Which creeper you ask?
I know. There's been quite a few. I'm specifically speaking about the one last week - whom I was excited about meeting, then met and actually felt bad about the way things turned out. I may have cried, if I remember correctly. I know I went home feeling like a big pile of flaming dog shit.
Last night, as I was killing time and multi-tasking, I came across a profile I had not seen before.
The skies opened up, my eyes got big, I let out a huge sigh of relief and followed with a long drawn out chuckle. Although I did not necessarily dodge a bullet - because, after all I still had the pleasure of meeting the kid - I did have the gumption to leave before anything bad happened to myself or my wallet. It sounds as though others did not.
Behold the words of the vigilante*:
For those of you ladies who have had the pleasure (I mean heartache) of dating/meeting/chatting with MD198333, mrromantic0903, or now mr. romantic (aka Tim), he just changed his name, then please be aware that he is a con. He dates multiple women and doesnt use protection...if you know what I mean. His profile is false and he is nothing he claims to be. I am only here to warn as many girls that would like to be warned. If you choose to get ahold of him then good luck to you cuz he will womanize you. I am only looking out for others so they don't have to put up with his lies. But when you find out the truth, please don't say you weren't warned. Please be careful as he is also jealous, insecure and has a temper at times.
Just in case he happens to change his screen name again, his real name is Tim and he claims he is a Dr/PA/orthopedic surgeon...but he's definitely not. If you meet up with him his wallet will somehow be "lost" or his ATM accounts will be "frozen" and will not have money. He is NOT a millionaire! He will also be quick to try to kiss you or get physically involved...most likely by going to a park. I've also been informed that he also has been on craigslist, cupid.com and possibly other dating sites.
I use this blog as a means to keep myself entertained on these dates I subject myself to. I have to admit that I love the idea of someone creating a fake profile (as a man, so the women will be the ones to see it), and letting out this guys dirty laundry! Why had no one thought of this before?! It really could've saved me a load of time and effort. LOL. Although, then there would be no juicy stories to pass on.
I did reply to the person and told him/her of my experience and commended them on thinking of this form of communication to stop a predator. I have received no answer yet.
*In my head, I want to think that the owner of the fake profile is this guys best friend who is looking out for the female population as a whole, because he's disgusted at how this low-life treats the fairer sex. I may also imagine that he wears a superhero costume and has special powers, but truth of the matter is, it's probably just a woman scorned.
Thursday, December 15, 2011
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Real men don't eat "morsels"
I used to like morsels. Little chocolate drops of goodness in my cookies, patented by Nestle Toll House. Now, when I hear the word, a chill goes down my spine and gives me the willies - and all because I once went on a couple of dates with a guy who refused to eat normal sized meals. It was just weird.
For the record, I know that's a pretty shitty reason not to pursue a relationship with someone. The actual excuse I gave was his clingy'ness was overwhelming - which it was - but his appetite of a bird was the true reason for the separation. If there is one thing I know about my rules of attraction, is that I like manly men. Manly men don't eat bite sized meals, just like they don't eat quiche...they scarf down 20 oz. steaks! If I'm cooking for a man, I want him to eat my food with gusto and help himself to seconds, not pick at the plate like a little girl.
We chatted for a while before meeting. This was way before I was suckered into creating a profile on-line. I was scoping out the awesome men on the Craigslist Personals. (Which honestly, in my experience is creepy, but did produce better dates than the ones I met on an actual "dating site.") He was a genuinely nice guy - new to the area, a professional photographer specializing in naturalist art. He asked me out for dinner to a lovely Thai place and thus is started.
I was famished when I arrived for the date and really excited to try their pad thai, which is one of my favorite dishes. Even now, my mouth is watering just typing about it! I glanced at the menu, but I knew what I had my heart set on, so when the waitress came over to take our order, I didn't hesitate at all. Of course, this is also when I learned that you should discuss your food choice with your date. I excitedly ordered the pad thai, extra spicy, and he ordered an appetizer.
