There are things people will tell you when a relationship goes sour.  They always tend to entreat you not to worry since there was better to be had "out there". Most times, they phrase their entry as “there are a lot of other fish in the sea!” 

I don’t know where they have fished. Or why they have not chosen to make a killing of a living from their fishing spots. (They could do tours or sell their fish at some upscale market.) For, so many times, I’ve been led to think someone poisoned my waters.  All I ever seem to be able to hook are mutant fish.  I wish I could say Tony* was the weirdest of my lot.  But he doesn’t even come close to the men I have encountered online (or offline!).

Now, offline men I will let off the hook (in every sense of the word). They have an excuse. When you are face to face with a person- weird moments tend to happen. There’s tons more pressure in face to face situations. Many times, stupid things get said and done. By both of you. But, online men have more of a chance to carefully groom themselves. They can adopt a more attractive persona- show their best side. It’s just such a pity they normally fail even at this and quite quickly.

This brings me to Hunte*.  He certainly was not the weirdest of the bunch- but a strange one nevertheless. Hunte came after Tony. Or maybe he might have existed at the same time as Tony, but rose to prominence after Tony’s departure. One (mutant) fish jumps the hook/ boat- another hops on; just as in offline life.  Hunte was a sports car enthusiast- born in the Caribbean but raised in Canada*.  He was good looking enough- though nothing spectacular. We had a brief chat via a particular online dating site’s chat system. Then, maybe a week or so after, we moved to yahoo messenger.  I would listen in all my ignorance to his talk of fast cars. He would send me pictures of a car with which he had won races and shows.

Hunte and I would spend long minutes battling on Yahoo- chess, dominoes and checkers. He appealed to my competitive side. I would shriek in dismay when he captured my poor pawns. I would gloat as he failed to win domino games. He would send me the latest pictures he had taken of his daughter. I’d joke that she must have gotten her looks from her mother. He would, mockingly, get angry.

He was never adamant about knowing where I went or with whom.  He was good company.  We were friends. Once, during one of our voice chats, some woman called his landline.  Instead of hanging up with me, he put her on speaker. She was pleading- asked what she’d done and why he no longer called her as before. He let her know that she was too clingy and that he was not interested in her.  She apologized again and again.  It was strange, like those scenes in the movies in which the officer does his/her best to stall the criminal on the phone.  I felt as if he wanted me to bear witness to this woman’s humiliation. A very awkward silence enveloped us when that conversation ended.

A minute later, Hunte was apologetic. He reasoned that he should not have put her on speaker.  I didn’t say anything. I just wondered why he did. For a fleeting second I even pictured him doing something like that to me one day. But I brushed the thought aside. He and I were not dating. Plus, I needed to win our current game of chess so very badly.

*Real name and place has been altered.

Coming Next Saturday: Dating In The Fast Lane