Womp womp

Ladies and gentlemen,

I have not forgotten about you! It was recently found that I have a very painful stomach condition and ulcers too, so cute right? I will be fine with time, just unfortunately on a kind of forced hiatus.

Stay tuned folks

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Is It Me?

No. It’s not, but the onslaught of inappropriate messages may have you and me occasionally thinking otherwise.

Here’s one now!
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I’ve been getting a lot of messages where guys are just like “You should come over!” Oh! Really? I should? To your house? (potential murder shack) No. And when I say no, they persist in trying to convince me. I already said no. I will continue to say no until i’m bored of answering you at which point my answer will become radio silence.

I think i’m a relatively fun person. I want to have fun. I want someone who wants to have fun with me. Like off the top of my head…a lightsaber fight in the middle of Target, or getting drunk and going bowling, or taking a random road trip. There is ABSOLUTELY NOTHING that makes me feel like a jaded bitch more than responding to these messages. No, I don’t want to go to your house. No, I don’t want to see your penis. No, I don’t want to meet up with you at 2 AM. No, i’m not sending you a picture of my boobs. Answering those questions again and again on a regular basis is pretty discouraging. Guys actually get annoyed by  my refusal to cooperate, yikes.

Where do regular people meet? Is that a thing? Because it’s not online.

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Horror story time, a few posts back I mentioned going on a date to the movies with that weirdo who kept invading my personal space, remember? Great. I actually went on another date with him…against my will, kind of. So basically I had mentioned prior to our first date that I liked a certain comedian, it just so happened that this comedian happened to be doing a show locally and Space Invader got us tickets. So we get through the miserable first date and I was ecstatic it was over UNTIL! I remembered we were supposed to go to see that comedian two weeks later. I didn’t want to bail and be a dick because he spent money on the tickets and it was a super nice gesture, I just didn’t really like hanging out with him.

The day before we were supposed to go I get a message asking if I wanted to get dinner prior to the show, which I politely declined. I then got a message that said “I’m not sure what time the comedy thing is going to be over but blahblah Arts Center is having an Alfred Hitchcock double feature…maybe we could go after?” ………………………………………………………………………………………………………So i’m going to an hour + show with you to start with and then you want me to sit through two long movies after? Will we at least be out by daylight? What the fuck? No. Trying to cram 3 dates in to 1. Get outta hereeeee. I declined that as well, but seriously?

*Before going further I should mention that I typically wear all black. I’m not “goth” or “emo”, I like black. Classy black, expensive black. It’s my signature. This had come up previously in a conversation with Space Invader.

Soooo, day of the show. It is once again insisted upon that he pick me up despite my plea to meet him there. We agree on a time. He shows up a half hour early. I’m a girl for the love of god,  I need time to get ready! He had to wait outside while I finished my makeup, sorry boo. I finally get out to the car, what do I see? My date who typically wears color …is wearing all black. We match. Oh my god. I pretended not to notice but it freaked me the fuck out. All the way there he talked about every single thing he knew I liked and kept saying “Don’t we have SO much in common!” I knew we didn’t. He sure tried to convince himself though. He also talked about how his Dad could tell he was going to meet up with a girl and asked him all kinds of questions about me, eventually saying “She sounds great! You should bring her around!” This was a 12 minute car ride, I felt so claustrophobic I wanted to exit while it was still moving.

We finally get there, I find the bar. I start ordering drinks, which I insist on paying for. I get him one too, because I am a gentleman. So the show starts, I get to laugh. I’m enjoying myself. I notice he’s staring in to the side of my head again. You paid money to see a comedian but once again you’re staring at me. This is not cute, this is uncomfortable. The rest of the evening went on without much incident except for when he went to drop me off. He pulled in to the driveway and I thanked him for taking me to the show (because MANNERS) he asked me if I wanted him to walk me to the door. I said no. I said no thank you actually. He asked me if I was sure, I said I was. His response to that was, “You know what? i’m just going to, I wouldn’t feel right if I didn’t”. Now I know my driveway is about 100 ft long but the odds of me being tackled by a Yeti on the trek to the door aren’t really alarmingly high. I just let out a sigh and gave a really awkward tour of everything lining my driveway because I didn’t know what else to say. “Well…here’s a big tree. I think an owl lives in it. That’s the air conditioning unit. There’s a pond right there. Here’s the deck! Ok, bye- oh, you want to come up on the deck? Okay. Well here’s the deck then…uhhh…there’s a fire pit over there, it’s pretty cool. Anyway…thanks again!” Once on the deck he just stood there awkwardly, I said good night and shut the door while he continued to stand there. Thankfully, I never saw him again. He may have seen me though, he might still be watching from the bushes.

