Princess MoMo

Phase I (Cyberspace Introduction):

Tuesday, Sep 7, 2011 – 10:32pm

Guy: Wow – I meet the prerequisites a through i !! You look stunning in your pics, and seem confident and focused. I would like the opportunity to meet and learn more – perhaps a dining adventure. You won’t be disappointed!! 215 REDACTED

Wednesday, Sep 8, 2011 – 4:32am

Princess MoMo: Hi- Upon review of your profile, you do appear to meet my criteria! And, you’re a libra, which is a nice added bonus. :-) I’m not sure where Pipersville is, though, but that’s easy enough to figure out. My digits are 908 REDACTED

(Surprise 1: He met my criteria on paper.  However, his sole picture posted on his profile was taken from a distance, therefore leaving a lot to the imagination, which is generally not good on these dating sites.)

Phase II (Telephonic Exchanges):

He called on Thursday around 3 p.m.   Because I was at work, I did not take the call.  (Surprise 2: Mid-workday phone call.)  A couple of hours later, I listened to the voicemail, in which he informed me that he was about to go kayaking and was wondering if I wanted to dine with him that night.   (Surprise 3: Dining request before ever speaking to me.)  I returned his call on my exceptionally leisurely scenic commute home, due to road flooding.  We talked for over an hour.  He claimed that he had just joined the dating site and that I was the first female specimen to whom he had written.  He asked what I was doing that night.  I told him I was meeting with a college friend who was in town.  We decided to meet the following day.

He called me later that night and began speaking of an adventure.  I quickly got the feeling that I was in for a ride; I just didn’t know what kind.  He instructed me to pack a bag.  I responded that I was only willing to commit to 24 hours in terms of a first date.  However, I packed three outfits just in case I ended up being amused by this character and his adventure.

On the drive to work, I informed a friend that I would be traveling to a location undisclosed to me with a person unfamiliar to me in a mode of transportation unknown to me.  I told him that if he didn’t hear from me by Monday, that I was likely chopped up into itty-bitty MoMo tasty fish food pieces.  My friend told me to text him this guy’s number as a safety precaution.

Around 11:30 a.m., I texted the specimen with an approximate estimate of the time I could depart from the office.  He directed me to meet him at Princeton airport.  At that point, it became obvious that the transporting vehicle was some sort of flying machine.   It began to set in even more that this date prospect was a bit risky.  I had only conversed with this guy on one day in all of life and I couldn’t even pick him out of a crowd thanks to the detail-lacking picture he posted on his dating profile.  Accordingly, I informed some of my coworkers about my imminent escapade.

Phase III (The In-Person Encounter):

On the way to the airport, my level of apprehension grew.  I called another friend.  He said, “Don’t do it.  He’s going to chop you up.”  I laughed and said that I had the same exact sentiment about being chopped up.  I also wondered if this was some sort of Punk’d stunt, orchestrated by a disgruntled specimen.  But I concluded, “No risk, no reward.”

I called the specimen when I arrived at the Princeton airport.  He said he was almost there, but that he needed to get fuel.  This tipped me off that he was apparently the operator of the aircraft that would be delivering us to the location still unrevealed to me.  (Surprise 4: This guy was piloting us to a first date.)   I sat in the MoMo-mobile awaiting him.  It was hot as balls temperature-wise.  I noticed that the little “anti-freeze needs to be filled” light was lit up on the dash board.  Fortunately, I have a container of this fluid and a funnel in the trunk of my automobile.  Unfortunately, I don’t trust myself to function under the hood of a car.  I called him and told him of my ordeal in hopes that he is a male of the handy variety.  (Side note: So many white collar men lack handiness these days.  Undesirable.  Women like men who are capable of fixing things. )

His first view of me was of my MoMo behind because, of course, he approached my vehicle as I was bending over in the trunk digging out the funnel and fluid.  My first impression: Tall and fit, but I couldn’t quite make out the details of his face because of his sunglasses.  (Side note: He wasn’t wearing aviators.  He should have been.  Aviators make people look cool.)  Anyway, he said that the crap under the hood was hot and therefore, the the fluid could be compressed and could explode if the container is uncapped.  He told me he would fill it upon our return.

I followed him to our mode of transportation: a single engine aircraft, of which he is the owner and operator.   This seemed a bit ridiculous for a first date, but ridiculous is right up my alley.  For roughly the first 45 minutes, I was a bit uneasy.  I still wasn’t sure if I was going to live to blog about this experience.  (If you haven’t figured it out yet, he didn’t kill me.)  Like him, my face was shielded by sunglasses.  He asked to see my eyes.  In return, I asked to see his.  I didn’t think he looked like a serial killer, but then again, to my knowledge, I’ve never been introduced to a serial killer before.  In the meantime, I photographed the plane dashboard (below).  He said, “You’re not going to blog about this, are you?”  I replied, “Are you kidding me? I most certainly am.  I blog about far more mundane dates.   This is definitely going up there.”

I still didn’t know where we were headed.  About an hour and a half into flight, I was informed of the destination: Martha’s Vineyard.

