Dan

Dan

In the days following my trying legal encounter, my confidence in my marketability was soon to be shattered.  Via the website, I connected with a very handsome, athletic Psychiatrist from Nanaimo.  He initiated correspondence with this complimentary pronouncement – 

I found your bio to be entertaining and thoughtfully written.  The woman described in it is a good representation of the woman I am looking for.  

He continued to lay on the enticing words, referencing a Herman Melville quote I’d added to my profile:

I too, identify with Herman Melville with my love of exploration of all things remote.  I love his enticing phrase ‘sail forbidden seas’ coupled with ‘barbarous coasts’- writing could not get much better!  Still elusive is the one adventurous woman with which to share sunrises, beaches and velvet night skies. 

I would like to meet and take the time for respectful consideration and conversation.

Could you let me know your thoughts? Please don’t wait too long.

Dan 

As urged by his final sentence, without delay I click on his profile to scrutinize his pictures.  In the first, he’s smiling broadly up at the camera, the orange of his kayak in vivid contrast to the turquoise water surrounding him. He’s got neatly trimmed grey hair, sunglasses that could be the up-market brother of my own, and a beautiful set of even American-Style white teeth.  More on the teeth later, as will become clear, teeth play an incisive role in this narrative.  I make no apology for the inclusion of that word. 

The second picture is not unexpected, a brown long-haired dog lolling on the beach with a red ball in his mouth.  These canine images, appearing with infiltrating regularity, are no doubt intended to demonstrate capacity for love and caring for another living creature. I plead guilty myself.  Why else would Barkley have secured prime real estate on my profile page? 

Another shows him ski-dooing, suitably clad in stylish seasonal attire, against a backdrop of chill fog and snow. That kind of day would have seen me happily still in my jammies at 3 pm.  The final picture is of him posing on skis. The tasteful calibre of his ski-suit convinces me it’s probably a Whistler shot rather than Mount Washington shot. He’s in that iconic pose assumed by those confident in their Double-Black-Diamond run ability. He’s neatly vertical, with legs tidily parallel, elegant skis almost touching one another.  His torso is swivelled to face the camera and arms are sweeping outwards, poles stabbed casually into the soft snow around him.  It is with good reason there’s no such shot posted on my profile.  When skiing, I am in a state ranging between high tension and paralysing terror, and this would be evident.  My skis would form the pizza shape, (this was a survival skill I mastered early.  It prevents one from sliding forward when one doesn’t want to slide forward) my bum would be curving unflatteringly outwards and poles would definitely be playing a supporting role to stop me from tipping to one side.  Wiser not to mention my mismatched ski attire at this juncture.  Actually, it’s probably wiser not to introduce unsettling images of myself engaging in any sporting activities… I digress, back to Dan.  There’s plenty to enchant the eye in the visuals he’s provided. 

One short paragraph in his description of himself ensures that I will correspond.

You will find that I am caring, open and gentle.  My interests are varied – I love travel, writing, fresh salads, calligraphy, adventure.  I strive for a lifetime of growth.  I love the warm heavy fuzziness of a fresh summer peach in my hand, the dusty texture on my lips, the soft sweet juiciness of the first taste of it.  I love the sound of water gently lapping on pebbled beaches, the feel of a warm breeze, and the tension before a first kiss.

With girlish enthusiasm I respond with alacrity.  After all, here is a  Really Handsome Fish nibbling at my bait.

Hello Dan... what a lovely letter introducing yourself. You seem sensitive and considerate.  Your profile certainly does intrigue me, but I have a sneaking suspicion that you are more virtuous and disciplined in regards to your lifestyle and health than I am. My approach to nutrition can be chaotic and though I love the outdoors and being active, I would by no means call myself athletic or sporty. Consider yourself warned. Anne

And so we’re off…. For a few days there are pleasant exchanges between the two of us.  I fill him in on a bit of my story.  He discloses his line of work, a psychiatrist.  No doubt an ace hidden up his sleeve, ready to be produced with a flourish.  Possibly my measured and atypical response to this impressive news was my first disappointment to him.  

