Page 11 of Caught Stealing

Taking a second to scroll through his details, I note we do have a lot in common. I probably should have read his stats first. Still, there are no red flags I can see, assuming his profile information is true.

I initiate the chat and find he’s already queued and waiting for me. I learned early that the app does have impressive safeguards like message moderation levels, including authorizing a third party to ghost watch the chat. Everything about that seems weird, so I decline the babysitting and enter the chat.

Good evening! How was your day?

This message is waiting for me when I enter and has a time stamp of five minutes ago. He was a bit early, which is at least a good sign he’s interested and punctual.

I was buried under dozens of statistics quizzes but overall, it could have been worse. How was your day?

I have no idea when we pass the formalities and get deeper into our chat, mostly because I’m more than three years out of the dating pool. Rory and I were together for a long time, and even though months have passed since our break up, I’m still not used to this.

I didn’t do much. Took another walk with my dog, paid the bills, organized a junk drawer. You know, standard Saturday activities for the old and boring.

Stop, you are not old. If you are, then so am I, and I refuse to allow myself to fall into a wheelchair any time soon.

Hey, don’t underestimate the fun of a wheelchair. We could have races. Terrorize kids on bikes. Get enough of us together, and we can take over a small town.

Wow, that went dark fast. What town would we take over?

I hear Fort Lauderdale is where all the older folks go these days.

Ah, but it’s probably already too full. We should pick a less populated town and save ourselves a lot of work here. How about? I don’t know, something with four nice seasons, low taxes, and slow living?

That sounds appealing now, actually. Do we have to wait until we’re wheelchair bound?

Eh, depends. Remember you have that one strike.

Oh, man, I’m never going to live that down, am I? Any chance we can reset?

Well, let’s see. How about I ask you a bunch of questions and just get right to the point of this?

She’s to the point. I like it. Shoot.

Are you or have you ever been married?

Neither. I’d have to be some kind of jerk to be married and on this app. Some might say I’m married to my job, but I’d be willing to adjust for the right woman (insert winky emoji)

It’s totally unfair that we can’t use emojis on this app, but did you know those things are copyrighted?

I did not. Good to know. Still…winky face.

Are we going to describe our emojis now? Next question. What are your thoughts on marriage?

Emoji descriptions, yes. Marriage, yes. The only reason I agreed to this app is because it seems designed for success and not…you know.

Yeah, seems that way. I’m glad you not here for…you know.

I promise, I’m not. What about you? Thoughts on marriage and kids?

I want a lot of kids, which can be a turn off for some men. I am Christian and so I’ll leave the actual number up to God. I only know I’d love a whole bunch of them.

I’m Christian as well. I don’t know a number either, but I’m not opposed to a big bunch. I’m open to only one as well. Like you said, it’s up to God.

Looks like the app is on the right track so far. It says you’re local. Are you in Savannah or rural?

I’m just outside of it, but not rural. Not that I’m opposed to rural. I’m pretty laid back about most of those things. What about you? Tell me about you.

I agree about being laid back about that stuff. I’ve also never been married. I’ve got an older sister who lives in Jacksonville. She’s married and has two kids, and I wish I saw them more but her husband’s job isn’t flexible. My parents are local, but travel a ton. Mom actually loves Fort Lauderdale, so you might be on to something there.

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