The thought and worry that went through my mind at that time were a little "female crazy." Did I misunderstand him when he said he wanted to go to dinner? Did I unknowingly order the most expensive thing on the menu? Why isn't he eating? Did he already peg me for someone he wasn't interested in, so he ordered something small so that he could get out the date fast? Can he not afford this place? I'm going to be eating in front of him while he sits and watches me! I should've ordered something small too, because now I feel like I'm going to owe him! God, he thinks I'm a fatso. I know...I'll just eat half and take the rest to go - - or offer to share. Ahhh....what if he pulls that move that you see in movies where the guy feeds the girl? That's so stupid. Fuck that! If he wants to eat off my plate without swapping spit first, I'm outta here. Oh god, my stomach just growled. Wait! Here comes my food!
Yup. That was pretty much the internal monologue I had.
And true to form, he finished his 3 dumplings first, and I ate in front of him for the next 15 minutes.
After our plates were collected (and my leftovers put into a handy container for me to take home), I asked him why he didn't order a meal.
"I like small morsels of food."
Honestly, I didn't know where to go from there. Obviously, the men I've dated or had relationships in the past were great big food loving hogs - and I appreciated that. This whole thing was so new to me, and not new in a good way. The date ended casually, he walked me to my car and gave me a big hug before we parted ways. I immediately texted a friend who was out with a couple of girlfriends - and met them out for a nightcap.
"Guys...he eats morsels. What the fuck are morsels? That's just weird."
"Stop finding the perceived negative in people and just give him a chance for fuck's sake. You are being way to shallow."
That's my girl...always ready to kick my ass the way real friends do.
Mr. Morsel didn't wait until the pre-requisite 3 days to call me again. I heard from him the next day, asking me out again for the next weekend. I swallowed my shallowness and said yes, thinking I can play this game and eat small bites too. Funny thing, he suggested a fancier place with a well known chef who is known for their small bites - mainly a dish made of pork belly. (Yum. I've only heard rumors of this pork belly dish and now was excited about my own morsel experience!)
Second date was good and lasted for hours. Plates of morsels littered our table as we both picked at the spread before us. This date ended with a kiss, which was very nice. It happened in the street between our cars and actually caused a pedestrian to whistle and proclaim that it was inspiring to see two people in love. Ummm...
The getting to know you phase lasted another couple of weeks, followed by a dinner at my house, which I painstakingly prepared and filled with, you guessed it, small morsels. That's when I realized that I hated cooking in that way and the constant state of cling'dom came on full force. This was not going to work.
And really, it wasn't him...it was me. Some people have their quirks and although his as such a small drop in the bucket, I couldn't deal with it. Food is so sensual, and the preparation of food in particular. It's a way for me to show my desire for someone - and in this entire dating cycle, he is the only one I've ever prepared a "meal" for...and it sadly, just didn't work for me.
Truth be told, there is someone out there that will snatch him up in a heartbeat. That someone just wasn't me.
For the record, I know that's a pretty shitty reason not to pursue a relationship with someone. The actual excuse I gave was his clingy'ness was overwhelming - which it was - but his appetite of a bird was the true reason for the separation. If there is one thing I know about my rules of attraction, is that I like manly men. Manly men don't eat bite sized meals, just like they don't eat quiche...they scarf down 20 oz. steaks! If I'm cooking for a man, I want him to eat my food with gusto and help himself to seconds, not pick at the plate like a little girl.
We chatted for a while before meeting. This was way before I was suckered into creating a profile on-line. I was scoping out the awesome men on the Craigslist Personals. (Which honestly, in my experience is creepy, but did produce better dates than the ones I met on an actual "dating site.") He was a genuinely nice guy - new to the area, a professional photographer specializing in naturalist art. He asked me out for dinner to a lovely Thai place and thus is started.
I was famished when I arrived for the date and really excited to try their pad thai, which is one of my favorite dishes. Even now, my mouth is watering just typing about it! I glanced at the menu, but I knew what I had my heart set on, so when the waitress came over to take our order, I didn't hesitate at all. Of course, this is also when I learned that you should discuss your food choice with your date. I excitedly ordered the pad thai, extra spicy, and he ordered an appetizer.
