Good Looking Is A Relative Term
I was doing some dating from the personals in the city's free weekly paper. This was a few years ago, before online dating became so big. I was learning to focus more on adjectives that described a personality rather than targeting, "Handsome, well-built, sexy guy," surface level descriptions. I responded to an ad where the guy described himself as, "Funny, kind, generous," etc, and good looking was in there too, so I felt reasonably sure I was on the right track. We spoke on the phone a few times and the rapport was instant and natural. He seemed quite different from some of the more misogynistic men I'd tended towards, and I felt I was making some progress in my choices. We agreed to meet for lunch, and when the day came, I was excited with anticipation. There were three men in the lunch/bar area when I entered. Two of them were sitting together - obviously neither was the man I was meeting. The third I simply dismissed as there for some other purpose. As I watched several other men come into the restaurant and by their actions, identify that they were not the one for whom I was waiting, I wondered how late this guy was going to be, especially as it seemed out of character for how he seemed - courteous, thoughtful, etc. After about ten minutes, the gentleman who I'd originally dismissed came over to me and asked if my name was Wendy? I wonder if I paled as visibly as it felt I did - he smiled and said, "Do I look like you thought I would?" And I suddenly and horrifically realized in my emphasis to focus on non-surface level characteristics, I'd completely neglected to check his stats. I thought randomly and wildly that he sure was good looking - to his mother! I am very tall, slim, lift weights, and eat healthily and this guy was easily 300 pounds! Plus, it looked like he'd had a bowl on his head when he'd gotten his haircut. We obviously had different health philosophies, not to mention I found him very visually unattractive - it SO didn't work! I knew I could be gracious and get through lunch, but I had to first excuse myself to go gather my head together in the ladies room. For lunch he had a Pinacolada with ice cream in it and fried chicken drenched in gravy. The entire duration of lunch was a challenge in staying present, because my head had an entirely different dialogue going on than what was coming out of my mouth. In those days, I wasn't quite up to politely saying I didn't feel any chemistry, so I lied about seeing him again and then dodged his phone calls until he gave up.
— Wendy, 37