The Meat Packer

After a painful breakup from a long term relationship, I took several months off to recover and regroup. Eventually, I turned to online dating, which was new at the time.  After all, I had several friends who had had success there, so I figured it was worth a shot. 

After weeks of screening out unfit matches, I finally focused on one that called herself "Fun, Smart, Lady."  Turns out that she was two of those three things.

Our first meeting was at a coffee shop.  We had great conversation and agreed to meet at her favorite watering hole in Belmont Shore a week later. 

The big night arrives and I meet her at the door where she introduced herself as Tonya.   Dressed in a stunning white dress, she was probably one of the most put together women I had ever seen.  She was a Thai/Cambodian mix and her tanned skinned radiated from her milky white dress. 

She had a few attributes that weren't my cup of tea, like colored contacts an augmentation that could've qualified her for the adult film industry, but she seemed down to Earth during our text exchanges, so I was ok with it.

As we segued into deeper conversation, I noticed she had a habit of trying to use big words that didn't fit in the context of our discussions.  At one point, we were talking about watches and compare our selection of timepieces.  Noting that mine seemed to be off by a few minutes, she suggested that we "synthesize" our watches. At the time, it seemed cute.

I went to the bar to order two more drinks, at which time the bartender said 'what are you having?'  I ordered a double Malibu and he quickly interjected with 'and your LADY is having a Mojito.'   I didn't like the way he said "lady" but I was more impressed that he remembered her drink, since he hadn't served us initially and the place was packed. At the time, I remember thinking that perhaps he was implying that she was a prostitute, because perhaps it seemed odd that this stunning young lady would be out with with a guy like me.  Nevertheless, I glossed over it and eagerly headed back to the table.

After awhile, we left the bar and walked down to the beach where I learned about her exes that didn't "understand her" and could never come to grips with "what kind of woman" she really was. Since she was a CPA/accountant for a meat packing/food processing company, I interpreted that to mean that she was a strong woman working in a man's world. 

As the night progressed, we ended up at one of her favorite Mexican restaurants.

At one point, I went back to the counter to get some lemons for her water.  The busboy noted that he'd bring the lemons and as he walked away, I heard him utter words like "Lalo" and "Manocha" to his cohort.  I had heard the word Lalo before and thought it meant a boy who was the envy of his girlfriend's girlfriends which, again, I interpreted to mean something different...something like 'he was such a nice guy to come up and get her lemons.'   

When the lemons were delivered, the busboy seemed unable to keep his composure.  He seemed almost giddy.  Once again, I missed a signal, as I interpreted this to mean that he was taken aback by my date's stunning beauty.

The evening progressed further and we ended up at a place with live music. By this time, Tonya was getting touchy feely, which was a bit much given my conservative approach to dating and my chivalrous nature.  The date concluded with a hug and an agreement to see each other later that week.

For the next date, I met her at her apartment where I met her roommate, who was a very nice gay guy with a wicked sense of humor. At one point, I excused myself to use her bathroom, which was immaculate. Everything was freshly cleaned.  I noticed that the toilet seat was up, which, at the time, I dismissed to her cleaning regimen of perhaps these two shared a restroom. Another missed signal.

On this night, we ended up at a restaurant by the beach. Again, she was dressed to impress and smelled like a little slice of heaven. During the date, she enjoyed Mojito after Mojito. As she did, she opened up even further...and got even friendlier. The conversation was flowing well and despite her vocabulary challenges, I found her adorable. By midnight, it was time to walk her home. Hand in hand, we strolled back to her place. I marveled at how much we had in common...unlucky in love, but still optimistic, hard working, ambitious, extensive travel experience and a creative streak.

We got to the door and it seemed as if neither of us wanted to say goodbye. She was a bit tipsy, bordering on sloppy.  After rejecting an offer to come inside for a night cap, she professed her admiration for my gentlemanly ways with 'aww, you're such a gentleman.  I'm really liking you right now.'  As she leaned back against the wall, she pulled me close to her as if she was moving in for a kiss.  It was at this time that I could feel how much she really like me.  As in, I really FELT it.

She was clearly aroused.  "Clearly," as in you could see it bulging from her dress.

Shocked back to reality, I pulled back and looked down with stunning surprise. She had one finger in her mouth and coyly stated "that's for you, honey."  I took a minute, composed myself in awkward silence and stated "Im sorry.  I don't think I'm what you're looking for."  She grew angry and stated that 'I thought you knew.'  (I remember waiting for Ashton Kucher to pop out proclaiming that I've been "Punked.")

Um, no I didn't.  I politely said "I read your profile thoroughly and at no point did it state that your were...you know."  'It's called TransGender.  Baby, I'm the best of both worlds, how can you not be into this?'

Switching gears, I tried to find a way to be polite. I told her that "I'm surprised by all this and just need some time to take it all in."  Without missing a beat, she replied with 'Come inside for awhile. You can take it all in there.'

Trying not to laugh at the inference, I politely excused myself and headed home.

On the drive home, I evaluated how I had missed the signs: the toilet seat up. Mexican slang words.  Bartender's odd emphasis on the word "lady."   Realization that a "woman" this stunning being single was too good to be true.  Just for the record, this was the Mona Lisa of Trannies.  She didn't have a deep voice, an Adam's Apple or any other indication (except of course, the bulge in her skirt.)


I'm not casting judgment on Transgender persons or anyone, for that matter.  I can appreciate the notion of trying to "sell yourself" on a dating website wherein you accentuate your qualities, but it's a truth-in-advertising thing for me. You really need to give at least a FAIR representation of what you're offering.  Therein lies the problem with online dating, I surmised.

Obviously (to most), I ditched her phone number.  I saw her again online a few days later, where she had changed her username.  I think she should've changed it to "The Meat Packer,"  which I thought was a clever double entendre, but "TS_Tonya" is just as good, I suppose. 

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