a-a-a-a. 

h-h-h-h-h-hurdle. 

the date ended with a simple hug goodbye, and the entire district of north beach witnessing a blond gal in heels run for dear life.

...but don't feel too bad for me. i did walk away with a half bottle of wine that we were unable to finish at dinner. and for that, the tally is: michelle 1. jdate 0.