DR. JONES!!!!!

Back in the Middle Ages, Matchmakers were employed to find....matches. With the advent of the Internet, finding your perfect match is...guaranteed!
Eharmony asks you a hundred questions and matches you with your ideal mate, who, according to them:

• lived in Alaska (3-month long night=good. 3-month long commute to work=bad)
  
• was thin as a rail (which makes me look even fatter, thank you)

Match-dot-com promised to find my "soul mate" within 6 months. They didn't, so I got 6 months free. The results? My "soul mate"

• was 28, lived at home, smoked, and worked fast food. ::sigh:: There will be a story about him - LATER. I promise......
  

After a few more dips into the online dating pool, I quit swimming. I ignored the flirts and such sent from the various sites. Until I received a message from....Indiana Jones.
Okay, okay, it wasn't from Harrison Ford -- but he was an archaeologist.

And there is just something about a man and his shovel....
::sigh::

yup - you betcha -- I went to the store. And after I saw his picture -- I fricking moved to the Costco parking lot!

Of course, I was sure the picture he sent was a lie - why would someone like THIS want to date me? More than likely, Dr. Jones was some lonely bald, toothless, pot-bellied mountain man from the hills of Deliverance.....

"It's not that I don't believe it's you in the pictures - it's just that I
...well, I don't believe it's you. I mean, come on! You're gorg- -huh? You're sending a video clip?"

So the video arrived -- not "that" kind of video.
darn! drat!

-No, just a video tour of the University....and his office.....culminating with a shot of him, saying his name, calling me by my name....
so that I knew it was the same "him" from the pictures, and that "he" knew that he was talking to "me"....sorta electronic proof, right?

So, I responded as quickly as my fingers could type:

"Dr. Jones. Thank you for the lovely tour of your office at the University. I now believe that it is really you that I am conversing with. However, I feel I must inform you that even though I am a single, middle-aged/overweight woman, I am neither desperate or stupid. If you're intentions involve a green card or my bank account-
-what? You're not interested in either? What? You think I'm sexy, talented, beautiful and funny? Would you mind pulling my hair while you say that?"

With English being his second language, explaining the phrase "Pulling my hair" took as much explaining as my "going to the store" analogy....but after a few....keystrokes.....he.....got the picture.
Oh....Dr. Jones! You're a bad man, Dr. Jones (but in a good way!)

Oh, I forgot that part, didn't I? I forgot to tell you where this absolutely perfect man lives, yes? In the typical APj tradition of being attracted to unavailable men, Dr. Jones is unavailable - "geographically" ....unavailable. Dr. Jones....resides in......Turkey.