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My Perfect Flaky Match

He finally called–the hot guy Linx had initially set me up with.  He called past the timeframe he was supposed to call within.  We exchanged voicemails a few times before we actually connected on the phone.
“Wow,” I said with surprise when he picked up.  “I was expecting to leave another voicemail.”
“Should I hang up so you can leave a voicemail?”
“Well, since I have you on the phone, I guess I can at least say hello.”
The line started clicking.  “Oh, someone’s trying to reach me.  Let me ignore that call.  Hold on one second.”
When he returned I laughed, “Well aren’t you Mr. Popular?”
“That’s right, baby.  Get in line.”
He was certainly the charmer.  I was smiling on the other end.
He asked me to tell him about my day, why I had a 773 cell phone number, where I was from, where I lived.  Then he did much of the same.  “I was born in the Philippines.  In Manila.  My parents are Greek.  My dad was an engineer so he worked in the Philippines.  I was born, then my parents got divorced.  And my dad ending up marrying a Filipino woman–who’s practically more my mom than my birth mom–but don’t tell my real mom that!  I go back a lot, at least every other year.  I love the Philippines.  Anyhow, I’m here in the city, curating art shows mainly in San Francisco but all throughout the country, too.”
I was smitten.  I’d been setup with someone who was probably more Filipino than I was.  He definitely was.  Filipinos are known for being late and carefree.  He always called a day or so after he said he would.  Then when it came to scheduling our first date, he said he’d call in one week after I was done with earnings and he was done with his next show.
He never called.

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06.29.08

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Welcome to my site, derived from an advice column I wrote while getting my MBA. I live in the San Francisco Bay Area. I give helpful, opinionated advice based on my own experience and from the expertise of my extensive network. For more, click here.

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