Friday, April 22, 2011

Dating Horror Stories: "The Prude Detector"

So, this might be an odd thing to put out for the world to see, but look, I've been single for almost 2 and a half years.

Let it be known, I enjoy my single freedom.  And I'm in no rush to jumpstart a relationship...but that said...

For the past couple months, I've been considering dating again.  Just considering--toying with the idea--thinking about it in passing.  So, because I don't really know where to start, I started with the only logical place: online dating*

*I've tried grocery stores, but the only time I ever see an attractive man are those times when I'm wearing dirty pajama pants, mismatched socks, and yesterday's makeup.  I take that as a sign that Mr. Right isn't going to be hanging out in Meijer's produce aisle.

Now, I'm not saying that the guys on these sites are ALL bad.   I'm sure there are really nice guys on there, unfortunately, my experience has been that I'm a magnet to the "WTF's" of this world.

So, I've decided to chronicle only the worst of the worst.  And I will begin our very first installment of "Dating Horror Stories" with a story I've titled: THE PRUDE DETECTOR

Please enjoy.

THE PRUDE DETECTOR
by Tiff

4/22/11

I'd been battling a migraine that was going on 36 hours and the last thing I wanted to do was get caught off guard in an online dating instant message session, but of course when I opened my computer there it was: A chat notification.




Yep. You read that right..."So do the shades match the carpet?"

I don't know what irked me more: the fact that he had the gall to ask me that, or the fact that he called curtains "shades"  No, it was the second one.  Because to me, shades are always just beige or white.  And no one cares if their shades match their carpet.  But their curtains?  Hell yes they do.  Anyways....



This is online dating, and I *did* mention in my profile that I have a juvenile sense of humor sometimes, so I thought I'd give him the benefit of the doubt.

I mean, maybe he thought he was the first person to ever ask me, a redhead, that question. (Which is reason enough for me to shut down the conversation...but alas, I let him keep talking...)


You can all see where this is going, right?

He's trying to gauge whether or not I'll bone him.

Gotta hand it to online dating for making it so easy to weed these guys out. I mean, they have no qualms about just putting it out there from behind the safety of a glowing computer screen.

Anyhow, he tried to say my "Kinky" and "Sex-Drive" calculations were "in the negative" according to the website's personality ranking system...

...which, I should add uses questions like, "Hey? Have you ever tasted man juice?" and "Is it considered cheating if a guy you like kisses another girl but you're not really together but you've been on dates and he he's borrowed your phone once to call his brother which obviously means he's into you, but then this broad comes along wearing a half-top, so he probably just couldn't control himself and it's really her fault anyways!"

So, yeah, not very scientific.

And also, my scores aren't negative...they're just far below the Website's Average. Which, as I told this weisenheimer, isn't saying much, now is it?


Remember, I had a migraine during this conversation, so my "I'll be nice" attitude was nowhere to be found. I was in full "I just don't give a f*ck" mode.

And no, I don't mind existential debates about sex and dating (especially not in the first 45 seconds of talking to someone -eyeroll-)

Bring it on, Assface...bring...it...on.

But then came my first favorite part...after I explained that I don't think there is anything wrong with casual sex, but that I'm not looking for that.  His ultimate response?  Priceless:


That's right..."Oh wow"

As if not sleeping with random people all the time is an odd thing to do. Holy hell.

Is this what's going on in the dating world? Really?

So, he wanted an existential dating and sex debate, huh? Well, he was about to get one...



Don't eff around with me. I have a what feels like a pick axe jabbing into my brain.

And for some reason, it made me a real wise ass.


And now I felt like I needed to see this conversation out until the end.  Part of me felt like all the laughing I was doing was helping my headache, and the other part of me just wanted to see what other bullshit I was about to read.

Like this flawless logic for example:


Really?

In other words:



To which he simply responded:




":)"  ????

  Really? 

I waited a moment.  There was that nice part of me that thought, "Hmm...I should just close the window."  Or maybe "I'll just nicely say, well, I'm off to bed, have a good night."

But no.  Inside that piercing, pulsating migraine in my head I swear lived a dragon.  A dragon of snarkiness.  A dragon of "Tell it like it is girl."  A dragon that was about to unleash its fury...

*Artist's Representation


And so after a short enough time that it didn't seem I had thought out my response, but long enough to leave him squirming, I replied. Not only did I reply, but at the very moment I hit send, I realized something:

I'd just grown a pair. A figurative pair, of course, but a pair I was proud of nonetheless.

Prude Detector me and have the gumption to say you were attracted after not giving a monkey turd about anything valid about me other than my sex drive? Really? Well...okay then, here's what I think of you, good sir!

And with that, the Dragon opened it's mouth and....

"If you would have started with something like, "I saw in your profile you were interested in [fill in the blank with whatever], what's that about?" instead of basically checking to see if I was into sex, I might have found you more attractive. :("


And with that, I closed the window, proud that for once, I told it like it was...

...even if it took a terrible headache dragon to make it happen.


THE END

2 comments:

  1. Thank goodness you respect yourself that makes you a great gate keeper for your future!!!
    I think your replies were right on!!!

    LOL the sex addict part is the bomb!!!

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  2. Oh the horror! Perhaps there is some merit in hanging around Meijer's produce aisle after all? I mean you could always open up with chitchat about broccoli or pineapples, might be more digestible.
    All things aside, he can't spell to save his life, so what kind of a date would he be?? A man who can't spell or cares not to is not going to care about the little things either. And little things, like typos, irritate, and irritation kills sex drive. So, you made a good call methinks :-)

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