where's waldo

where’s waldo and i had been emailing and talking on the phone for a couple of weeks. i noticed he seemed slightly reticent to meet up, but i was ready to move on to the next step. because let’s face it, you need to see if there is any physical attraction. so we go for appetizers and cocktails at a café. it turns out to be a cool place, which will basically be the only good thing to come out of this date.

when i first meet him in front of the café, i notice that he can barely look at me. in fact, he hardly looks at me while we are talking for the first 30 minutes. where’s waldo is painfully shy. and you might be wondering if he was wearing a funny beanie hat and a striped sweater. no, he actually earned his nickname for other similarities to waldo. he was tall, very thin, and his face was wide at the top with a narrow pointy chin. and bad glasses again. he was actually one of the least attractive people i have ever met. i’m sorry, waldo, but it was true. he vaguely resembled his profile photos. vaguely. they must have been taken from the perfect angle, in really good light, and several years ago.

good conversation is lacking, and yet for some reason he actually orders a second drink. will the night ever end? we really don’t have much in common, though the emailing and phone calls may have led me to believe differently. i’m beginning to think he might actually believe this is going well. i’m being very nice, but trying not to give him the wrong idea. it’s really that i pity him. i hope he’s not mistaking it for interest. finally the bill arrives. he walks me to my car and goes in for the hug! yuck. it’s like hugging a big bird – he’s all bones. but it really all comes back to the face… so not attractive. please don’t let where’s waldo call again. i may have already hit my limit of kindness.

update
oh no, he emailed asking for a second date. he “had a really nice time on thursday.” damn, i knew i was too nice. ok, now how do i nicely say "there's no chance in hell..."?