Spinning

Was listening to a woman lamenting the dating pond, I nodded in all the right places. Big deal, the pond's been full of paunchy, over-sized egotistical fish for a while.

However, I have a penchant for enjoying other folks misery who sidle up to the pond and dip their toes in, and totally rate all those who dive in without goggles.

The woman's body was as hard as her finely tuned nails. A well-shaped ironing board if you like - in fact, her forehead looked like it might have had a bit of heat on it. She decried the lack of honesty, the tall cyber profile miniaturising upon arrival in real time. Creativity should of course be applauded.

Anyway, it led me to a little meander down Cyber Dating Lane.

Profile ... doesn't look like a cat murderer. Bit follicularly challenged, so aren't we all!  Righty ho ... Click ... Click ... and so it began.  

Swapping witty cyber missives, the coupling sounded promising. We had so much in common:

1. we could both type
2. we could both spell
3. we could both spell (this is very important!). 

A match made in cyber-heaven!

Then the phone chat in real time.

Conversation flowed, and little bits of lives (or those of fabrication) learnt.

The conversation veered to the gym.

I noted I had gone to the gym, in fact the sticker is still on my car. The sticker has proved to have a great deal more exercise than I ever had.

He noted that he enjoyed spin classes.

Spin? The only spinning I did was after a couple of glasses of wine on an empty stomach.

The conversation spun out of control, spin this, spin that. Hello? Are you mad? Who wants to be surrounded by pert sweaty bottoms? Ummm ... don't answer that.

A pause.

I needed to interject something slim-full and gym-full.

"Well," I said. "Perhaps I should mention ..."

An anticipatory pause. 

"I'm more Moby Vick than Nemo."

And that was the end of that cyber coupling.

Time for a hot chocolate. And might peel off sticker, I'm obviously not a promising marketer and that might be seen as false advertising.