-The End-

 

 

No….Just No.

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I’m annoyed. Some days I can’t even bring myself to check my messages. Why? because I don’t want to read one more message that indicates i’ve put out an ad on a porno site for lonely guys to message me for a good time. My profile explicitly states I am not interested in hook ups, but this does nothing to deter the messages I get about them.  This might sound like a weird problem to have but I just have no desire to be up to my eyeballs in dicks.

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Despite my strong urge to quit and just commit to a solitary life of cat ladydom (would that really even be that bad?) I stay. I stay because you fuck boys will not beat me! Some where in this shit parade of fuckery there is a decent person….I hope.

I’m not really sure when it became acceptable for people to treat each other like we’re like…live sex show performers. I’m not going to drop what i’m doing and send you scandalous pictures or dirty messages, and why in the fuck are you so comfortable asking me to do that? We’re fucking strangers. 3 minutes ago you told me you were looking for a serious relationship, now you want a full frontal? HA. No.  Here’s a good rule of thumb, if you wouldn’t say it to my face, don’t say it to me online. Or ever.

One of my favorite things is when a guy acts like he wants to hang out with you to get to know you, but then you get a message like….fbuddy

I see you, boo. So you’re telling me, a stranger…with a full time job, that you want me to meet up with you at 2:30 AM? You really think i’m just going to go with that? Sounds like a booty call to me….or a recipe for murder. Dun dun dunnnn

I was speaking to a friend a while ago and she told me that she was supposed to go on a date with a guy on a Wednesday night. The dude texted her on Tuesday to ask if they could meet up for a little while THAT day, before their official date to see if they clicked. (ISN’T THIS WHAT DATES ARE FOR?!) She responded that she was only free for an hour or so, but he said that was fine. She was appalled by the idea of being PRE DATED. I remember her saying, “He wants to see if i’m worth spending money on!” Gross. They didn’t wind up “Pre dating” that day, and the very next day he texted her early in the afternoon saying he was really tired and he didn’t know if he was going to be available for their actual date later.

 

Guys. You’re better than this…..aren’t you?

 

Too Much Too Soon

I seem to find a lot of “too much too soon” guys, the first of  which (the human octopus) I mentioned in my previous post. There are several kinds of this type of guy, the kind i’m referring to tonight are the desperate to give you their heart and love you type. Typically these are nice guys. REALLY nice guys. Actually – too nice. Wayyyyyy too nice. I’ll admit in the past I’ve run with some real douche bags. BUT when you’re too nice and do absolutely anything I say while looking at me all glossy eyed (maybe even with a drool spot or two)that’s not good either. It’s too easy, there’s no challenge there. Have your own opinions! Be your own person! Disagree with me! I would get so freaking bored with someone who just did whatever I said all the time.

Here’s my thing with this, i’m really good at finding guys who are either TOTAL fucking assholes or ready to marry me immediately and be my stepford husband. This is clearly unbalanced. WHERE IS THE MIDDLE GROUND!? For fucks sake, this is ridiculous. Are there even any good guys left? Is chivalry totally fucking dead? Are there any halfway normal dudes out there? I sure as hell haven’t met any.

Here’s a comprehensive list of the types of guys that want to date me….or have:

  1. Drug dealer
  2. Drug user
  3. Alcoholic
  4. Professional wrestler
  5. Stage 5 clinger
  6. Married
  7. Secretly gay
  8. Musicians
  9. Secretly gay musicians (FUCKING MUSICIANS. Bane of my existence)
  10. Anyone who doesn’t have a car/phone/place to live

That’s a real group of winners, huh? but I digress.