The thought and worry that went through my mind at that time were a little "female crazy." Did I misunderstand him when he said he wanted to go to dinner? Did I unknowingly order the most expensive thing on the menu? Why isn't he eating? Did he already peg me for someone he wasn't interested in, so he ordered something small so that he could get out the date fast? Can he not afford this place? I'm going to be eating in front of him while he sits and watches me! I should've ordered something small too, because now I feel like I'm going to owe him! God, he thinks I'm a fatso. I know...I'll just eat half and take the rest to go - - or offer to share. Ahhh....what if he pulls that move that you see in movies where the guy feeds the girl? That's so stupid. Fuck that! If he wants to eat off my plate without swapping spit first, I'm outta here. Oh god, my stomach just growled. Wait! Here comes my food!
Yup. That was pretty much the internal monologue I had.
And true to form, he finished his 3 dumplings first, and I ate in front of him for the next 15 minutes.
After our plates were collected (and my leftovers put into a handy container for me to take home), I asked him why he didn't order a meal.
"I like small morsels of food."
Honestly, I didn't know where to go from there. Obviously, the men I've dated or had relationships in the past were great big food loving hogs - and I appreciated that. This whole thing was so new to me, and not new in a good way. The date ended casually, he walked me to my car and gave me a big hug before we parted ways. I immediately texted a friend who was out with a couple of girlfriends - and met them out for a nightcap.
"Guys...he eats morsels. What the fuck are morsels? That's just weird."
"Stop finding the perceived negative in people and just give him a chance for fuck's sake. You are being way to shallow."
That's my girl...always ready to kick my ass the way real friends do.
Mr. Morsel didn't wait until the pre-requisite 3 days to call me again. I heard from him the next day, asking me out again for the next weekend. I swallowed my shallowness and said yes, thinking I can play this game and eat small bites too. Funny thing, he suggested a fancier place with a well known chef who is known for their small bites - mainly a dish made of pork belly. (Yum. I've only heard rumors of this pork belly dish and now was excited about my own morsel experience!)
Second date was good and lasted for hours. Plates of morsels littered our table as we both picked at the spread before us. This date ended with a kiss, which was very nice. It happened in the street between our cars and actually caused a pedestrian to whistle and proclaim that it was inspiring to see two people in love. Ummm...
The getting to know you phase lasted another couple of weeks, followed by a dinner at my house, which I painstakingly prepared and filled with, you guessed it, small morsels. That's when I realized that I hated cooking in that way and the constant state of cling'dom came on full force. This was not going to work.
And really, it wasn't him...it was me. Some people have their quirks and although his as such a small drop in the bucket, I couldn't deal with it. Food is so sensual, and the preparation of food in particular. It's a way for me to show my desire for someone - and in this entire dating cycle, he is the only one I've ever prepared a "meal" for...and it sadly, just didn't work for me.
Truth be told, there is someone out there that will snatch him up in a heartbeat. That someone just wasn't me.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
My 'picker' is off
I am a certified loser magnet.
I could probably end this post right there and not continue to dwell on what happened last night, but for the sake of this blog and any other loser magnet that may stumble across these ramblings, I will write it all out.
I went on my date last night with this guy, you know...the guy I claimed to have high hopes for? And, I did. Yes, there was the age difference, but at this point in the game, it really didn't matter to me that much. We spend a good chunk of time on the phone over the last couple of days talking about the usual stuff. He "passed" all of my pre-date requirements. He has obviously played this game before because I was fooled.
The date was his to plan. Being new to the area himself, I was very interested to see what he would come up with - and gave him a couple of ideas to help him along. (ex: coffee at this really cool little place.) Later in the day, he said to meet him in the parking lot outside of the movie theaters and we'd go from there. Oooooo....mysterious!
Sitting through my committee meeting was torture! I kept looking at the clock. Luckily, I was the one running it, so I was able to keep everyone else on track and got out of there with minutes to spare. On my way to the rendezvous, I got a text from him saying "So, I was thinking we could go to your house if we hit it off." Ummm....no. I explained that I wanted to have a first meeting in public and was looking forward to getting to know him. I pulled into the parking lot, found him and walked over to his car. I sat down, and it went positively downhill from there.
The conversation went as follows:
Me: Hi, xxx. Nice to finally meet you.
