Never trust a man in a bowtie. He’s always up to something.
One of my mother’s many quirky proverbs popped into my head like a genie released from a bottle. True or not, the bowtie in his thumbnail-sized bio picture grabbed my attention first. The crooked glasses and cheap suit came in a close second, enhanced even more by an antediluvian printer running low on red ink. I didn’t even register the guy’s face other than his skin was amphibian green.
I jotted down my notes under the section entitled “First Impressions—Thumbnail Photo” and moved on to Griffin Spalding’s bio:
I am a number-cruncher for a used car dealership.
A groan accompanied my head drop. Why had no one already fixed this? I mean really. Were there any two other professions to catapult a woman into zzzz-land than accounting and used car sales? How old was this guy? I flipped the page back to his summary stats: Griffin Spalding, age 35, never married, 5’11”, 165 pounds, black-brown hair, greenish-brown eyes, average-sized Adam’s apple, large hands and feet, hairy chest, clean-shaven face.
What on earth…
“Who allowed you to run with those stats, Griffin?” I crossed off the references to his protrusions and phalanges, changed his eye color to hazel and his marital status to single. The hairy / hairless mentions received double strike-throughs. A vision formed in my head of Mr. Spalding on a date:
“Hey baby,” Griffin said, flashing a massive hairy paw adorned with a gawdy pinky ring. “ He winked and adjusted his bowtie before hitching his clown foot up onto the corner of the table. At that angle he presented a potpourri of eye level bulges, frayed seams, and a thin dress shirt barely veiling the pelt of dark chest hair beneath.
I shuddered. “No. No. No.”
I’m right where I want to be word-wise at a little over 11,000 words. More from this story in the weeks ahead!!
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