"I'm perfect."

Never did two words send such a horrid chill down my spine as those two did tonight.  "I'm perfect." 

Perfect for what?!  For yourself?  For the world?  For all of the throes of women batting down your door?  You've been single how long?  Oh, 8 years...yeah...well, chances are - YOU'RE NOT PERFECT!

And why exactly did I agree to go on a date with you?!

Yes - the date started out by the guy telling me he was perfect.  I actually tried to counter balance, asking him if he meant perfectly imperfect.  Nope.  He has his shit together, lives a wonderful life and is PERFECT.  And, here Mr. Perfect are the reasons you are not perfect, from a woman batty enough not to catch on to the warning signs beforehand: 

1. You have bad teeth...unless you live in England, that's not allowed. 
2. You have two earrings, and you wear hoops. 
3. You shoo'ed the waitress.
4. You walked out on your girlfriend without giving her a reason or a response.  (Interesting share, no?)
5. You couldn't read my body language AT ALL.
6. You couldn't remember something I had repeated twice.
7. You talked over me.
8. You were late.
9. You don't drink.  (Avoid people who don't drink!!!)
10. You told me that I was going to hell for saying that drinking a glass of wine with dinner is OK.
11. You insulted me no less than 5 times about my upbringing, my job choice, my lack of a formal education, my musical abilities and my choice of a hot chocolate over coffee.
12. You started arguing with me over my opinion of not wanting to have children until I was in a stable, committed relationship - or ever. 

I'm sure that if I spent more than 20 minutes with him, I could have more to add to the list - but after giving him several chances at redeeming himself, *I* decided that I didn't like his style of "perfect" and walked out.

I need a new list of questions to ask before meeting someone because something is getting lost in translation here....or I really am a huge loser magnet!

I thought that having a guy proof and make changes to my profile would magically make the dating...better.

Several weeks ago, I spied a hilarious interview that fellow blogger Sophie did with a gentleman named Arlequin.  I thought I would ask Arlequin for some help on my internet dating profile, since what I have on there didn't seem to be doing me much good.  We emailed back and forth.  I revealed my identity.  (Yikes!)  He, kindly gave me some genuine feedback which I gladly accepted.  I will say that I am not surprised that he thought I should change my picture to one that had my boobs on display!

After taking out some of my interests - "Who are you trying to attract, a woman?" - and spicing up the body of the profile with a "call to action," I unveiled the new profile for interested men.

It's hasn't done a lick of good!

My first date was with a guy who reminded me of a young John Lennon, minus the long hair.  We chatted for a couple of days and then he very spur of the moment asked if I was free one night - that he wanted to buy me dinner and drinks.  We chose a sports bar and met up.  During the entire date, he stared at me.  I totally didn't realize that I had entered a staring competition!  I tried to keep the mood light, cracking jokes and telling stories, but all he did was stare.  Finally, after our bill was settled I got up to leave, and he said "So...do you want to go back to your place and fuck?"

Um...no.  You are a creeper.  And who asks a woman that?! 

Funny part in that whole story is that my phone then decided that it should suggest that I should be friends with this guy on facebook, so after knowing only his first name I then got a glimpse into why he didn't reveal (and I didn't ask) what his last name is.  Tinkler.  As in, taking a tinkle.  The funniest part is that his first name is another word for the part that guys hold while taking a tinkle!  That pretty much explains why this kid has such problems.  He must have very hateful parents. 

Second date was with a guy who claimed to be a photographer at our local paper.  He showed up on our date with his wedding ring on display.  Super!  Hearing him explain his reasoning, after I called him out on it, (his wife left him 2 years ago and his daughter thinks it's his fault, so he still wears his ring for her) sent douche chills down my spine.  Luckily, I didn't have to make up an excuse to leave because we had planned this date around his son's wrestling match that night, so I knew I would only have to suffer for an hour.  He proceeded to take the ring off and put it in his pocket, even after I told him that he didn't have to - I mean, when you return home after your date, and you've lost your wedding ring, you will certainly be forced to eat shit. 

After saying "so long, have a great life" I continued to get emails from him into the wee hours of the morning that went unanswered on my end. 