Him: Can I kiss you?
Me: Ummm...I guess. (Thinking it would be a swift peck on the cheek.)
*insert tongue down my throat here*
Me: (pulling myself out of his grasp) I wasn't expecting that exactly.
Him: I really like you.
Me: So, what have you got planned for us?
Him: Let's go back to your place.
Me: I already told you that I'm not going to do that. Why don't we go have a beer?
Him: I have to insert a heart cath into a patient in the morning, so I'm not drinking tonight.
Me: Oh, ok. That's fine. How about a cup of coffee?
Him: I don't drink caffeine at night.
Me: Did you eat dinner yet? (Fair question...I had not, being stuck in a meeting.)
Him: Yes. And, I'm not going to sit in a restaurant and watch you eat. I also think it's boring to just sit and talk. I want to do something.
Me: How about bowling?
Him: How about we just go back to your house?
Me: No. I'm firm on that, so please respect my wishes to not bring a stranger back to my place. I would like to sit and talk to you and get to know you better. I've been on some pretty bad dates and I'm trying to learn from those dates.
Him: I think you're judging me for the bad dates you've been on.
Me: I may be, and I'm sorry. I just prefer not to be hurt.
Him: I think that we just chalk this meeting up to being two different people who want different things.
Me: OK. So, I guess I'll just leave then. You've already made up your mind that since I won't invite you over tonight, that you'd rather not get to know me.
Him: We can just go back to your place.
*I start digging for my keys in my bag*
Me: I'm terribly sorry if you felt you wasted your time. If you get home and think these past ten minutes over and you'd like to actually go and do something fun to get to know each other - I'm free on Friday night.
Him: I already told you my life story. You know all about me.
Me: No I don't. You can't learn about people in a couple of phone conversations. And, it would've been nice for you to try to learn more about me. Take care.
So - I get out of his grasp and start to walk back to my car. What I hadn't noticed in the time I was in his car, is that it started to rain. Without looking back, I can hear that he put his car into drive and was pulling out. He left the parking lot before I even unlocked my car.
His self proclaimed "maturity" went out the window. This kid was a fool. I was a fool. And, what makes it more scary for me is that he was getting so aggressive - pulling my arm and locking the door - I was a little concerned for my well being. That's a fucking HORRIBLE feeling, let me tell you. And one reason I insist upon meeting in a public place. If I had known that the conversation was going to go down in that way, I would've never gotten out of my car.
Driving home, I got really angry...at myself mostly. It seems as though every guy I get excited about, let's me down. Is the cure to that becoming totally jaded? How fair is it to go on a first date with someone and not at least try. Lord knows I've been on some lousy dates, but to my credit I do really try to engage and be funny, even if I'm not feeling the person. (Unless, you're him...then all bets are off.) Was this just some kind of big elaborate plan just to get me into bed - be super nice for several days so my guard is down, because you are so great that I will automatically drop my panties within 5 minutes of actually meeting you?!
I called my friend for a little feminine therapy, because sometimes it's nice to hear other people swear and make fun of people they don't know. I then asked the age old question from most singles - "Why don't you and your husband have any cute single guy friends? Can you get on that please?" Needless to say, that then sparked a whole facebook friend overhaul and now the quest is on to find a non-creeper for their friend Miz Adventures.
God help us.
I could probably end this post right there and not continue to dwell on what happened last night, but for the sake of this blog and any other loser magnet that may stumble across these ramblings, I will write it all out.
I went on my date last night with this guy, you know...the guy I claimed to have high hopes for? And, I did. Yes, there was the age difference, but at this point in the game, it really didn't matter to me that much. We spend a good chunk of time on the phone over the last couple of days talking about the usual stuff. He "passed" all of my pre-date requirements. He has obviously played this game before because I was fooled.
The date was his to plan. Being new to the area himself, I was very interested to see what he would come up with - and gave him a couple of ideas to help him along. (ex: coffee at this really cool little place.) Later in the day, he said to meet him in the parking lot outside of the movie theaters and we'd go from there. Oooooo....mysterious!
