The chef

My first online contact was with a chef.

He had me at chef. I would get naked for a chef.

But then he opened his mouth and couldn't stop spewing stupid.

It started cool enough when he sent an email saying that we were matched  and did we want to talk.  I read the profile. Chef. Good enough for me. We emailed some, but he stopped contact. I was disappointed because, you know. A chef.

Whatever. I moved on.

So a few weeks go by and I get a wink from him. I know his name, so I send him a what's up email.  He answers that he wants to talk on the phone, so we exchanged numbers and he texts me pictures of the meal he is preparing: honey baked salmon, cauliflower clouds with spicy cheese sauce, a strawberry torte.  There was much oooing and awing from the food porn addicts in the break room.

I wanted to meet him.

He arranged the  time. He'd call at  7 o'clock. I was excited. I had visions of us sautéing vegetables and  tasting spicy cheese sauce in my kitchen. There was a lot of potential here.

But he was late. He set up the time and was 15-20 minutes late in calling. But he was coming home from visiting his former mother-in-law who is in an Alzheimer's unit. He took her some food.  I'm thinking "OMG a chef AND a nice person".

Then he just kept talking " You know, I'm tall, dark and sexy."

"I like to spend a lot of time in bed."

And "did we talk before?"

He had no clue about our previous interactions. I answered, "Email. We exchanged email."

 Still confused, "Did we call before?"

Someone doesn't have his listening ears on. I repeat. "Email."

Then all of a sudden, the lightbulb came on. "The lawyer.:

"Yes, the lawyer."

 "So, what happened?" he wondered.

"You dropped the ball!" I  felt like I was in a bad rom com. But I was optimistic that this is where the girl forgives the moron and the camera fades out as we feed each other hand crafted truffles.

But no, he has to keep talking. "I remember now! I got involved with a loose woman for three weeks," he said.

How much more am I going to forgive to be with a chef? I take a deep breath and chirp. "Good for you."

"Then we broke up. She kicked me out because I wasn't good in bed. Just kidding."

Praise be, he got off the phone. He said he'll call back in 12 minutes. Note, he didn't say 10 minutes, or 15. What is that about?

Since he's a chef, I think that maybe 12 minutes is a point of reference for him, like browning rolls. So he was going to call me back in the time it takes to brown rolls.  Got it.

Then I get a text. He's going to be delayed and will call me back in 22 minutes, which is the time it takes me to burn cookies.

The first rule in silver dating is:

1. If there is anything at all you don't like about someone, it's time to move on.

I hate burnt cookies.

NEXT!