The next day, around lunchtime I got this from him, and I quote..."Hey listen. I had a great time and your such a great girl. I now realize that I am not ready to move on at this point. I may never be. I am sorry but I can not date any one at this time. I need to work out many issues in my life and I can not get involved with anyone. Take care and good luck. Your a great catch. Don't settle for just any guy!"

I immediately replied with "Hard to date anyone when you have a wife at home." As soon as I clicked the send button, the email bounced back to me with a MAILER-DAEMON failure saying the email was inactive.  He then deleted his online profile.  That's a lot of hoops to jump through just to try to cheat on your wife.  You might as well just pay for a hooker.  I'm not even too upset that I was lied to and all that bullshit - I'm much more angry about the fact that he thinks that I may "settle for just any guy."  Dude, if that was the case then I'd probably be married with a bunch of kids right now, just like...ummm....YOU. 

Third time's a charm?  I'm totally using "air quotes" on this one, because it's hardly a "date" but for the sake of this "post," we'll just "call it that."  After the married guy, I started chatting with some other dude who was closer to my age and had all the superficial requirements that I look for - tall, dark, successful.  We spoke on the phone a couple of times and after a long day at work, he asked me to meet him out at Starbucks.  I didn't want to.  I hadn't showered that day and I really didn't feel like socializing, but he was persistent about wanting to meet me, so I quickly showered, got my act together and put on a happy face.  He was waiting in his car (a Lexus) when I got there and got out to greet me in the parking lot.

The exchange went a little something like this:
Me: Hi xxx!  Nice to meet you.
Him: You too...it's so great to now have a face to put with a name.
Me: So, do you want to go inside and get a coffee?
Him: I can not drink another cup of coffee today.
Me: (in my head) So, why the fuck did you ask me to come out tonight and waste my time?!
Him: I just wanted to see your face.
Me: OK then.  I'm going to head home.
Him: Maybe we can get together on Tuesday and go out for a nice dinner.
Me: Yeah, we'll see.
Him: It was really nice to meet you.
Me: Yup.

I got back into my car, a mere 60 seconds later and drove home.  No more than 3 minutes passed when I got a text from him asking if I wanted to come over his house to watch a movie.  I declined.  He responded that he thought I was pretty, but he didn't want to invest any more time in chatting without seeing if I actually represented myself correctly. 

I get it.  I really do.  I remember how I felt when I met that guy who misrepresented himself so severely that I almost threw up in my mouth.  But, if I passed your little attractiveness test, then you should have just agreed to go inside the coffee shop for a few moments to get to know me a little better!  Instead, you were looking for some kind of messed up booty call. 

As much as I would like to say that I am done with internet dating, I still have the hope that someone will come into my life and surprise the hell out of me.  Until then, I have two words that keep me going...BLOG FODDER. 

Oh, and I changed my profile again to reflect more about me and my personality since trying it Arlequin's way was a huge fail.  :)

I hate to tell you this, but...you're gay

Some people are just way cooler when they can hide their physical being behind a clouded cyber world portal.   Case in point, a date I had way back in July.  (Yup, I'm on a bit of a dry spell so I'm pulling from the archieves.)  A man who I've been chatting via text with for about 5 weeks prior.  Traveling is a large part of his job, and with my busy social schedule, there had not been much opportunity for a face to face meeting.

He did not post a picture and said that he didn't give photos out free-nilly because of his job.  (Is he a fucking SPY?!)  Is your bullshit meter going off yet because mine certainly was!  He didn't want to send a picture along because he said a coworker found out the last time he tried internet dating and passed his profile along, but he was more than willing to describe himself to me, and I quote..."I'm definitely not an ugly guy.  In fact, I've been told that I'm incredibly good looking.  I have sandy hair, blue eyes, a strong jaw, I'm tall and athletic.  People say that I look like a movie star, but they can never remember which one.  I think you'll have no problem being attracted to me."

Oh, really? We'll see.  I don't know about you, but when I am forced to describe myself to someone, I am way more humble in my description.

I'm sure there will be a collective gasp from across the globe when I reveal that the date was a bust.