Sitting through my committee meeting was torture! I kept looking at the clock. Luckily, I was the one running it, so I was able to keep everyone else on track and got out of there with minutes to spare. On my way to the rendezvous, I got a text from him saying "So, I was thinking we could go to your house if we hit it off." Ummm....no. I explained that I wanted to have a first meeting in public and was looking forward to getting to know him. I pulled into the parking lot, found him and walked over to his car. I sat down, and it went positively downhill from there.
The conversation went as follows:
Me: Hi, xxx. Nice to finally meet you.
Him: Can I kiss you?
Me: Ummm...I guess. (Thinking it would be a swift peck on the cheek.)
*insert tongue down my throat here*
Me: (pulling myself out of his grasp) I wasn't expecting that exactly.
Him: I really like you.
Me: So, what have you got planned for us?
Him: Let's go back to your place.
Me: I already told you that I'm not going to do that. Why don't we go have a beer?
Him: I have to insert a heart cath into a patient in the morning, so I'm not drinking tonight.
Me: Oh, ok. That's fine. How about a cup of coffee?
Him: I don't drink caffeine at night.
Me: Did you eat dinner yet? (Fair question...I had not, being stuck in a meeting.)
Him: Yes. And, I'm not going to sit in a restaurant and watch you eat. I also think it's boring to just sit and talk. I want to do something.
Me: How about bowling?
Him: How about we just go back to your house?
Me: No. I'm firm on that, so please respect my wishes to not bring a stranger back to my place. I would like to sit and talk to you and get to know you better. I've been on some pretty bad dates and I'm trying to learn from those dates.
Him: I think you're judging me for the bad dates you've been on.
Me: I may be, and I'm sorry. I just prefer not to be hurt.
Him: I think that we just chalk this meeting up to being two different people who want different things.
Me: OK. So, I guess I'll just leave then. You've already made up your mind that since I won't invite you over tonight, that you'd rather not get to know me.
Him: We can just go back to your place.
*I start digging for my keys in my bag*
Me: I'm terribly sorry if you felt you wasted your time. If you get home and think these past ten minutes over and you'd like to actually go and do something fun to get to know each other - I'm free on Friday night.
Him: I already told you my life story. You know all about me.
Me: No I don't. You can't learn about people in a couple of phone conversations. And, it would've been nice for you to try to learn more about me. Take care.
So - I get out of his grasp and start to walk back to my car. What I hadn't noticed in the time I was in his car, is that it started to rain. Without looking back, I can hear that he put his car into drive and was pulling out. He left the parking lot before I even unlocked my car.
His self proclaimed "maturity" went out the window. This kid was a fool. I was a fool. And, what makes it more scary for me is that he was getting so aggressive - pulling my arm and locking the door - I was a little concerned for my well being. That's a fucking HORRIBLE feeling, let me tell you. And one reason I insist upon meeting in a public place. If I had known that the conversation was going to go down in that way, I would've never gotten out of my car.
Driving home, I got really angry...at myself mostly. It seems as though every guy I get excited about, let's me down. Is the cure to that becoming totally jaded? How fair is it to go on a first date with someone and not at least try. Lord knows I've been on some lousy dates, but to my credit I do really try to engage and be funny, even if I'm not feeling the person. (Unless, you're him...then all bets are off.) Was this just some kind of big elaborate plan just to get me into bed - be super nice for several days so my guard is down, because you are so great that I will automatically drop my panties within 5 minutes of actually meeting you?!
I called my friend for a little feminine therapy, because sometimes it's nice to hear other people swear and make fun of people they don't know. I then asked the age old question from most singles - "Why don't you and your husband have any cute single guy friends? Can you get on that please?" Needless to say, that then sparked a whole facebook friend overhaul and now the quest is on to find a non-creeper for their friend Miz Adventures.
God help us.
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
High hopes for date night
I have another first date tonight. I'm trying to remain optomistic, but it really is getting a little...old. I admit it, I'm jaded. Completely and utterly jaded. I'm trying so desperately not to imagine all of the bad things I know I will find in this guy - starting with his tender young age. (Why I am attracted to guys 10 years my junior when I *know* this will not work out?! And, why for the love of all things holy, are they attracted to me?!)
