This Thing's Got Legs, Baby

The dating website route seems to have been a fruitful one as, within moments of clicking the “submit application” button not so many days ago, I received a message from a potential suitor. Okay, truth be told, I received a few messages, but only one of them from someone I’d actually entertain meeting (“hey whatz up how r u doin 2day beautiful???” does not elicit a response). But this particular suitor seemed normal and the pictures in his profile made it appear as though his interests fell closer to winter sports than assault with a deadly weapon, so I felt relatively safe in responding.

We emailed back and forth over the weekend (things move quickly on said dating website – people, it seems, are very serious when it comes to finding internet love) and I found myself chained to my computer Sunday night, trapped in a web of instant messaging conversations with not just him but also another Cereal Date prospect. I’m quite the internet Cereal Dating player.

Aforementioned gentleman caller (or IMer, if you will) was texting from his Blackberry, he claimed, as his 3-month old niece slept on his chest. Sweet. I immediately accused him of using that line to woo the ladies and he promptly emailed me a picture of the babe (though suspiciously awake now). I chose to believe him. He asked if I had MLK Day off, to which I responded that I currently have the distinct pleasure of having every day off (thanks WGA and AMPTP!) and the idea of celebrating together over a bowl of cereal was proposed.

The next day, after my morning celebrations of Martin Luther King had concluded and I hadn’t heard anything, I sent an email to my baby-exploiting match saying that I was thinking of snacking on a bowl of cereal around 4pm and would be happy for company, if he was interested. It seems, in the world of Cereal Dating, I’m also quite aggressive. He was interested, it turned out, and that is the story of how Cereal Date number 2 was made. Magical, huh?