As many of you know, B and I met on an internet dating site. Being the soft, sentimental person that I am, I’ve sometimes regretted not saving the messages that we initially exchanged. Recently I contacted the site and they have been good enough to furnish me with a copy.
Tomorrow is the third anniversary of the day I first contacted B. I sent him a message because, according to the site’s matching algorithm, we were 88% compatible.
Aug 23, 2010
I’m an 88% match – does that quality for a message? I’m sending one anyway, obviously. Also I’m bored. Hope you had a good Monday which didn’t leave you slightly damp with fluffy hair – as it left me.
88% is a pretty good match and I’m feeling generous, so I’ll round to the nearest 10%. I’d like to see myself as a rather conciliatory and diplomatic person and I believe I would even get along with people who are only say 80% match. Besides I think this matching algorithm based on random answers to mostly odd questions is utter rubbish.
Boredom of course excuses nearly anything, and I am glad to help if by being messaged I relieved only 30 seconds of your boredom.
No complaints about my Monday so far, I seem to have managed to plan my trips to and from the office and to the sandwich shop around the rain showers. In fact, spending my days in a windowless open plan office, detached from space, time and weather, I wasn’t even aware it has been raining!
As you can see from my fairly unfinished profile I haven’t been bored enough recently. But I’ve had a look at your profile. I do occasionally wear bold pinstripe suits, but I never make any phone calls on the train or discuss strategic fits. I’m actually mostly harmless (that makes me sound very dull).
I’m not a native English speaker but I’m trying my best to get my spelling and grammar right. So if you’re bored again or think there’s something we could have an interesting discussion about, please feel free to send me another message.
Have a great Tuesday. It’s not going to rain.
We were talking about the weather from the word go – how very English!
We only exchanged 10 or so further messages on the site before we met. There are some highlights below.
Although this is an abridged version, rest assured that it was all perfectly chaste. These were the days before sexting photographs of your genitals became de rigueur, or I’m sure we would have had cameras out, trousers down. Preferably with a beverage at hand.
Me: I take it you’re German? Your English is far better than most people born here.
B: I am indeed German. I’ve been living in London for almost five years now and grunting and gesticulating is not a long-term solution, so there was no way around communicating in proper English.
Me: What job do you do, that you’re finding low on inspiration these days?
B: I’m a trader, but more the number crunching kind than the shouting and swearing kind. I used to enjoy it, but after having done a full cycle, the boom and the bust, I’m getting more and more deja vu moments and less excitement of doing and learning something new.
Me: Traders are popular with the ladies, aren’t they? You should be fighting them off with a stick.
B: As a trader I am of course immensely popular with the ladies. Sometimes, when fighting them off with a stick isn’t enough, I have to jump into the Ferrari parked on the drive of my Chelsea townhouse and drive to my yacht, where I snort cocaine from the bare bosom of an Eastern European supermodel.
Me: Hope you’ve had a relaxing day. I’m at Shepherds Bush, just saw a film and now in a pub with glass of wine. Gotta love a Bank Holiday. I thought about asking you out for a drink tonight, but it occurred to me way too late of course. You’re probably busy, or sleeping. Anyway I will email properly later. In case you are around I’m on xxxxx xxxxxx. Nothing ventured nothing gained eh?
B sent me a text and we did indeed meet that evening. The rest, as they say, is history!