Pro's:
He's tall.
Has a good job.
2 degrees - both in the science field, so he's intelligent.
He spells everything correctly.
He has man hands.
He volunteered in Africa building schools, so he knows how to use those man hands.
He has amazing green eyes.
He made me laugh.
He kept my attention on the phone, and offered up details about his family without hesitation.
He's a transplant to this area, so that opens a ton of new adventure.
He lives alone.
He complimented me on my own language skills and said I had a sexy voice.
He likes sports.
Con's:
His age. He's 26. I'm not.
His parents died when he was young, and he's an only child. Not a happy childhood.
He seems a little too excited to meet me. (This is scary.)
He had two degrees by the time he was 19.
He has three bullet wounds from doing medic work in Afganistan with the military.
The age thing has been acknowledged by both of us. It's not that big of a deal for me now, but I can see it being one if things work out. For him, he said that he's always gravitated towards older women because he's experienced so much in life thus far, that he has nothing in common with women his own age. In speaking with him, he is on the more mature side...but he looks like a baby!
Hmmmm...I should probably just chill out and go with the flow, right? Right.
Pro's:
He's tall.
Has a good job.
2 degrees - both in the science field, so he's intelligent.
He spells everything correctly.
He has man hands.
He volunteered in Africa building schools, so he knows how to use those man hands.
He has amazing green eyes.
He made me laugh.
He kept my attention on the phone, and offered up details about his family without hesitation.
He's a transplant to this area, so that opens a ton of new adventure.
He lives alone.
He complimented me on my own language skills and said I had a sexy voice.
He likes sports.
Con's:
His age. He's 26. I'm not.
His parents died when he was young, and he's an only child. Not a happy childhood.
He seems a little too excited to meet me. (This is scary.)
He had two degrees by the time he was 19.
He has three bullet wounds from doing medic work in Afganistan with the military.
The age thing has been acknowledged by both of us. It's not that big of a deal for me now, but I can see it being one if things work out. For him, he said that he's always gravitated towards older women because he's experienced so much in life thus far, that he has nothing in common with women his own age. In speaking with him, he is on the more mature side...but he looks like a baby!
Hmmmm...I should probably just chill out and go with the flow, right? Right.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
An update from dates past...
Men have come and gone, but some are like fruit flies - resilient little boogers that will WILL NOT go away. And, I seem to be the sickingly sweet nectar they are attracted to. HA!
The Pube Nazi. Our first, and only real-life meeting was in June, not long after I started into the realm of on-line dating. He texted me again shortly after telling me that we weren't a match because of my chosen down-there hair style. Although I have not had the crazy, mind-blowing sex that I joked I would have with him...I still get little text messages from him at least once a week. I usually reply back with something cute or smart, just enough to keep him entertained. That hook I have into him must hurt by now.
Our last interaction was today:
Pube Nazi: I hope you had a great Thanksgiving. Maybe this week we can go out to dinner and you can see the new house.
Me: My holiday was lovely. Thank you for asking - that's so sweet. I still can't move from all of the food that went into my belly.
Pube Nazi: LOL. I can't eat that much.
Me: Why?! Are you on a diet?
Pube Nazi: Trying to keep my girlish figure.
Me: That is such a manly statement, I don't even have any kind of reply.
Pube Nazi: I know all the right things to say.
Indeed. I'll let the conversation fizzle out at that. I have no intention of seeing him again, but I'm (oddly) enjoying this game we seem to be playing. I must say though, he is one of the most strikingly good looking people I have ever laid eyes on, so it is kind of a shame.
The Fucktard. Oh Fucktard...you REALLY didn't play your cards right. The dual personality is such a turn off, as is the passive aggressive behavior that you've displayed recently. I did not let him help me move, even though I thought about it long and hard. Several weeks ago, he started stalking my profile, sending me ":)" and ";)" via the email system. Not much to respond to, buddy. So, I've ignored...I mean, if you can't put a sentence together - why should I be bothered? About a week ago I got this: "So, you obviously don't want me the way that I want you. I've tried so hard to get your attention and start over. Please contact me!" A-huh.
