Name: Moh
Age: 27
Occupation: MBA Student
Country of Orgin/Ethnicity: Bahrain
Hotness Rating: 6.5
Classification: The smooth guy
So member when I said I was asked for coffee right away? I agreed. Having literally just signed up with Match.com, stating my preferences as a man, white, Christian, age range 30-36, well-educated, and making a decent income above $45K, as well as living in the Twin Cities...I was instantly messaged by Moh (a man not fitting any of that criteria--especially NOT the Christian part), the smoothie..not to be confused with a smoothie DRINK.
So I get this pop up from Moh, kind of like IM, with this guy's picture and profile. This guy says hi, how are you, do you have time to talk? I told him yes, and while I was typing answers to his questions (where do you live, do you live alone, what do you do for fun) I was checking out his profile. I could tell he was from the Middle East right away, and guessed his "Moh" is actually Mohammed...but his pictures were pretty hot! So I thought hey---why the hell not. We start talking and considering it was over IM, we hit it off a okay. He asked to call me and I told him no, just text..gave him my number, then BAM! The guy texts me at 9:23 PM that same night on June 26:
"Hey what's up Sweetie this is Moh was really nice chatting with u." He then proceeds to ask my name and I tell him, and he said okay, feel free to call or text anytime. I thought yeah okay whatever, then went to bed. Match is exhausting :-)
Moh texts the very next day and we start talking about work. I ask him what he does, feeling a bit suspicious that he's texting me at 3 PM when he barely knows me. He said this: "I'm on vocation free all the time." I told him I too wanted a "vocation" and from there we just texted throughout the week. He asked me to meet him for coffee on Friday and I agreed.
So you get the point: texting was going well. Three days later on June 29th Moh and I took things to the next level and started actually talking by PHONE (whaaa?). Turns out his voice is devestatingly sexy and very sweet (when I can understand him past his thick accent). The conversation went well...maybe a little too well because I received a poem at 3:49 AM that morning that went a little something like this:
Look....
The moon is calling you.
See..
The stars are shining for you!
Listen...
The birds are sining to you!
Hear....
My heart says I miss you.
Yes ladies I know what you're thinking. He's no Pablo Neruda, BUT THIS IS THE FIRST POEM ANY GUY HAS EVER WRITTEN ME. Being a romantic myself, I melted. I turned to absolute mush. Like putty in this man's hands.
So Friday, July 1st comes. A half day at work, a mani/pedi scheduled at Mask Salon (thanks, Groupon) and a date on the horizon. I was feelin' good. Moh texts me right away at 2:39 PM: Hello sweet heart today is our day finally :-) Yay! The mani/pedi was fabulous..especially considering my pink sparkly glitter toes looked amazing.
I raced home and busted down my apartment door at 6:30 PM when I got home. I didn't even have time for pre-date tunes (Britney, Madonna, Katy Perry). Moh and I were to meet at 8! How was I to get ready that quick?! Well I managed somehow, and also cut a few corners (NOT curling your hair saves time-who knew?) and when I got to our designated meeting spot at Caribou I found myself feeling more at ease than I'd expected....which probably is where I went wrong initially.
It was raining and since I was newly freshed up and wanted to stay in my car instead of run across the parking lot, risking ruining my hair, makeup, outfit, oh and potentially tripping over myself...which luckily happens less frequently as the lower my heels get. Moh texted me and said he'd meet me in my car and we'd go inside together. The weather was nuts so I didn't see him at all until he literally got in my passenger side of my car. My breath caught in my chest--not just because he wore entierely too much colongue...but because his pictures scarcely depict him as beautiful as he is in person. His jet black hair was quasi slicked from the rain, his deep brown eyes with hints of green and gold, and muscular structure brought me to muster only these words: "Oh my God..Hi." The man brought me flowers, did I mention that part? Well anyway, we greeted each other and went inside to get our coffee.
We talked about our days, how his life was going, and how he ended up here in the U.S. being from Bahrain. He moved here when his brother passed away last year. He explained he couldn't be in his home country anymore and that it was too painful not to have his brother with him. When he told me the story and how his brother's last words were calling for Moh...I cried. I couldn't help it...Moh was obviously still so hurt from this and I empathized with him. He reached for my hand across the table at Caribou and apologized for crying and making me cry. We decided to leave the coffee shop after talking for 2 hours and go for a walk. I wanted to show him St. Paul since he's not as familiar with it, so we drove to park by my place. I faced a dillema now...should I walk in my heels...or should I change shoes? Our mothers, ladies, would tell us to keep the pretty shoes on and avoid any situations where a man would be in an enclosed space with you on a first date. Right?
I broke the rules....probably a few too many times.
*To Be Continued...
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