Ah Dan, I am quite comfortable with doctors. After all, I was married to one for the better part of 31 years, so rest assured, I am not suffering from societal status deficit.  I've already enjoyed ‘Doctor’s Wife’  title, so unlike other social climbing women, your occupation is not a vehicle by which I would measure my self worth. Anne

Anne- You are unique and make me laugh.  I would love to connect with you.  Dan

As Dan had a scheduled dental appointment one afternoon that week, and his dental office is a mere 25 minutes drive from Duncan, we agreed to meet afterwards.  Cell phone numbers were exchanged, with the arrangement that he would text me when he was released from the Ordeal of the Chair of Pain.  As things transpired, there was clearly something amiss with that fine, white regular set of teeth - an extraction was necessary.  An unpalatable text chirped onto my cell phone that afternoon:

Just had a tooth pulled.  Will not be at best advantage if swollen lipped and drooling blood upon meeting.  Rain check.  Talk later?

Oh. You’re so close.  (Ever practical, I like to save on the drive)  Let’s meet anyway. I never show to best advantage either!  Unless u r in horrible pain… but then u shouldn’t be driving yet anyway.  At least then u can assess if I am worth another visit.  A

I’d prefer to postpone. Am feeling battered and traumatized. Really sorry. Had no idea they’d yank it. D

Ok ((hugs)) Drive v carefully.  Drug yourself if in pain. A

After he’d arrived home, he sent this -   Lips are numb and tea tastes of blood.  Talk later?

Unbeknownst to me, who was fast asleep at the ungodly hour, he texted this command just before midnight-

WILL BE UP A WHILE LONGER YOU CAN CALL ME NOW

The following morning, after my eyes were assaulted by his summons shouting at me from my cell phone screen, I responded-

 Are you barking orders at me in the manner of a surgeon to a scrub nurse?  Or were you too bleary-eyed to notice that your caps lock was on? A

Neither my dog nor I bark. It was the latter.  D 

Mine does.  I have to continually remind him about his Inside Voice.  In fact, I have a sign on the back of the door to the garage that says, ‘We like Quiet Dogs.’  I read it aloud to him from time to time.   A

The following morning was when I probably made my fatal miss-step. Though looking back, quite possibly he’d been disconcerted by my non-athletic declarations, my eagerness to meet despite his dental trauma,  my ‘barking surgeon’ accusation and mad monologues to my dog.  Half asleep and headachy I sent the following email –

Good Morning, Dan. There I was coping grandly, but having woken with a blinding headache, I staggered half asleep to the bathroom,  and gulped down a sleeping pill that starts with a Z - Zopiclone (sounds like the arch nemesis from Space Invaders), mistaking it for my trusty T3, so may not make it through the Times Colonist let alone my cryptic. Jammie day. 

To this sparkling insight into the quality of my life, I received no response at all.  Before the following weekend, I sent him a text.

Hi- I just wanted to clarify weekend plans.  Any thoughts regarding connecting?  A 

His reply dashed my hopes in that regard.

Too many commitments, will be unable to meet. D

Not wanting to come across as desperate I responded,

No problem...it can wait till you have more time.  Let me know if you have a moment. 

Rudely, I felt, there was no reply to this, so a few days later I wrote-

Hi Dan.  I have a thought you may have decided against meeting? Could you let me know either way? Have a great week. Anne

Again, no answer.  I began to question the man’s manners. Unfamiliar as I am with internet etiquette, I felt surely it is only polite to respond?  Some days later, deciding that he should be alerted to his unchivalrous treatment in a subtle way, I concluded our exchanges with the following-

My apologies, Dan, if somehow I alarmed or offended you. I am totally inexperienced at all this.... it just seems strange to me that you are not responding given that we had a definite meeting set up which had to be cancelled owing to your extraction.

Then, kindly opening an exit door that he could easily avail himself of, and extricate himself with some degree of civility intact, I added-

 Perhaps you've met someone else, in which case, congrats!  Anne

No response.  Nothing…Ever….

But here’s the interesting twist.  A month or so later, when I was accessing a free messaging app on my cell phone, there he was, in my ‘contacts’!   I’m presuming this was because we’d texted and my clever phone transferred his submitted information to the app.  Included in his listing was a different photograph.  Gone was the handsome, active Adonis with beautiful teeth and stylish sunglasses.  I stared in horror at a scary glowering old man.  He was mousy-haired and grim mouthed, sporting a dense and scrubbing-brushy goatee and matching bristling whiskered eyebrows.  Was this a psychiatrist who never intended to meet, but just wanted to play mind games with me?  Was he even a psychiatrist?  Did he even go near a dentist?  

I have just re-examined this image, and it brings a shudder of unease.  Could it be that he's doing time and is using the internet dating as a welcome distraction?   Oh happy reprieve!