Match.con is not a typo

I thought I'd found the man of my dreams. He really did turn out to be the man of my dreams, except it was a nightmare. How cliched is that?! It's been a month and I'm still stinging.

Here's how it works: you get a list of 5 men every day who "match" your profile. You look at their profiles and if you're interested you can "wink" - a harmless way of letting someone know you're interested. They look at your profile and wink back or send an email, or ignore you completely which is what over 100 men have done. (My self-esteem is still thankfully intact, but it's getting harder and harder to understand what the hell is wrong with me.) Or you can email right away, which I've done dozens of times. A few kind souls have emailed back with a nice note saying no thanks, good luck; and a few men have clicked on "no thanks" which sends an auto email telling you to keep looking.

I told you about my date with Farmer Joe. Nice guy, nothing there. I ran into him at the Dutchess County Fair (on purpose) and confirmed my initial assessment. Fairly certain he's not my type, even while I'm still trying to figure out what my type IS after all these years. I've exchanged a couple of emails with Arlen Roth - the famous guitar player/teacher (look up Hot Licks). He's spent the summer in Martha's Vineyard and is expected home this week. Maybe we'll get together? That's it. Two responses. Until Simon Bradley came along.

Ah, Simon. "Who would have guessed," said my friend Lynda. "An Engineer with the soul of a poet." Half German, half Brit - love that European sensibility I read in his emails. Said so many things that made me smile, laugh, giggle - gave me butterflies in my stomach. Seemed to be able to see right into my soul - shared all my deepest values. Widower - wife died of ovarian cancer. His friend Nelson met his wife on match.com and that's what inspired him to try it. Debbie is such a wonderful gal. She's from the States. Can't wait to meet her.

Owns a home in West London (that's where his Mom lives - she's the Brit part), but hasn't settled down here yet. Said he lived in LaGrangeville but was waiting to buy a home until he met someone he was serious about. You might remember LaGrangeville from the vinegar festival I went to back in June or July - about 20 miles away from Rhinebeck, not too bad. We couldn't meet for coffee just yet, since he was out of the country on business. He's on assignment on an oil rig - he'd be home in a month. Great, I thought. Give us time to get to know each other before we actually meet.

I copied my favorite Rilke poem for him in German, since I thought he might like to read it in his native tongue. He loved it. I shared my favorite Gibran poem On Love. He loved that too. When I wondered aloud how on earth we could have ever found each other among the thousands and thousands of people on match, he said "Finding you was by chance, writing to you was by choice, but falling for you is out of my control." Damn, he's good.

When I was in Detroit in July, friends Lynda and Lisa and I spent a lovely day together talking about our current circumstances and our dreams for the future. The three of us created "vision boards" of our intentions. Lynda to sell her home, me to find the right partner, and Lisa to find her role and voice and navigate the waters of her father's illness and impending death. Our love for each other and the space we provide to each other to express our deepest thoughts and feelings is the most wonderful gift in the world. When Simon showed up, I felt like it was in direct response to my vision board and my intentions(to awaken joy), supported by Lynda and Lisa and Ann (who wasn't there physically, but in spirit). I told them "look what you brought me" and sent a picture of this handsome guy with a winning smile and an earring in his ear lobe that made me smile whenever I looked at it, which I did pretty frequently.

I was beginning to stress about whether or not or how to tell him about the cancer. After all, he lost his wife to cancer. Would that matter to him? I'm supposed to be cancer free, but you never know. When to tell, how to tell. I was fretting over this one.

When Jacki called from her travels out west, I told her "I think I've met my Terry." Terry is Jacki's husband; they met on match.com 5 years ago. He adores her and she adores him and they're one of the happiest couples I know. When Kelly and her husband John came to visit I told them about Simon. Being the practical type, they wondered if I'd checked him out yet. Had I Googled him? (Did you know Google was a verb?) Well, no, I hadn't yet. But I certainly would - good idea - not sure why I hadn't done that yet. I'll do that Sunday afternoon when I have lots of time.

Sunday morning brought a note from Simon saying he'd be home in two weeks and wondered if I'd like to pick him up at the airport. The note said maybe it's time to take this to the next level and have a phone chat. "Here's my phone number (international of course) give me a call." Well, I thought, guess I'd better Google him before I start thinking about calling or picking him up at the airport. (Although I did spend time imagining what that first meeting would be like. Would we hug, kiss, just stare at each other? Maybe it's time for new undies. LOL)

Pulled up Google and typed in Simon Bradley. Brought up thousands of Simon Bradleys all over the world, but nothing that resembled my Simon. So I typed in Simon Bradley Engineer. Up popped a link for simbrad53@yahoo.com (his email address) on a romance scam site. Did you know there was such a thing? Actually there are several such sites, where people report scammers. Well, there was my Simon, picture and all. Oh, and those lovely emails he wrote me? There they were, almost word for word, posted by several other women who had received them too. My heart sunk right to my stomach. I felt awful, violated, sick, angry, sad, horrible.... Thank God for friends. Both Jacki and Kelly called me on Sunday afternoon and gave me a chance to talk and cry and wonder what on earth would compel someone to do what he did (if it even was a "he").

Turns out it's money, of course. Apparently, these people get you to fall for them and then, while they're on their way to see you, something happens, an accident, something, and they need - you guessed it - money. Please wire money to this account. Well, it didn't get that far, obviously. I didn't give my phone number or any other personal information, but what if....

I went out and rented myself two movies, which I never do, and made a very large bowl of popcorn. I made myself two very stiff scotches and watched my movies and ate my popcorn. Anything to get me through the rest of the day. I cried myself to sleep. It felt like someone I loved had died, for heaven's sake. It took me days and days to get over this - still not sure I'm completely there.

So what have I learned here? Because of course if I don't learn something this would be a really big waste of a life experience, right? :-)

--Maybe match.com is the problem. But what about Jacki, and others I've heard of? Maybe eHarmony? Hope springs eternal?
--If someone falls for me, it must be a scam. No, that can't be right.
--I need to check people out sooner. Why did I wait so long this time? Deep down, did I think this couldn't be real, so I didn't check?
--I did like the way I felt when I thought it was real. I'm capable of having those feelings that I'd thought might be long gone.
--I enjoy watching movies at home and don't need to wait until I'm in a mood. Redbox rents them out for $1 and they're in my grocery store one mile away.
--I don't need to wait to meet someone before I buy new undies.

I told Dave's wife that I felt like I'd lost a little of my innocence. She said that's lovely - that I even had any innocence left to lose! LOL I'm glad I'm not a cynic, although I have a much higher filter now when I read profiles. A lot of what I read sounds like a lie. I hope I get over that soon. I think that deep down, people are really good at heart. (Thank you, Anne Frank) Although Simon Bradley, or whoever he is, can take a flying leap.

Onward and upward,
Genz