A girlfriend and I were swapping dating nightmares over the weekend. I think everyone has had at least one horrible date to submit. Rocketman has never been on a blind date, and the entire concept frightens him. I rather like the blind date. I like the mystery. However, a couple years ago I hit a dry spell. I thought I’d branch out.
I tried online dating. With wild optimism I jumped into Match.com with fervor and zeal. What surprised me were the responses I received. Within 48 hours I had countless emails and two marriage proposals. While this should have been flattering, it was downright creepy and disturbing. There are a LOT of lonely guys out there. While that may be sad, I’m here to tell you, they are lonely for a REASON. I had one guy email me only once telling me that he’d like to give me a bath. I tell ya what, I felt like I NEEDED a bath after reading his email. YIG. I gotta give the dude credit though, he skipped the minutia and got right down to business. I scrolled through the responses and deleted most of them. Everyone has dealbreakers. I used to think that I set my bar pretty darn low. Have a job? Have teeth? Here’s my phone number. Not anymore.
People cannot spell. This chaps my ass. There’s no excuse for that anymore with our technological advances. Pure laziness. A deal breaker. One guy said he had a “nack” for dancing. One, (I’m dead freakin’ serious) told me that he enjoyed “Baytoben’s” music. BAYTOBEN. Ah, he appreciates the symphony! Another of my favorites is the current trend with email slang. If there is a “LOL”, or “ROFLMAO”, or “U R Hot”, I’m OUT folks. Again with the laziness. All CAPS, I won’t even read it. The shift key is literally a fraction of an inch from your left pinky and you can’t USE IT?!? Another one that really gets me is “kewl”. Yes, that’s very clever. Go back to your science fiction movie marathon.
I actually went on a few dates. My mistake. Guys will say ANYTHING in an email. They will post pictures of themselves from 10 years ago. When they had hair. And abs. And weren’t living with their Mom. I had corresponded with what I thought was a *normal* man for a couple of weeks. I agreed to meet him for a drink, with dinner plans ensuing. We didn’t make it to dinner. I’m not that damn polite. We were on our second drink before white supremacy came into the conversation. He was DEAD serious, too. I really wish these guys would just be honest on their profiles. Maybe put “cross burning” in your hobbies or something? Give a girl a heads up, fellas.
I went on another one. I would not be daunted. One bad date does not an online dating catastrophe make. This one turns up to meet me at a bar before an outdoor music festival. I arrived early, as I always do…it’s an upper hand thing. I get to check him out before he sees me. Plus, I make sure we’re in a smoking section and I already have a stiff martini under my belt. Dude is a midget. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. However, maybe you could’ve mentioned that in your profile, or in your email when you were describing yourself? No wonder his pictures were all head shots. His profile listed him as 5’7. I have no idea how many phone books he was perched upon before coming up with that number. Guys, I kid you not when I say he had to get a RUNNING START to get upon the bar stool next to me. When I shook his hand, my hand encompassed his. Like a grizzly bear. He should have been in a tree making cookies. In a Sally Field Academy Award winning performance, I managed to maintain my composure and pretend that it was business as usual in the “random crazy shit that is my life” department. I then tried to shake him after a drink. Didn’t work. We went to the festival. I had to BEND DOWN to talk to him, or hear him speak. After a couple of drinks, I asked him if he’d like to get on my shoulders so that he could see better. Again, didn’t work. Of course I ran into people I work with. Figures. And for you self righteous types, he wasn’t charming or cute in personality. He had some sort of Napoleon thing going on and made a couple jokes about “scaling” me. Nice.
I had a date with a guy that had more holes in him than the pegboard in my Father’s garage. “Piercing” wasn’t even listed in his profile as an affinity. He had bars in the webs between his forefingers and thumbs. Eyebrows, ears, lips, nose, tongue…all pierced. Also other areas of which he was proud to divulge. I’m proud to divulge I never saw them. Holy crap.
I had yet another date with an extremely physically attractive man. When he walked in, I thought “jackpot”! Then he spoke. Damnit. Not only was he so drunk that he could barely string a sentence together, he literally said “why don’t we skip dinner and just go make out in my car?”, within the first ten minutes. I cannot make this stuff up.
I once quit seeing a guy because he was an “early braker”. When we were in his car, he’d start pumping his brakes 100 yards from a stop sign, or red light. He’d ever so slowly approach the intersection at 10 miles an hour. I’m looking around for a school zone at 9pm. Nothing was wrong with his car, or his brakes. It drove me nuts. I *may* be a bitch, but seriously, that’s really annoying. I went on a date with another guy and we ended up at his place for a nightcap. He was giving me a tour of his home and we arrived at his bedroom. He had a HUGE framed poster of a unicorn hanging over his bed. Raring up on it’s hind legs and there was a rainbow in the background, connecting with its horn. Dude. I gotta go.
I once went on a date with a guy who told me things he wanted to do to me using Hickory Farms products. Run. Like. Hell. I bet he had some sort of pit in his house, like in “Silence of the Lambs”. Only me. I went out with a guy who upon arriving back at his place, started smacking himself (hard)in the face with a tennis racket thinking he’d screwed up our date. You know what, buddy? YA DID. RIGHT THIS FREAKIN’ SECOND.
I’m not normal. No one is. I hope these guys all find happiness, I really do. However, I hope some of them don’t reproduce. Rocketman told me over the weekend that he indeed loves me, even in spite of my being a “lil’ bit crazy”. Let the record show that at the time, my finger was in his ear, which I do quite a bit. I’m not sure why. I find it funny to put my finger in his ear while he’s talking to me sometimes. He’s gotten to the point where he just keeps talking and we have a “normal” conversation, which I find even more hysterical. God love him.
Sure, I’m crazy. I know that. So do you. Rocketman can be a little nutty in his own way. We both have our style. I guess it’s just finding someone on the same barometer of crazy that you are. Or at the very least, finding a degree of crazy that you can understand. Perhaps. Maybe it’s finding someone that you connect with, and your varying levels of crazy don’t overlap. Ours don’t. I’m crazy on a completely other level than Rocketman. After all, my crazy is part of my charm. His is just lunacy.
Rocketman isn’t crazy at all. I’m crazy about him.