Just got off the phone with a new potential, The Teacher. How did we meet, you ask? Well, we technically haven't. His sister is friends with my friend Aimee, and the two of them conspired to introduce us. (Plus, Aimee's got two kids to feed and I think she wants in on the finders' fee.)
What. A. Nice. Guy.
I mean, I guess anyone can fool you into thinking they're nice in the span of 20 minutes, but he just seemed genuinely nice. And not in the too nice sort of way either. (Unlike a guy I once went out with who literally said, "Wowee!" instead of swearing. Shit you not.)
Sounds like he's close with his family (a plus), has a job that he likes (a plus) and has a good sense of humor (a definite plus).
HOWEVER... I'm sure you're wondering why I titled this entry "time for a diet." As if I'm not self-conscious enough as it is about my body, The Teacher told me that he did an amateur body building competition a few months ago for the first time... and won. (Also weird: he sounds almost exactly like The Banker on the phone.)
(In his defense, he only brought up the body building thing because he was worried that they sent me a picture of him from the competition and he thought that would have been queer.)
Holy crap! I just ate fifty pounds of stuffing on Thanksgiving! I mean, I need to wear Spanx under my Spanx right now! I can't date a freaking body builder!
Side note: in true six degrees of separation form, The Teacher knows a kid that I went to high school with (who stalked me after the Cleveland Magazine singles article I was in a couple of years ago). They played baseball together for a little while in college. Is it just me, or is Cleveland shrinking?
Anyhow, the conversation ended without discussion of a specific meeting day/time, but with the intention to talk again soon.
Guess that gives me some time to wrap myself in Saran Wrap and garbage bags and jump on a treadmill.