Mr. 1%. I thought I made it clear that I was not interested in your brand of Republican'ism? Stop. Please. Mr. 1% has updated me on all the new and "interesting" things in his daily life since our date. I have seen pictures of his Christmas tree, his favorite ornament and the new cocktail that he created...he also sent me descriptive texts about his Thanksgiving meal, his last workout and his plans for this evening (take out, beer and football). In none of those messages did he ask a single thing about myself. He just really, really digs himself!
One of these days, I will write about the Morsel Guy. He was a Craigslist find and recently started contacting me again - but he's being very subtle about it - so I'm letting that train wreck play out.
The Pube Nazi. Our first, and only real-life meeting was in June, not long after I started into the realm of on-line dating. He texted me again shortly after telling me that we weren't a match because of my chosen down-there hair style. Although I have not had the crazy, mind-blowing sex that I joked I would have with him...I still get little text messages from him at least once a week. I usually reply back with something cute or smart, just enough to keep him entertained. That hook I have into him must hurt by now.
Our last interaction was today:
Pube Nazi: I hope you had a great Thanksgiving. Maybe this week we can go out to dinner and you can see the new house.
Me: My holiday was lovely. Thank you for asking - that's so sweet. I still can't move from all of the food that went into my belly.
Pube Nazi: LOL. I can't eat that much.
Me: Why?! Are you on a diet?
Pube Nazi: Trying to keep my girlish figure.
Me: That is such a manly statement, I don't even have any kind of reply.
Pube Nazi: I know all the right things to say.
Indeed. I'll let the conversation fizzle out at that. I have no intention of seeing him again, but I'm (oddly) enjoying this game we seem to be playing. I must say though, he is one of the most strikingly good looking people I have ever laid eyes on, so it is kind of a shame.
The Fucktard. Oh Fucktard...you REALLY didn't play your cards right. The dual personality is such a turn off, as is the passive aggressive behavior that you've displayed recently. I did not let him help me move, even though I thought about it long and hard. Several weeks ago, he started stalking my profile, sending me ":)" and ";)" via the email system. Not much to respond to, buddy. So, I've ignored...I mean, if you can't put a sentence together - why should I be bothered? About a week ago I got this: "So, you obviously don't want me the way that I want you. I've tried so hard to get your attention and start over. Please contact me!" A-huh.
Mr. 1%. I thought I made it clear that I was not interested in your brand of Republican'ism? Stop. Please. Mr. 1% has updated me on all the new and "interesting" things in his daily life since our date. I have seen pictures of his Christmas tree, his favorite ornament and the new cocktail that he created...he also sent me descriptive texts about his Thanksgiving meal, his last workout and his plans for this evening (take out, beer and football). In none of those messages did he ask a single thing about myself. He just really, really digs himself!
One of these days, I will write about the Morsel Guy. He was a Craigslist find and recently started contacting me again - but he's being very subtle about it - so I'm letting that train wreck play out.
Monday, November 21, 2011
"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!
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'm about ready to stereotype all finance guys...like I do accountants!
Over the last several months of dating, I've been out with a number of guys who work in "finance." Finance is such a loosely used term. I mean, it could mean banking (as in...I'm a teller!), or investments, financial planning, insurance and even real estate. In the realm of *my* dating, when I've met someone in finance, I usually get a guy who is not only full of himself, arrogant and rude, but also incredibly boring and sometimes a little creepy (referencing this post, date #1). It's very hard not to remind some people that everyone's shit stinks.
(I must say though...the one who slipped through my fingers was an investment broker. Its funny because life got in the way of us connecting. His friend committed suicide and he became very introverted afterwards - and it's such a shame, because I think about him from time to time. I may have just peeked at his facebook profile too. Shhhhh....don't tell.)
My last date with a guy in finance didn't go very well.
In fact, my eyes may still have that glassed over look to them because I feel like I'm still recovering.
He was late. STRIKE ONE. He lied about his height. STRIKE TWO. And, he proceeded to talk about himself, politics, the economy, health care and the 1%, and why they shouldn't have to pay taxes, for over an hour. STRIKE THREE!!! I'm not afraid of hot button issues, but wowza. About 10 minutes into the conversation, he very smugly asked me if I knew who "owned" the Federal Reserve - probably because he wanted to prove how smart he was. My response, as dead-panned as possible, was "The Federal Reserve is a private entity run by Ben Bernanki." Silence on his end followed by a "Yes. You're right."