I think the Crypt Keeper would be a great character to pop up and do an intro monologue about my night, “Good Evening Boys and Ghouls, tonight’s twisted tale of terror involves a young lady who makes terrible decisions concerning the men she goes out with!” *cackling*

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Isn’t he adorable? I wonder if he’s single? Anyway…

Against my better judgement I went on a second date with one particular guy who was just…okay. He was nice, he was polite, he was interested. He bored the fuck out of me, okay? He was fucking boring and a little creepy. I’ll get to that. So, rewind – I go out to dinner with this guy and it okay. Nothing spectacular. I consulted with my friends and, even though I wasn’t crazy about the idea, agreed to go out again. Maybe I could learn to like “Just Okay”, maybe that was the “normal” type of guy I thought I was missing out on. Let’s at least give it a shot. We decide to see a movie, a scary one. My fav! Yay! He tells me he can pick me up, I decline. Firstly, he’s basically a stranger. Secondly, no. I try, politely to explain the fact that the movie theater is right between our houses…let’s say it would have been about a 20 minute drive for each of us – both of us coming from completely different directions. He insists on picking me up. I relent, all the while grumbling to myself that this is already more trouble then it’s worth.

He picks me up at my house, we drive to the movie theater. He’s blabbering, i’m trying not to vomit everywhere. He loves to jam on the brakes, the vents are also blowing in the hot smell of burnt rubber. Fantastic. We get to the movie theater, and I can’t remember if the particular movie we wanted to see had been sold out or we just missed it and the other one was too late or whatever…but he was mad. He wanted me to see the movie I wanted to see, that’s nice I guess. He suggested we go somewhere else, but I told him we could just see whatever else was playing, it wasn’t a big deal. He insists on going somewhere else, I relent. Back to the car! Back on the road. This time, there’s traffic. There’s that lovely burnt rubber smell again, and now he’s hitting the brakes constantly. Now I’m car sick AND have whiplash!. We FINALLY arrive at a different movie theater, I burst out of the car gulping in fresh air and FREEDDDDDOMMMM….but only for a moment. We go inside, get the tickets…blah blah blah boring stuff, fast forward through all that crap. We’re sitting in our seats. He remarks that it’s a shame that the arm rests don’t go up so people can be closer. I smile. I smile because i’m so fucking happy the arm rests don’t go up. Thank you baby Jesus.

TIME OUT
So let me take a moment to say that I LOVE scary movies. I love them. But generally I am a big fucking baby. When i’m watching anything that’s really scary I watch a lot of it through my fingers OR through this kind of hair mustache I make with my really long hair. I kind of twist it around and hold it in front of my mouth/nose so I can dodge behind it if I get too freaked out.
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So there I am with my hair mustache, minding my own business. I feel like someone’s watching me, someone IS watching me. “Just Okay” guy has been watching me for the first 20 minutes of the movie. He has never once looked at the movie screen. This knowledge unnerves me but I try to forget it and go about my viewing of this terrifying movie. Turns out, I can’t fucking unknow that he’s staring at me. My eyes keep shifting from the movie to the very edge of my peripheral vision, where I can still see him staring. Ughhhhhhh. His hand moves. FACK, don’t even think about it dude. I have given you exactly zero signs that I want you up in my personal space. He puts his hand on my knee. He shakes it. He’s shaking my fucking knee. He leans over and says…”It’s okay”…What? Yes. I know. I mean…less now because you’re touching me, but everything is still alright. I nod, he moves his hand. A few minutes later…………….it returns. He shakes my knee, “It’s okay” he says. I say, “I know.” I have now jammed my body in to an uncomfortable position in my chair, one that allows me to be as far away from him as possible while still being in the seat next to him. AGAIN, that fucking hand returns to shake my knee and he leans in to say, “It’s okay.” LEAVE ME AND MY HAIR MUSTACHE ALONE. Everything about my body language was screaming “You are not welcome here”. I spent the rest of the movie twisted up like a pretzel. Fuck. Why you gotta make things so weird, dude? Just be cool. BE COOL DAMNIT.