I've never met someone who thought so highly of himself so much that you could smell the insecurity coming out of his pores. 

My gaydar was also going bonkers about 5 minutes into the date when he mentioned that he doesn't go to a very popular local bar because "it's frequented by a bunch of fags."  Or, so he was told by his bodybuilder roommate.  (Why did he have to tell me that he was a bodybuilder?  Roommate would've been more than sufficient.  And, you're 36 years old with a full time job!  Why do you need or want a roommate?!)  Dude, we play for the same team!  And, I bet I'm way more successful.  Throughout the date, he continued to talk about gay-this and gay-that and I finally looked him square in the eye and said "I think you need to come to terms with your sexuality.  Straight men who are on a date with a chick don't talk about gays.  They just don't.  It was lovely meeting you.  I wish you the very best in your search."  Then, I got the hell out of there.

As far as the celebrity he said he resembles, I was trying to rack my brain for someone with as many poc marks as he had.  It finally dawned on me.  Dennis Stewart, who played "Leo" aka "Craterface" in Grease.  He was the guy who raced John Travolta in the Thunderbird.

UG-LY.

Sorry, no longer believe the story about your coworker ratting on you.  You don't upload pictures because you're fucking ugly. 

The biggest ASSHOLE move I've ever experienced

If you go out with a guy, have a great time, make out with him in his car in the parking lot and accidently leave your necklace in said car...don't be surprised that when you ask him to send it to you (after not hearing from him since that night), that a postcard arrives from the United States Postal Service telling you they have your envelope and need $1.14. 

SERIOUSLY DUDE?! 

You couldn't pick up the dollar and change postage? 

I so need the interwebs to help me with a response to send to him. 

Hands are important to me

I am astonished at the variety of different types of hands there are on this planet.  Weird, right?  Well, looking back into my dating vault, I've rejected a couple of dates based on the size and shape of their hands and digits.

Shallow, much?

Well...yes.  But, how are you supposed to envision yourself being romantic with someone if the thought of their minuscule hands being on your body makes you want to vomit?  You can't.  It's impossible.  This may rank up there as being as ridiculous as the guy who detests public hair, it's one of my personal deal breakers.  You can't have chick hands, and you must have all of your fingers.  Period. 

So, it's interesting and funny in a non-haha way (at the time) that I have gone on dates with guys who have had chick hands, and didn't have all their fingers. 

A man's hands should be strong.  They should hold a firm hand shake.  They should be bigger than mine.  A callus or two certainly doesn't hurt in my book, but you know, please keep them from scraping the floor when you stand upright.  They should not be moisturized or manicured or any of that shit!

I went out with a dude that was incredibly good looking, in a very rugged way.  We met for dinner at a local pub, and it didn't matter that he was employed, smart and put together - his hands were the size of the guy in the BK Jr. Whopper commercial!  Not only were they tiny, but his fingernails were practically non-existent.  I almost thought that they were a transplant, but he was wearing short sleeves and had no scars to confirm otherwise.  (You bet your ass I checked.)  He had to pick up his half-sandwich panini with two hands.  Suddenly, his charm and wit were lost on me. 

Do these make you horny?

I met up with a guy for happy hour and 10 cent chicken wings.  Yes, it was a cheap date - but I'm not a gold digger that's all about the benjamins!  I was actually looking forward to being casual and messy and ultimately being silly in front of a guy when inevitable he'd tell me that I somehow had hot sauce smeared across my forehead.  (How does that happen?!  I use napkins!) 

We ordered a couple of beers and talked for a bit before our wings arrived, hot and fresh from the fryer.  I ate two before I saw this guy licking wing sauce off his HALF A THUMB!  Gross man.  Don't you think if you had half a thumb, you might prepare your date - either with a kick ass story about how it happened, or some kind of pre-meeting explanation?  I know I certainly wouldn't sit there licking it over and over, like it was some kind of baby penis you were giving head to.  Of course, the thumb licker was also a douchebag, so throwing $10 bucks on the table to cover my $4 bill was incredibly generous of me...when I decided to get the fucking hell out of there with an excuse of having to feed my dog. 

