Like a lot of single people, I’ve done the online dating thing. My friends love it because they get to hear all about the strange dates, emails and profiles I encounter.
I’ll start by sharing some of the odd messages I received and then sharing some of my more memorial dates,well, they’re really “meets” — as in a first meeting in person. My rule of thumb is to keep it short, sweet and with at least two exits.
Some commonalities that these men’s profile pictures have is that they are often taken from miles away, they’re wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, frequently they are topless and often they are holding a large fish they just caught. What I think most men don’t realize is that, unless we’re trapped on an island or on the show Survivor, women really don’t care about fishing or seeing you with a fish.
Their profile write-ups or messages are an English teacher’s nightmare — seriously, I know some teachers that would slit their wrists over the, I would say,”poor grammar”, but it’s really non-existent grammar. Nary a capital letter in site, nor a comma nor a period, yet strangely, a properly used semi-colon. WTF! While reading some of these emails or write-ups, I’ve literally thought, “If you were in front of me now, I would smack you with that damn fish!” I’m not demanding perfection, I know I’m not always right, but throw a comma in here and there and maybe a capital letter. Is that too much to ask?
Online you have a user name and then a place to put a status or a one-liner teaser. Mine was: Man Wanted: Bed warmer and other light duties. Pretty funny I thought. I’ve seen some funny ones guys have used, but then seen some weird ones.
User names and one-liners that make you go “hmm”
- Hay there
- **** off trashy girls!
- Old dogs, children and watermelon wine
- How’s your bin?
Here’s a little sampling of the types of messages I got online.
The Boy Next Door – NOT!
He looked nice and pleasant, but his short write up went something like this: I am looking for a woman to tie me and beat me. I really want to be dominated. (next paragraph) I enjoy biking, roller blading and long walks in the rain.
Smells like a pig farm
The profile picture could have come from the 30′s with all its grainy gloriousness, and was taken from 50 feet out. He was wearing jeans, a t-shirt and a baseball cap. I’m surprised there was no fish. In any case, I read the email he sent. Like some inner stream of consciousness, it floated on and on.
“Hello im (name removed) if youd like to meet a guy and go for a drive just past mission theres a mud run my brothers there big bad truck or a patio pub lunch today yah im a little older but youd get treeted like a lady and youd day will be fun if you really wanted to we could pull the boat out and go boating and also whats your name”
Something about the words “mud run” reminded me of Pickton. (Insert spine shivers here.)
Under the category of “they have a whole section for that”
- I’m enjoying the summer and am in the need of a casual meeting…
- Looking for company tonight?
- I’m in town from L.A. for the night …
- Then there was a guy who emailed me photos of his junk
Let’s get personal, personal, personal (sung to Olivia Newton John’s Let’s Get Physical)
“So dose the carpet match the drapes or is it lanolium is fine to ask or what about do you have a gag reflex lol Yes I am a jackass. You want to know anything please ask if you want to see if I’m crazy ask my name and check out my Facebook I’m kind of normal lol”
It’s okay, we’re family
I received a very poetic and shamelessly flattering email from a man and went to check out his profile. The first picture was him in a suit with the words, “Photo Shoot” under it. Hmm, model? photographer? Next picture was an artsy-type of photo of a women’s back. She was sitting with her legs folded beside her and glancing over her shoulder at the camera. She was naked. Her arms and hands bound with rope. Then another picture of a different woman, also naked, also tied. And then, yet a third. The grand finale was a picture of him taken from above. He was naked with ropes criss-crossing his body and a small pouch covering his Don Johnson.
Well, I just had to know. What was it all about? I emailed him, and asked, “So, what’s with all the pictures of tied-up naked women on your profile?” His reply? “They are bondage pictures of my sisters and cousins in Kazakhstan.” My next move: DELETE!
On to the actual dates
These are true! I kid you not. I actually had these experiences.