After the movie he didn’t want to bring me home (of course not) so we sat in a coffee shop where he asked me questions about myself while leaning on his elbow with his head in his hand staring at me with wide eyes. He replied to nearly everything I said with a, “Me too! Don’t we have so much in common?! It’s crazy!” It is crazy! Crazy how much I want to get the HELL away from you!

F*@#, Marry, Kill

Have you ever played Fuck, Marry, Kill? Basically 3 people are named (celebrities or coworkers or whatever) and you have to say of those 3 who you would fuck, who you would marry, and who you would kill. It recently occurred to me that online dating is a much bigger and terrifying version of that…one where you may not necessarily be the one making that determination.

These are the people you meet on the internet, people who want to fuck you
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people who want to marry you………..yeah, there’s no picture for that – and people who want to kill you.
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unlike these obvious examples, it can be difficult to tell who is who.

At first when I started investigating the online scene it didn’t even cross my mind that I was actually going to meet any of these people. I was just browsing, “It’s just like shopping online!”, I thought gleefully. And I was right! Just like it – if instead of getting what you want it’s a mystery box full of something terrifying, like spiders.

One day someone asked me if I wanted to meet up. WHAT?! None of the other items I had browsed online asked me if I wanted to meet up. I realized there was a fucking person (not shoes or makeup) on the other side of that message and if I ever wanted anything to come of my conversations with them, i’d have to meet them. This thought filled me with dread and anxiety. What if they’re a member of the Manson family? What if they’re the next Jeffrey Dahmer? What if they put me in a well in their basement a la Silence of The Lambs and make me put lotion on my skin so they can later remove it and wear it? Why are my examples so creepy and specific?

Tonight’s chilling tale of awkwardness is brought to you courtesy of the very first time I faced my fears, and met up with someone in person that I met online.

It was a dark and stormy night…it wasn’t. I just lied right to your face, see how easy that is? Anyway, it wasn’t stormy but it was dark as fuck. I was sitting in the parking lot at a local harbor waiting for this guy to show up. I was texting my friends frantically, “Why did you guys make me do this?” “If you don’t hear from me in an hour i’m probably dead”. Out of my peripheral vision I saw a truck pull up next to me and quietly began to freak out. I decided to pretend I hadn’t noticed and continued sending rapid fire messages with my last known whereabouts in case shit went bad. He got out of his car so I got out of mine, his mouth twitched and I flashed a smile. He was obviously nervous too! YES! Great! This sucks for everyone involved! We stand by the water and do that “Heyyyy, how’s it going?” song and dance until we’re just standing in awkward silence. “Want to take a walk around the park?” he asks. I know this is how I wind up chopped up in the bushes, I just know it. Against my better judgement, I say sure.

We start to make our way around this giant park…at night…in the dark….by the water. So many places to dump my body. He asks me a question, I babble non stop in response. Maybe, just maybe if I talk his fucking ear off he’ll decide he won’t want to murder me! This is a great plan! It’s not, it’s a shitty plan but it’s all i’ve got right now. I see his hand move, my eyes grow wide with terror………..he takes my hand, he holds it. We’ve been hanging out for 10 minutes. So time out -don’t get me wrong here, i’m thankful he wasn’t trying to stab me but I actually want to establish some kind of connection before there’s any kind of touching and I don’t know this guy from a hole in the wall. Dude is a fast walker, he’s kind of steering me through the park with an iron grip on my hand. This is fucking weird, My hand is sweating, can he tell? Why won’t he let go? Does he not get it’s too soon?

After he drags me through the park we wind up back by the water, he asks me if I want to sit. As he hasn’t yet relinquished his vice like grip on my sweaty paw I squeak out an “okay” because it appears I don’t really have a choice. We sit. I on the bench, and he basically on my lap. What the fuck. We’re about 20 minutes in. He is making me so uncomfortable. We start to chat about your basic shit (family, pets, school..blah blah) the conversation itself isn’t so bad. Want to know what’s bad? He has released my hand, but his arm is now around my shoulder (tightly) and he is staring in to the side of my head so intently I am sure he’s trying to explode it with his mind, I know if I turn my head even slightly he’s going to take that as a sign to go in for a smooch. Dear God. This is painful.

