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He sat across from me telling me about his day. We’d met on He was, I’m guessing, somewhere in his late sixties, had a couple of days beard, and wore a loose tshirt that read in bright red letters, “line forms in my rear" strained around his large belly. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this,” I said, interrupting. “What do you mean?” “I mean, that you are nothing like your online profile at all. You aren’t fifty. You aren’t athletic and muscular. You came on a date without your wallet. I mean…” “But you saw my pictures and came to meet me. I don’t understand.” “I can’t date who you used to be......... I can only date who you are right now. Which is not who you present yourself as in your profile. I’m into athletic guys who stay in shape that are looking for a relationship. The photos in my profile are updated every month or so; my main picture is usually taken that day. It’s important for me to present myself as I currently am.” In response, the date then removed his teeth, setting them on a napkin on the table. “I can show you a whole new world of great blowjobs,” he said enthusiastically, missing the crispness of his vowels. “See,” I said, after a small pause to collect my thoughts, “that is where I think the disconnect is. I didn’t come to meet you for coffee and perhaps dinner for a blow job. I don’t put date and “new world of great blow jobs” in the same thought process. If I want a blow job, I can go to Blow Buddies or somewhere where it’s ‘just about a blowjob,’ but a date, well, those are for guys that I want to do a wide range of activities with.” He put his teeth back in, pouted and said, “So what you’re saying is, we’re not going to have sex?” “That’s very much what I’m saying.” “Well, then,” he said, picking up his phone from the table. He scooted his chair back and without another word, got up and left the coffee shop. I sat there for a moment a little embarrassed. I looked around the shop and wondered if people had watched the whole thing unfold. At least the latte was outstanding.