Yeah. I know. I'm not the idiot that you thought I was...and if you tried speaking to me, you might actually see that. And yet, even with the outward change in my body language and the fact that I was staring at the clock, he still didn't let up on being a self-absorbed douchebag. At one point, the female bartender came over and put another blue moon in front of me. I looked at her questionably and whispered "I didn't order this." She replied with "I know honey. But you need it...and it's on me."
Rolling. On. The. Floor. Laughing!
After the hour-long monologue, Mr. Finance then got out of his seat, but his hand on my knee and asked me what I would think if he asked me back to his house.
"I thought we were on the same page when I was thinking that we weren't really feeling each other."
Then, the excuses started: he broke his own rule of talking more than he listened; he's a really nice guy if I just gave him a chance; he didn't want to push too fast...just a drink on the couch and no hanky-panky; girls need to relax a little and not judge every guy on the "relationship scale"; oh, I'm not saying you're basing your decision on the relationship scale; I think you're pretty and maybe we can go on another date...etc. Again, I didn't get to say a word during any of that portion of the date either. However I did get up, put my coat on and walk towards the door, with him at my heels. Are you sure you won't change your mind? I'm really great in bed. You won't be disappointed.
"You get to your car in safe manner. It was nice to meet you. Best of luck on your future endeavors."
The End. Or so I thought...unfortunately, he knows my number and how to text. A lot. What really sucks about the whole thing is that I met him at my favorite bar and now I'm afraid to go back there!
(I must say though...the one who slipped through my fingers was an investment broker. Its funny because life got in the way of us connecting. His friend committed suicide and he became very introverted afterwards - and it's such a shame, because I think about him from time to time. I may have just peeked at his facebook profile too. Shhhhh....don't tell.)
My last date with a guy in finance didn't go very well.
In fact, my eyes may still have that glassed over look to them because I feel like I'm still recovering.
He was late. STRIKE ONE. He lied about his height. STRIKE TWO. And, he proceeded to talk about himself, politics, the economy, health care and the 1%, and why they shouldn't have to pay taxes, for over an hour. STRIKE THREE!!! I'm not afraid of hot button issues, but wowza. About 10 minutes into the conversation, he very smugly asked me if I knew who "owned" the Federal Reserve - probably because he wanted to prove how smart he was. My response, as dead-panned as possible, was "The Federal Reserve is a private entity run by Ben Bernanki." Silence on his end followed by a "Yes. You're right."
Yeah. I know. I'm not the idiot that you thought I was...and if you tried speaking to me, you might actually see that. And yet, even with the outward change in my body language and the fact that I was staring at the clock, he still didn't let up on being a self-absorbed douchebag. At one point, the female bartender came over and put another blue moon in front of me. I looked at her questionably and whispered "I didn't order this." She replied with "I know honey. But you need it...and it's on me."
Rolling. On. The. Floor. Laughing!
After the hour-long monologue, Mr. Finance then got out of his seat, but his hand on my knee and asked me what I would think if he asked me back to his house.
"I thought we were on the same page when I was thinking that we weren't really feeling each other."
Then, the excuses started: he broke his own rule of talking more than he listened; he's a really nice guy if I just gave him a chance; he didn't want to push too fast...just a drink on the couch and no hanky-panky; girls need to relax a little and not judge every guy on the "relationship scale"; oh, I'm not saying you're basing your decision on the relationship scale; I think you're pretty and maybe we can go on another date...etc. Again, I didn't get to say a word during any of that portion of the date either. However I did get up, put my coat on and walk towards the door, with him at my heels. Are you sure you won't change your mind? I'm really great in bed. You won't be disappointed.
"You get to your car in safe manner. It was nice to meet you. Best of luck on your future endeavors."
The End. Or so I thought...unfortunately, he knows my number and how to text. A lot. What really sucks about the whole thing is that I met him at my favorite bar and now I'm afraid to go back there!
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