I hate that I now have to add "Take a look at your hands...do they belong on your arms?" as one of the pre-screening questions I have to ask potential suitors, along with "Are you married?" and "Do you have a criminal record?"

Can we just date via text message?

It always amazes me how incredibly wrong I can be about someone.  Take Friday's date for instance.  This guy was everything I wanted on paper - tall, intelligent, funny, athletic, gentlemanly and good looking...a country boy from South Carolina, recently transplanted in my town for work.  Our texting relationship was filled with funny antidotes that would made me giggle and yearn for more. 

And, then I met him.

I received a follow up email on Sunday afternoon. He wanted to let me know that he had a lot of fun (HUH?) and asked me if I'd like to go on another date this Friday (WHAT?!). 

My firm, no-nonsense reply - something I'm getting quite good at - and some insight on what happened to turn me off to this person so completely:

I'm actually kind of surprised to hear from you.

I'm going to be honest, because I feel like you deserve that. I was really looking forward to meeting you. You seemed like a really nice, intelligent and fun guy. I was disappointed in the 'date.' I guess I expected that for a couple of hours I would have your attention so we could get to know each other. You didn't offer much up, was drunk before I even go there, and I felt like I was talking to myself because you were constantly playing with your phone and destroying the table.

I thought it was weird that 3 of your buddies came out...but even weirder yet when I came back from  dropping my food off at my car and using the bathroom that everyone had a drink and you failed to order one for me. It was nice that everyone who showed up was nice and included me in the conversation, because you payed absolutely no attention to me otherwise. The deal breaker was when you very loudly said 'whoa...nice boobs' when another girl walked out if the bathroom in front of us, so you obviously didn't take the date too seriously.

I thank you for dinner, but I don't think we would make a good match.

 

(Insert a heavy dose of sarcasm.) Doesn't that date sound absolutely amazing?!  Can I just explain that I was so excited about this date that I got home from work, showered and changed outfits about 20 times?  I wanted to make a great first impression.  Silly Miz Adventures!    

 

He responded by apologizing for being a prick.  (His word, not mine, although it does fit nicely.)  

 

No, I realize I was a prick. I really am sorry about that. To be honest, we're probably just at two different places. I have a lot of growing up to do and it's been a slow process.  Again, I'm sorry and I do want you to know that I think you're a really smart, funny and attractive young lady.  Someone will be very lucky to snag you as their own.

 

Do I feel bad after a lovely and well deserved apology?  No.  He was a total prick from the get-go.  A complete 180 from the person I was getting to know via text/email, whom I really, really liked.  It's a shame really because you wonder what the true personality is.  

G-O-O-G-L-E

"Research me, you'll find me...click those keys and google me."

I've been googled!  I must say, it is very unsettling to go out on a date with someone and have them bring up things you know you haven't shared with them because they googled your name, or found your profile on Facebook. 

Now, don't get me wrong - I've googled many a first date.  But, I don't get all stalker'ish and bring up any of my findings or pretend that I know them as well as I know my best friend because I saw some college pictures of them in a random newspaper story on-line!  What made it even creepier is that this particular person found another blog I write, went through the entire thing (I started it in 2007) and gave me a handwritten page of grammatical, spelling and punctuation corrections that he said he "noticed."  I've never felt the need to bounce out of a bar so quickly -- and I might actually have to give up that bar now because he revealed that he frequents the place often and has actually seen me on dates. 

That sucks.

I wonder what kind of upbringing someone experienced to be such a weirdo?  Although I didn't ask...I'd put money on the fact that this guy probably lives in his mother's basement and kills cats. 

Good Lord

"I-I-I-I-I-Iiiiii'm a saaaaaa-lesman for a lo, lo, local technical c-c-c-c-ompany, like that.  I have a, a, a, a, a, nephew, like that.  He's four, like that.  I'dddddd li-li-like kids some d-d-d-daaaaaay, like that."

Date night...with a stutterer who also has a weird verbal tick. 

Seriously?  Do I even have to type the whole experience out?  You get it, right?  One of the hardest first (and only) dates I have ever been on.