I waited a couple of days for The Winemaker to follow up with plans for a date, and when that didn’t materialize*, I went back to the trenches: the endless, repetitive profiles of either seemingly awesome or terrifyingly repulsive men on match.com.

Suddenly, there is something new. Someone has added me to his “favorites” list.

Someone, obviously, with very discerning taste.

Someone who has not contacted me, though.

Maybe someone needs a little encouragement.

I can do that.

I read his profile and he likes to travel and wants to do more of it (me too!); he likes to cook and wants to learn to do it better (me too!); he read The Help (me too!). I fire off a quick email.

He replies really, really quickly. He has lots to say … about his cheesemaking classes, about every single topic I mention in my profile, about The Help, about traveling by cruise, and please write back.

I do write back, a day or so later, but really only have the energy to address about half – or less – of the ground he’s attempted to cover in his response to me.

He writes back, again, quickly – and again, at great length. He tells me about how he makes ice cream all the time and asks my favorite flavor. He tells me how he reads a lot because he listens to audiobooks in his car during his commute, which is an hour each way. He tells me about all the groupons he’s bought for various adventures and he’s just dying to use them – with someone.

He’s about to start a two-week vacation over the Christmas holiday – more of a staycation, since he isn’t actually going anywhere, nor does he seem to have any plans, although he makes some passing remarks about finishing up his divorce paperwork.

I verify that his wife has moved out, and learn that he lives out in the country – on five acres in a town with … not much in it. He owns a tractor.  He and his wife tried to sell the house, evidently, for a couple of years, but what with the market the way it is – and not a lot of people want five acres in the country.

Myself included, I think.

*That was over two months ago as of this writing. He still logs in daily. What I can’t figure out is, why?

It gets tiresome poring over picture after picture and profile after oddly similar profile on match.com. I send winks. I send quick emails. I receive a few, some of which I respond to, but most of which I ignore.

I calculate a 10% response rate.

I get bored.

Then I get a random “like” – you know, like on Facebook. Someone has “liked” my profile picture and posted a comment to me: “What a gorgeous smile!”

Well, flattery will get you everywhere, especially when you’re a handsome, successful, upper-40’s male who likes theater and wine. I decide to overlook that in his profile picture, he’s wearing a turtleneck sweater of the sort that went out with Dieter and his monkey.  I’ve always had a weakness for eurotrash. There, I said it.

So I reply with a polite Thank You and an inquiry about his wine activities.

He replies the next day explaining that he volunteers at a winery, and would I like to share my radiant smile with him over a glass of wine, perhaps?

Sure, I reply. I suggest some dates.

And though I can see he logs in to match daily, that is the last I heard from him.

I wandered through the match ads and found one with a photo of a man – slightly older, but nice looking, with what was clearly a Thoroughbred horse. It’s hard to look at all these men’s profiles and think of something to say on a subject that matters to me. I drink wine, sure, but I don’t converse about it – wine seems to be a big topic on match. I cook, and cook well, but so do lots of people – in fact nearly everyone, if match is any gauge. I don’t camp – at least, not willingly – and although I might go on a hike or bike ride from time to time, I’m not sure I’d want to make that my opening volley. I could end up with someone who would be sadly disappointed to discover that not only am I not outdoorsy in the least, but I prefer to spend my Saturday nights cracking jokes MST3K-style about vintage movies with a crew of twitter friends*.

Horses, though, I can talk about. One of the more redeeming aspects of my childhood is how unwholesome it was – my mom loved horseracing and I spent many a weekend at the track. I saw Seattle Slew win the Triple Crown and watched Affirmed nose out Alydar the following year. I had a crush on Steve Cauthen and asked the groomsmen to give him notes from me.

So I fired off a note to Mr. Horse Lover. And he replied the next day:

Thanks for the note. Too small of a world… I was at the Seattle Slew/Affirmed race as well. It’s a vivid memory for me. I lived up in Westchester at the time. Horses are a big part of my life especially during racing season of course. I see you’re from Kirkland at present – that about splits the difference from where I work and live. Your job must be interesting to say the least the last couple years being stock market related!Would love to get to know you more. Keep in touch!

I must be mis-reading. As with wine, I don’t consider myself to be expert about horses – but Seattle Slew did not race Affirmed at the Triple Crown. Different years. Different races.

Maybe his grammar just sucks, and he needs an editor. He meant to say “Those are vivid memories …” That must be it. I can do that. I edit people all day long. I used to return my dyslexic cousin’s letters to him with the spelling corrected.

So I reply, ignoring the error and making friendly inquiries about where he keeps his horses, where he races them, and the length of his commute which sounds … painfully long.

He replies:

hi you,

My horses live at the track when they are in training, but board up at a friends farm in Granite Falls when they are on vacation or still growing up.
My office is in Bellevue and I live up in Mill Creek, so commuting isn’t the best part of my life but I have a lot of flexibility in my schedule so thankfully I can often avoid the worst of it all!
Always enjoyed following the markets so I’m sure your job would still be interesting to me, although my savings and investing these days is mostly in the hands of my 401k people… for better or worse!
I hope you holiday is going well too!
xo

Hey you? xo? And I’m supposed to answer this … how? There is literally nothing in his bizarrely affectionate reply for me to respond to.

I spend two days trying to come up with a reply that doesn’t leave me feeling annoyed, and then decide that annoyed is perhaps not the best way to kick off a relationship of any sort.

Back to the search results. Too bad about the horses, though.

* aka, tweeple. There, I said it.