Dave Smith would like to be your friend on Facebook®

When it comes to Facebook®, I’ve found that there are two types of male friend requests:

The First – the innocuous Facebook® Friendship:

Him:    “Hey Phoren, haven’t seen you in ages.  How are you doin’ these days.”

Me:      “Dave, great to hear from you.  I’m fantastic – went to culinary school recently, still living in XX and working at XX.  How about you?  What’s up in your world?”

Him:    No reply or a pat one-line response about living, working, marriage and children.

This is the end of our conversation. We are now “Facebook® Friends.”

The Second – the “I want to get in your panties again” Facebook® Friendship:

The conversation begins the same, but instead of fizzling out after one or two exchanges, he keeps the momentum going.    In fact, if I don’t respond, he’ll email again.  He doesn’t post on my wall;  he sends private messages.  He’ll remind me of the fun we had in the past, finding out the details of my life, discovering if I’m single or in a relationship until the point when he can “casually” ask me out.

I’ve had a few of these.  I’m experiencing one of these right now.

At the end of my (red) string

Chinese Proverb:

An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstances. The thread may stretch or tangle but will never break.

 

This morning, while I was in the shower, which is where I do my best thinking, my mind wandered over to contemplations of the red thread theory – the Asian legend that the gods tie an invisible red string around the pinky (or ankles) of those that are destined to meet each.

Such a beautiful concept and imagery – two bodies, gently bound by a red thread, knotted and tangled as they weave their way through the world.

Last week, within a matter of days, I received three confessions from men who admitted to some form of attraction towards me.  The first, who is unavailable, has discovered some unresolved sentimentalities from a long-crumbled relationship. The second man, a customer of mine, admitted that he’s been attracted to me since 2008 and just now got the courage to tell me so.  Attracted to me physically, mind you; he knows nothing of me as a person.  The third, a co-worker going through a divorce (and substantially lubricated), admitted that he’s desired me since the very beginning – nine years ago.  I like and respect this man, though we have nothing in common, and am not entirely opposed to what he was suggesting.  However, by morning and with a clearer head, he could only sheepishly look me in the eye as he remembered what he professed the hazy night before.

Last week, they were coming out of the woodwork.  It’s not a dearth of men that fetters my romance, it’s my challenge of finding the man at the end of my string.