Monday, November 3, 2008

Dating disasters by M. Leah.

Date 1: I met him on the Internet at one of those dating sites. I hate the fact that I have to turn to those. But in this busy world where I would still like to get laid and maybe find a partner, you have to suck it up.
This guy’s profile seemed great. I have a rule for on-line dating. You have to be strict, no pleasantries I might be suckered into at a bar. I will only look at profiles of college-educated people who are over 5’8” at least. I will look, but if I don’t think I could kiss you, let alone fuck you, why bother with the fake pleasantries of a person-to-person meet and greet.
So back to Date 1: He seemed nice enough, taller than 6 feet, well educated. He had a degree in writing and took a job with The Man to pay the bills. I had visions of us drinking red wine and talking about public intellectuals and literary theory, of course wearing black possibly in berets. Then we met. First impression not so bad, he was tall and not that bad looking. He had nervous small hands, but I can overlook that if he was a good conversationalist. Rule 1 of the first date: always have good posture; it’s the first thing people notice subconsciously. His was all wrong. He then orders something off the menu and complains about how he can’t handle too many flavors, spices upset his stomach. Ok, not good either. I will eat anything, at least once. And the spicier the better. I keep a bottle of Franks Hot Sauce on hand all the time; like those fat ladies who keep Ranch dressing in their bags. After telling me about his intestinal problems, he spends the entire conversation talking about his job, how he hates it, why he hates it, his boss and how he might get fired. I am your first date, not your mother; do not complain to me. Date ended, he e-mailed me an article he wrote, the one thing he has gotten published (I really shouldn’t judge, I have no publications, not even the internet, if you don’t count my self aggrandizing blog). But the writing was flat and overly metaphoric. Since I do not see myself ever getting naked with this guy, I move on.

Date 2: I will title him, the Iron Man. I met him out at a bar when we were both traveling, turned out we both live in the same town. He was very cute. Blonde, blue eyed well built. A little on the short side, but I could see myself making out with him so I said why not. We went on two dates, and then it ended. He was very nice, but that was it. No other side, just nice. He works out…for fun! Who are these people?!! Nice guy, but he might have been a Republican, and the older I get, the more set I am in my liberal commie Arugula eating elitist academic ways. I need someone with an edge. Like comic books, great! Had a drug problem that you got over, even better! (Example, The Boy once started a conversation with…”so I’ve been getting really into fascism lately..”) I need someone who can bring something more than a stable job and a nice personality to the table. I can also not get behind your workout ethic. I am inherently lazy and need someone who can appreciate that. I set him up with my friend Sally. I thought it would work. They both like the gym, they both enjoy being social and going out, but neither one of them has a super edge. Which is fine, not all people have to, or do, or want to.

Date 3: Another Internet doozy. If you are going on a first date, remember to look your best. That means, groom yourself. Do not go on a first date when you obviously need a haircut. This boy was very nice, yet again, kiss of death: nice. He had an abnormally large head, and his shaggy fluffy hair that needed cutting wasn’t diverting attention away from his large melon. He also said he didn’t want to go anywhere that had “weird” foods like Indian, because its “weird” and he doesn’t like it. Strike one. I love “weird” food. I love new tastes, and I especially love Indian food. It is not weird, it just uses spices that are not salt or McCormick blends. Nice enough, no spark. He was looking for stable and nice, I am looking for life long learners and adventurers. If you can’t be adventurous in your culinary choices, I do not expect you to be able to get out of your comfort zone in other areas. I want you to be ok when I make you crawl to me so I can hit you. If you cant be food adventurous, you will never be sex adventurous (well, maybe it’s a leap; but it’s one I made and one I realize I demand. Food, Sex and Life explorers)

Date 4: We will call him GI Joe. I don’t even know where to begin with this one. He seemed ok. Another Internet date, blech. Looks aside, I can’t even call this one nice. This one is pure asshole. We went to dinner, nice place; he doesn’t eat. He has been watching football and drinking and eating so he’s not hungry. Now I go to school for a living, I am a student for a job. You cannot regale me with stories about how you never went to class in undergrad or law school. I never went to class that often either in undergrad, but I am choosing school as a job, I don’t find it attractive and am kind of embarrassed by my lackluster college performance. I am a nerd for hire. I don’t hear anything from him for around 2 weeks, and then get this serious of text messages one Sunday night:

Text 1: Just had a thought about you
Me: I hope it was a good thought J
Text 2: very nice thoughts, I want you to come over for starters…
Text 3: I wanna dim the lights, lay you down and take all ur clothes off


Um, we do not have that sort of relationship. I didn’t even kiss you with tongue after our date, why would you think this is acceptable?


This just represents the trials and travails of a late 20s single woman trying to find sex and possibly love. It’s a hard world out there for the jaded 20-something who just wants to get fucked right and maybe some intimacy.

I did meet someone I did like, but he gets his own post, maybe even a starring role. ;)

1 comment:

unspeakable axe said...

I think it's the same for everyone. Don't let it get you down. There are tools on both sides of the dating scene.