One way to ensure a fast get-away
I met a man for drink at a pub, and as the date was wrapping up I said,”Well, I guess we just need to get the bill from the waitress”, to which he replied, “I already paid for my drink at the bar, so you’re up to bat.”
Racist? Who me?
I met a guy for a drink. He knew I live in Richmond, and before my butt hit the chair the second sentence out of his mouth was: “Huh, a white girl from Richmond.”
Run Forrest, Run!
I met this fellow in a funky pub/restaurant downtown. The minute he arrived at the table, he began talking and for the next 45 minutes I think I got three sentences in — all while he consumed an entire plate of chicken wings.
Now, what you need to know about me is that I can talk the ear of a deaf nun, so this gives you an idea of how much he was yammering on. There was something else odd but I couldn’t quite place it. He said a phrase that sounded like a key message his parents had been feeding him since a young boy. Something like ” I’m equally smart and loved and respected”.
At one point he said,” Oh, look at me talking away about work. My mother always says, “Let the lady talk and don’t bore her with work talk.” So what do you do for a living, Jennifer.” What you need to know about this is two things: One, I immediately had a flash of Tom Hanks as Forrest Gump, “my mother always says…” and two, my name is not Jennifer…not even close.” When I casually corrected him as I began, or so I thought, to tell him what I do for a living, he launched into 20 minutes explaining how he knew that and how he had even practiced remembering my name.
I never liked you anyway :P~
I always try to be friendly, but maybe that’s not a good thing. At the end of a date with a fellow that I really didn’t feel any chemistry with, he asked me if I’d like to go out again. I stammered out something lame that I can’t remember, but he got the picture. When I got home he had sent me a message through the dating site saying, “I didn’t really want to see you again anyway. I only asked you because I felt I should.”
Right out of a Seinfeld episode
I had arranged to meet a guy one work night for a drink. I was meeting him later in the evening and having dinner/drinks on a hot, sunny patio with my buddy Jake first. We sat in the hot sun eating, drinking and laughing for a few hours and then Jake walked with me to the other restaurant so I could meet my date. As I hugged Jake goodbye, I could see a man who clearly recognized me and I realized this was my date.
Oh, my. He was wearing an almost-lime green suit, white socks and white sunglasses. I don’t even think George Clooney could pull off that look. I clung to Jake, but he just brushed me off and waved goodbye with a smirk on his face. Lime green suit and I said our ‘hellos’ and headed up the stairs. When we were seated he gave me a mango — long story, but definitely a red flag I had missed. It took me all of five minutes to realize that my date was a bit physically and mentally challenged. I immediately felt bad about criticizing his outfit.
Wait, is that in the bible?
I was excited to meet this man because he sounded nice and was cute, according to his pictures. We met for a drink and I was pleasantly surprised that he actually looked as good in person as his photos. Our conversation flowed easily until he asked me this question: “So, how adventurous are you? Y’know, in bed.” I asked for his definition of adventurous and it turns out he was talking about threesomes and explained that he’d had a few. “Well, might as well get some info, an inside look at a world that’s foreign to me”, I thought. I found out a lot of interesting things about how there are a lot of rules for couples who pick up singles for this activity.
I figured I would not be seeing him again, but a few days later we texted and I figured, not sure how, that somehow we could get over this threesome thing. On our second date, we met again for drinks and the conversation ranged from Freemasons, conspiracy theories, 911 being an inside job and ended with religion. Definitely not boring. When religion came up I made some comment about feeling that all roads lead to Rome, i.e. all religions lead to the same universal God, force whatever. That’s just where I’m at now-adays. But, he wasn’t impressed with that and said, “Oh, no, but that’s not true. There is only one saviour and it’s Jesus Christ our Lord.” Turns out he was a born-again Christian. I shit you not. Needless, to say, that was our last date. My friends know him as the Threesome-loving Jesus Freak.
I’m no longer doing the online dating thing, so I’ll have to go back to the old-fashion way to meet a man … standing on the street corner.