Try to imagine you’re sitting on a bench with someone who is basically a stranger. You’re by the water, it’s beautiful…the water, the stranger? awkward. The stranger has wrapped you in their arms like an octopus within the first 20 minutes of meeting. Despite this, you try to carry on a conversation but cannot turn to make eye contact with the person because they are sitting next to you staring in to the side of your head SO CLOSELY, giving you no choice but to look out out over the water and contemplate what a terrible fucking life choice you made by coming out tonight. You are in such a tight grip you cant even check your phone.

I wanted to go home. I felt bad! The kid seemed sweet, but kind of also like he wanted to lock me up in his basement and never let me go. TWO EXCRUCIATINGLY AWKWARD HOURS LATER…I say i’m really tired, he doesn’t immediately release me. Yes, he’s been squeezing me this entire time. I probably have bruises, it won’t surprise me if they are tentacle shaped. FINALLY, we get up. As we inch closer and closer to my car I breathe a sigh of relief, freedom is in sight! I turn and say good night, he goes to give me a hug which I reluctantly except. He goes in for the kiss and I panic, but turn my head just in time. DENIED. Sorry boo.

We never went out again, but he continued to send me messages for months. MONTHS. I tried my best to let him down easy, he didn’t get it. Eventually I just had to stop responding, which I hate. Ghosting on people is so rude, but I wasn’t left with much of an alternative.

Despite this encounter totally freaking me out, I continued on with my online dating endeavor and have many more awkward stories to share as a result. Stay tuned!

And So It Begins

That’s it! It’s decided! I return to an undisclosed dating site, I reactivate my barely used profile with my carefully chosen pictures and I wait…

Then my phone goes off. Then it goes off again. Then again and again, you get the picture. BOOM! Dudes as far as the eye can see. It’s like magic…almost. I scan through my messages, a couple things I notice right away:

  1. Why does this guys profile picture contain females? Isn’t that counter productive?  If you’re already hugging on some other lady/ladies, i’m going to take a pass. No thanks, Rico Suave.
  2. Why in the fuck are all of your pictures group pictures? Do I really have to play detective to find the common person in every picture? Why are you already wasting my time?

So preliminary scan complete, let’s dive in to the messages. I have a tiny glimmer of hope! Maybe there’s something great in here! Maybe this time something fantastic will happen! Okay, okay but…surely there’s SOMETHING here. Right? Guess what?! There is. But it’s terrible.
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WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK GUYS.

Because people are generally idiots unfortunately there will always be a few messages like that. Fairly often you see them right off the bat so you don’t waste your time on any of those animals. Personally, i’m pretty selective in my screening process so if I have the SLIGHTEST inkling that’s where the conversation may head I won’t even bother responding. Sometimes someone slips through the cracks, they act semi normal until they don’t (SURPRISE!) and I get things like two of the messages you see above.

Here’s the thing, i’m on a dating site. You are on a dating site. Your profile says you are looking for a relationship. What happens in between the time you fill out your profile and send me a message? Do you feel like you’ll never speak to a female again so you need to throw your dick at any one who will speak to you? (Metaphorically speaking of course, that is a terrifying visual)

So, if i’m dating you (IF it’s going well) at some point I will sleep with you. That’s what happens. That’s how it works. So far every single message I have seen AND answered has been a guy trying to take a shortcut to that point. GUYS, listen to me: there are no shortcuts. Actually, there are – to the exit, when you write me messages like that.

 

And here…we…go

Online dating.

Let’s jump right in! I have so many friends and acquaintances who rave about how they met the “love of their life” or even “Mr. Right Now” on any number of internet dating sites. After a series of relationships gone wrong I decided, what the hell! Let’s give it a whirl, what could go wrong?!

Turns out? a whole lot. A whole lot could go wrong.

Now, i’m not talking earth shattering stuff here..but! My intention is to share some of these awkward, terrible, and downright hilarious experiences right here.

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