The Dating Game: GROWLr and the Foot Guy

So I’ve placed an ad on GROWLr. It’s this dating app for the iPhone that’s tailor-made for the homoesexualist looking for love, and without having to wander too far from home: it’s GPS based.

I, of course, am looking for significantly more complicated entanglements than most guys on the site, but I seem to have worked my way through all the other dating sites without finding my Mr. Right, and thought, what the heck, maybe Mr. Right is hidden somewhere among the Mr. Right Nows.

Following the lead of most guys on the site, I posted a picture of me with my shirt off, during the buffest moment of my life, which mercifully wasn’t too long ago. I said simply that I was looking for love… short and to the point. Immediately the incoming message tone started blinging, woof after woof, grr after grr. I heard from several guys who had completely ignored me on other sites where I had my shirt on and all serious about looking for a relationship. I tell ya, take your shirt off, don’t say much, and they will come. My next door neighbor even hit me up with a woof, not recognizing my chest. Men are this shallow and this predictable.

So this morning I got a very heated request from this one guy in New York who wanted pictures of my feet. Just my feet. I don’t have or share the kinds of pictures most guys on those sites are after, but I was waiting for my oatmeal to cook and had finished the paper, so I thought, what the heck. After the first photo, he texted back excitedly, asking for more pictures. I took another, and another. His requests became more and more specific, of the soles of my feet, just the soles. But not cropped, he wanted the entire foot in the image. And the other one, too. He even texted me sample pictures. It was not easy, with my oatmeal boiling on the stove, but I endeavored to oblige. I had never met a textbook fetishist before, just the weekend ones at street fairs and such. This one was so demanding, more more more. One picture was not enough, please just one more, and then one more. And only one angle of view seemed to satisfy his insatiable craving. I sent him a final picture, exhausted, and sat down with my oatmeal.