Chester, I have a Story for You of Mistaken Identity

The Mystery Date –

Happy days are here again! I thought as I waited for my date to show up to the restaurant.

I met her online, while I was chatting with a few different women simultaneously.  Most of the women had dark hair dark and skin, dark eyes, and nice lips and hips, since that is my type.  She certainly was no exception.

I have been extremely busy lately, and finally found some available time on the weekend to check in on Hinge and Bumble. I had a great Saturday of doing nothing, eating Cheetos and playing video games while surfing the web for a date, something I hadn’t been able to do for months.

My research project had ended on Friday, and I could finally go back to just my regular daytime job only, in lieu of both, for the next few weeks. I figured that since I had some available time, having been so busy lately and hadn’t been out in a while, that I would remedy that fact.

I was missing the normal human interactions with a female, and missing having a woman’s touch in my life.

I’m a fun guy, a little reserved, but dangerously cheesy at times.

I had set up multiple dates for the week, and honestly since it was already Thursday and my third date this week, I couldn’t remember exactly which lady I was meeting this time.  Some would consider this a good problem to have, since I actually have several women interested in meeting me, I counted myself lucky.

“Just my luck and what the doctor ordered,” I told myself.

Although it came with a little stress and nervousness on my part, but never did I think this would end up as a case of Mistaken Identity.

Michelle, I remembered, was her name, right?  Is that right?

I had misplaced my phone earlier in the day and was unable to look it up. Why today of all days, did I lose that phone again? Maybe it’s in my office? Darn.

 

A Case of Mistaken Identity

My ex had referred to me as the absent minded professor on more than one occasion, and I cannot really dispute that. I can be a little short on memory space when interfacing with actual people.

She used to tell me, it’s a good thing you are tall and handsome, otherwise you would probably go through life unaware of women and relationships. She also said, “Fortunately for you, they seek you out.”

Again, she wasn’t wrong on either account. I was a little distracted at times with how to make everything work.  “A study for another time,” I thought.

In life there have been plenty of cases of Mistaken Identity. One that I heard of entailed a car crash between two ladies, in which they buried one woman, while the other remained in a coma.

The two woman had been mixed up at the hospital, and the married woman was the one who had actually been buried, but her husband clung to the bedside of the other woman thinking it was her, hoping she would get out of the coma. (That would make a good story, especially if they eventually got together and he remarried with the other woman- I will definitely consider writing that story one day!).  Anyway, I digress.

Yes indeed, this ended up a different version of Mistaken Identity, either the wrong date showed up to the wrong location of the restaurant chain or one had blind date and the other was essentially a walking moron who couldn’t remember who he was meeting. Maybe something else altogether.

I’m not going to tell you which one was me in this case, I will leave it up to you to make your best judgement. J

 

The Flamin’ Hot Date

Michelle walked in and I was sure she was my date, I was pretty sure, 98% sure, that I recognized her, although her hair was a little different style.  But, as you know how it is with black women, they can have a different style it seems weekly or maybe daily (possibly, but who’s paying attention really?), so I didn’t think much about it, or have a lot to go on really since I just met her online, and assumed she was my date.

I flagged her down as she scanned the restaurant, and had her sit across from me.  She said, “Hi! It’s great to finally meet you.”  I said, “Oh yeah, me too!”  The word ‘finally,’ registered in the far corner of my brain, but the conversation moved forward quickly and I couldn’t dwell on it.

She rapid fired a few comments and questions, for which I guess I got the answers correct, because it sure seemed to please her.  She smiled and laughed as I watched on. It felt like an actual tornado, instead of a whirlwind that swept us up in conversation and then flirting.

I thought that maybe the word ‘finally’ was just a figure of speech, just the anticipation of the week’s wait time, or maybe we had met before?  I will have to calculate the odds of that, being true.

That will be my Null Hypothesis in the follow-on study of this date.

I was looking good, but she was beautiful. So I was distracted. She was charming, so I was intrigued. She was extremely talkative, so I was caught up.

I was thinking, that you have to be hot to sell hot and for that, fortunately, we both filled the recipe.

I later realized that I didn’t really get the chance to ask a lot of questions, but I also didn’t really remember what Michelle was all about before meeting her anyway.

It all happened so fast that I felt as if I was just watching it unfold, and was barely participating.  I mean I was for sure part of it and I had a flamin’ hot time, but I didn’t really have to say much.

It was a one woman show, and man was she excited.

On some level I didn’t care, I enjoyed the entertainment, and also enjoyed that a beautiful woman sure liked me. I didn’t think about a lot of other levels until the next day really.

This date became pure entertainment, we laughed, flirted and then went on to a nightclub for more drinks and a little dancing.

As expected from this explanation, you can probably guess that this date ended up at my place and a night of some passion, a little craziness and Chester Cheetah snack food, eaten off of parts of both of us.  Much respect.

 

The Study of My Michelle

She spent the evening at my place, but with both of us having to work in the morning, she got up and got dressed to leave for her apartment.

She asked if I would call her again and of course I said yes, but I reminded her that I had lost my phone yesterday.  So, I told her I would contact her when I find my phone or get a new one.  I had thought I would look her up back through Bumble, and she can give me her phone number then.

It was a great night of entertainment, and it was just what I needed at the time. I really wanted to see her again.  We kissed and hugged, and off she went.

I headed to work and found my phone, it was where I had left it on top of the vending machine at work, when I was getting my bag of Cheetos.

Chester, do I have a story for you.

Later that night, I pulled up Bumble to search for Michelle.  I wanted to get her number and see her again.  But the Michelle that I was speaking with, wasn’t the Michelle that I met last night.

I looked at the other women I had both spoken with an/or matched with, and didn’t think she was any of these either.

Well maybe it was Hinge and I was mistaken.

I pulled up Hinge and all of my matches, but still didn’t see my Michelle… Was her name really Michelle? At this point, in hindsight, I was unsure whether we ever exchanged names or verified each other’s identity.

In actuality,  it took me a couple of weeks to find Heather again (not Michelle after all).

I had completely forgotten that she had participated remotely with my research study, and that we had not met in person before. I had asked her out a few months ago though the study.  She was doing a semester abroad and wouldn’t be in town until the study was over. We had set a date for which I completely forgot about.

For my follow-on study, I changed Null Hypothesis to ‘I’m absent minded.’  And then confirmed it.

We dated for a few months, and it was like a whirlwind romance this time, and we had a great summer together.

Heather was the cheesiest.

1 Comment
  1. That is stupidly funny

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