We landed. I was relieved to be alive!  But there was still a chance that he was going to chop me up into mini MoMo pieces.

When I powered on my device, I had several texts from my super awesome friends checking in on whether I was still intact.  One of the my wonderful friends continued texting me after I responded to her.  She later explained that I misspelled a word in my initial response and did not follow it up with my standard grammar nazi correction.  That made her suspicious that it wasn’t me responding.  So, she followed up with texts related to matters about which only I would know.  (Side note: I have fantastic friends. <3.)

We boarded a bus to Edgartown.  We then stopped at a place on the water,  where he had some clam chowder and I had some Goose.  We then walked to the house of one of his friends.  He conversed with this pleasant woman for some time and then we walked to another house, where we stayed.  Around 9 p.m., we went to dinner at this fabulous little Italian place.  I consumed a couple of chocolate martinis and an expresso martini, along with some delicious pasta there.   He ordered a tequila drink, which was gross.   It was at the time that we learned that drink choices should be left up to me.   Conversation at dinner was great.  I felt extremely comfortable and open with him.  After dinner, we walked back to the house.

Naturally, I packed the sexiest of night attire for this excursion.  I changed into this irresistible garment (depicted below – and don’t even try to deny that you are jealous of the zebra onesie).  We went to sleep around 4 a.m.  A little after 6 a.m., I was awake and ready to start the day.  He had been pre-warned of my minimalist sleep habits.  He required a bit more sleep.  But to my satisfaction, not much.  A bit after 9 a.m., he was ready to rock ‘n roll.   He grew more attractive to me on Saturday than he was on Friday (and that’s not to say I wasn’t attracted to him on Friday).  It may have been because I was slightly more confident that he wasn’t going to kill me.  I consented to extending the stay beyond 24 hours.  The Saturday plan was to grab some grub and then hit the beach.   As he sorted through his bag, he realized he had forgotten to pack a swim suit.  He walked over to his friend’s house on a quest for a substitute suit.  His only option brought me endless amusement.  It was a Lily Pulitzer super gay pink and neon green jungle patterned suit.  He said, “I’m going to wear this, but you have to make me one promise…” I interjected, “…that I won’t take any pictures?”  He said, “Exactly.”  He was asking for a lot.  This suit was incredible.  I would be remiss not to share it with you all.  He eventually came to see my point of view and compromised.  He allowed for one picture, which he captured.  See below.

Along with the swim trunks, there was something else very gay in Martha’s Vineyard: me!  Somehow, this specimen effortlessly dismantled my defense mechanisms and converted me into a soft, sweet, affectionate individual.  I was suffering from an identity crisis.  Who was I being?  I attributed it to being taken out of my New Jersey element.  Somehow, it took a little bit of the New Jersey out of me.  Notably, unlike most specimens, he was not at all intimidated by me.   He maintained a dominant, masculine role (despite the pink bathing suit).

The vehicle surprises hadn’t ended with the plane.  To transport us to the beach, he drove his friend’s VW Thing.  The Thing looks like a mini tank, with a convertible top and windshield! The resident soundtrack was an island reggae CD, including tracks such as “I Shot the Sheriff.”

After the beach, we ate again and then napped from roughly 7-10:30 p.m.  Bars and restaurants shut down relatively early at Martha’s Vineyard, so we ended up staying in.

Sunday morning wake up time (7:15 a.m.) was a bit less torturous than Saturday’s.   We chatted, cleaned up the house and packed our belongings.  He said, “Are you sure you can’t call out of work for a few days?”  As tempting as it was, I declined the offer.  We ate breakfast and then boarded the aircraft once again.  He was even cuter to me on Sunday than on Saturday.  Again, probably because I had lived to see the light of another day.  Looking at him made me smile.  There was a lot of affectionate gayness going on.  About half way into the flight, confusion set in.  Who was this guy? Who was I? What was going on?  This seemed like fiction.  I said to him, “I may not want to see you again.”  He asked, “Why?”  I explained, “Because I don’t know how you’re going to top this, so we may as well quit while we’re ahead.”  He laughed and said, “You have no idea…”

When we landed, he walked me to the MoMo-mobile and filled the anti-freeze fluid. I looked out at the road and said, “I hope these fucking roads aren’t still closed.”  He said, “Wow, you’ve only been back in New Jersey for 5 minutes and you’re already dropping f-bombs again.”  I replied, “It doesn’t take much.”  We parted.

Thankfully, there was only one road closure on my drive home.  When I arrived, I noticed a priority mail envelop addressed to me on the counter.  I opened it to find my renewed passport, which I had applied for only two weeks prior.  Omen? I texted the specimen, “My renewed passport arrived.  Let me know if you want to leave the country. :)”  Shortly thereafter, he dial pad-ded me.  He said, “I like where your head’s at.”  We expressed that we both had a great time together.  And he stated, “Give me a call sometime. ”  I responded, “No, it doesn’t work like that.  You’re supposed to call me.”  He replied, “I just did.”  I said, “Well, then do it again.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

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