Finished with Chicago. Two days and I never left the airport. They actually attached the Hotel to the airport. Yeah, my life is filled, no, chock-filled with excitement. A full day of sales training and professional networking and skin-crawling, eye-twitching, and quite probably cancerous boredom. I couldn’t even entertain myself by imaging anyone naked as everyone in the place was a middle-aged white guy, all of whom the kind of people who consider a good steak and a day on the golf course to be the pinnacle of self-actualization.

Let’s just say there were a lot of cell phones on a lot of (large) belts.

Sigh.

I was reduced to requesting dirty text messages from most of the single and some of the not so single women in my rolodex, and I’m pretty disappointed none of you stepped up to keep me entertained. Where is Tassy when I need her most?

So two days in Chicago and now I’m in back in first class (after way too many cross-country trips in coach) en route to Las Vegas for a quick business lunch with a potential client. I was planning on heading straight home, but there has been a girl from Match that I’ve been wanting to meet for a long, long time now. And with my schedule I’ve been having a helluva time making the trip. Seems I’ve been everywhere but Vegas. Some creativity with my travel agent, a quick call to my customer, and I’ve got myself a date. On an expense account even. Now if I can just find a way to write off what I’m destined to lose at the blackjack table and I just might keep this job.

So anyway, I’m giving this digital dating yet another go. I didn’t have too much success with the last round. Sure I had a number of first dates, not so many second dates, and very, very few thirds. Maybe I should be more up front that I’m such an opinionated, arrogant, asshole, right Glovia?

Sorry. Couldn’t resist.

I’ve got profiles up at quite a few of these sites now. Most of them I think are pretty much a waste of time as they are a bitch to use, filled with advertisements for cam whores, thinly masked promotions for bars or bands or adult sites, or the majority of the people who use them are unemployed 21 year old kids with skull tattoos and nose rings who wonder why they can’t find a good job.

I have been back on Match for a while, and, admittedly, the quality of the profiles seems significantly higher. Then again, that should be expected on a site you have to pay to use. Unemployed 21 year old kids with skull tattoos and nose rings who wonder why they can’t find a job generally aren’t willing to move money from their marijuana budget just to get some cyber booty that they can usually find for free somewhere else.

As I mentioned, however, despite the better profiles, I have failed to find better results. Ironically, my Yahoo profile, which I never use, has at least gotten me laid. Twice even. Now I just keep it active to see who will come calling next. So to speak. Before you get all twitchy with me, I don’t have a swingers profile up or anything, and these women didn’t just send me a email with the header “hey, wanna fuck?” Besides, I’m so not that kind of boy.

Ok, maybe I am, but at least let me keep this last little shred of dignity. I’ve already given up the rest of it on this blog.

I digress. So I’ve been using Match again, and as I mentioned, my success has been limited. And lately I’m getting flat out ignored. Maybe my site has become stale. Maybe my shtick has become transparent. Maybe I need a new pitch. Maybe I need to post some beefcake. Who knows what these women are looking for, although as most of the searches are being made for women in OC and LA, I’m betting the answer to that question is found in my wallet.

God, when did I become so jaded?

I gotta get out of here, or maybe go gay. At least men are up front with the fact that they really just want to fuck you.

Regardless, I like my profile text. And as it was inspired by the illustrious Sarah Brown , it can’t be all that bad.

"I'm a globe-trotting, rock climbing, vegetable-eating, beach-dwelling, reluctant yuppie in Orange County. I dig DMB and U2, Bouguereau and Rothco, Eggers and Kingsolver, NYC and Vancouver BC. I like full contact bowling, competitive yoga, vegan taxidermy and people with a good sense of humor. I am practiced in the art of back rubs and foot massages. I can fasten and unfasten bracelets with remarkable dexterity. I have defeated my addiction to the remote control. I have learned that the seat can go down and always remember to put it up first. Moms like me. I have spectacular taste in shoes and lingerie and know how to remember your birthday. You will never look fat in those jeans. I have learned how to say, "I'm sorry, I don't know what I was thinking." I do not fart in bed, and I will never, EVER wear tighty-whiteys."

And this text is what led me to my date tonight. I’m hoping things go different this time around. For the first time in a long time, I’m actually excited about a blind date. And I think I found someone who gets me. Don’t believe me?

j: Hi there, you have a great profile!
tmj: thanks!
j: You've sold me, where do I sign up?
tmj: you can send an application to newport beach
tmj: i love the dog! (she has a Basset Hound with her in her profile photo)
tmj: I’m so jealous
j: Sounds good, the dog does come with the girl if that makes any difference.
tmj: i grew up with dogs. like them more than people usually
j: They rock. I agree with you.
tmj: what do you do in vegas?
tmj: are you a professional gambler?
j: Nah, I'm a stripper and porn star.

I swear I got all tingly.

I’m hoping it goes well, but you never can tell with digital dates. Sure, I’ve seen a photo, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned on the internet it's that you can’t always believe your eyes. Most everything you see is either ten years old, the result of the judicious use of Photoshop, or a bald faced lie.

I should know. I’m actually a 300 pound black woman named Estelle. Won’t she be surprised?