Posts Tagged ‘Dating


Bowing out gracefully

If there’s one thing that about the dating world that baffles me, it’s the stories about the people who don’t handle rejection well. A recent Date Wrecks entry is exactly what I’m talking about (and is the inspiration for this post).


Usually in the online dating world, silence is your rejection. It’s rare to have someone write you back to say “Thanks, but no thanks” and give a reason as to why you’ve been declined. And really, what are they supposed to say? “I’m sorry, the third eye and hunchback really don’t do it for me. Kthxbai.” I mean, recently I had a woman mail me who had the writing and spelling ability of a third-grader. What was I supposed to say? “I’m sorry, but while you are cute, I can’t deal with your inability to write a complete, coherent sentence as it causes me ridiculous amounts of pain. Good luck! :)” Sometimes it’s something just that stupid. It could be a vibe, a personal preference (because while love may be blind, rejection isn’t) or a lengthy stint in federal prison for mass murder that sends you down rejection road. If you have trouble thinking of a reason why you were rejected, sometimes it helps to think of those couples that you simply don’t get — you know what I’m talking about — that whole Billy Joel-Christie Brinkley thing, except you know them and they aren’t divorced.

Similar to love, sometimes there is no legitimate rhyme or reason for being shown the door.  So, in an effort to help my fellow peeps, here’s my tips on how to bow out gracefully:

  1. Suck it up, Buttercup: You’ve gotten the “thanks but no thanks” mail. Shrug your shoulders, say “Your loss!”, delete the person from your “favorites” list and move on. By far the simplest thing to do.
  2. Respectfully respond: The person thought enough of you to say “thanks but no thanks,” and you want to acknowledge that with your own “Thanks for not being a tool about it” response. A nice way to go about it is to say something along the lines of “No worries. I had to satisfy my curiosity and take a shot — but hey, good luck out there and I’ll catch you on the flip side!” By doing something like this, you come across as confident and mature (though some may take it as a little creepy as you can’t seem to let it go), and leave the door open to further contact (which isn’t likely to happen, no matter how much you expect it to).
  3. Pursuit (not recommended): Some folks don’t like to take no as an answer (I’m lookin’ at you, Ben R.), and certainly we’ve all heard the stories of guys who got the girl after a lengthy chase and multiple denials (I’m lookin’ at you, Ben R.). Unfortunately, that exists mostly in chick flicks (and crime scenes, Ben R.), and for every 1% of the time that it works, the other 99% result in restraining orders or arrests. To do it right (ie, no restraining order or arrests) involves a tremendous amount of wooing and romantic gestures (and no, flipping them off is not considered a romantic gesture), which most folks simply don’t have the time or desire to engage in. For these reasons, I don’t recommend this route — but if you insist, the important thing to remember is not to insult the person. Insulting the other person is akin to ending a job interview that went poorly by saying “Your bitch-ass company wouldn’t know a good [insert job position] if it was right in front of you, which it is, you stupid bitches,” and still expecting to get hired. I have yet to hear of that couple that’s been together for 50 years say, “Well, I turned him down at first, but then he told me not to be a stupid, stuck up bitch and pass him up — and I thought to myself, ‘You know, sometimes I am a stupid, stuck up bitch,’ and I changed my mind. We’ve been together ever since!” The bottom line: Pursuing someone with insults isn’t the same as wooing someone.
  4. It is inevitable.

    Have fun with it: Look, not all of us are mature, responsible adults. Lord knows I’m not. So, if you’re in public and you get rejected, why not take that sting and make it into a joke? For example, a common one among my friends was pretending you were a Japanese dive bomber that had been shot down, complete with friends acting like pom-pom guns. Believe it or not, this can go further than what you think. Since this is a public move, and she’ll likely see your response, it leaves several burning questions in her mind — and hopefully one of them will be “What’s he got going on that he can just laugh it off?” If you managed to pique her curiosity, you’ll be far more likely to talking to her again — with her initiating the conversation.

There. Now is that really so hard? A little civility and a sense of humor can take you far. Any and all of these tips are far better than the lashing-back technique, which is guaranteed to get you nothing in return (except for maybe a submission to a Web site or a blog, with pictures of you and story outlining what a complete and utter troll you are to go along with them).


Back to the front

For the past few months, I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking, wondering and hemming and hawing about the inevitable: The return to the wonderful world of dating.

See, Cali is going to be doing her residency back in California. It’s an opportunity that she would be silly to pass up, as it’s a great program AND she’ll be back with her family, who she adores. So, obviously that means we’ve parted ways in the romantic sense. She’s still a near and dear friend. I would have no problems going out to visit her and have her show me the sights out in LA (as a friend). Heck, if I needed advice or just felt like chatting, no sweat giving her a call.

But she’s also leaving me with a greater sense of what I want in a relationship. For the first time in a long, long time, I have better idea of what I want, and they type of person I want to share it with. I’m actually entering into this next phase with more optimism than I have in the past.

So, I recently felt it was time to throw myself out there again, and rejoined the Internet dating world. I think my last bout with it was 2 or 3 years ago, and it just left me feeling disgusted. I think at that point, I just said “to hell with it,” removed all the profiles and opted to just do things the old fashioned way — you know, get drunk and meet people. Technically, I don’t think I’ve ever dated anyone I’ve met online for longer than a few months — but I can’t help but think there’s folks out there that I would click with that I’m just missing because of my craptastic work schedule. So, I opted to give it a try … again.

POF users agree: "You wrote your profile like a fag."

This time, thanks to Date Wrecks, I decided to give “OK Cupid” a try. My rationale was this: I don’t feel like paying to meet people, so that rules out a couple of sites. Plenty of Fish, while free, seems to be more like “Plenty of Mouthbreathers” (even though I have a profile there, trust me, my use of language and grammar means I get treated like Luke Wilson’s character in “Idiocracy”), and I wanted to something … I don’t know … different. And Craigslist? No, sorry. I haven’t ventured there, and don’t think I ever would. That place frightens me.

OKC actually seemed a little different. A billion and one questions to answer to “determine your personality.” Boxes that you could opt to fill out or not. Cool. So, the other morning, I typed in a half-assed profile, threw up a couple pics and started searching.

And then a first happened: In the profile’s main picture, I saw myself in it. I wasn’t mad or anything, just a little … confused? stunned? something? Then I realized who the person was and burst out laughing. It was a friend of mine who I hadn’t seen in awhile. In fact, as I perused, I saw several friends using this site, which made me feel a little more comfortable.

After I searched and played around, getting things set up — a little here, a little there, almost entirely off-the-cuff and half-assed –I went about my day. When I logged back on, to my surprise, I had responses. Oh, cool. Puzzling, but whatever.

But they weren’t responses like an actual e-mail. First was apparently a 25 year old from Texas, who mailed me a “Hi” (yes, that was it, “Hi.”) and then tried to IM me. That got deleted, and IMs got turned off. First, I hate IMs. Secondly, I figured it was a spambot.

Next was a “wink.” You know, the equivalent of being told that so-and-so likes you in the cafeteria by her best friend, and now it’s up to you to capitalize on it. For me, the only time a “wink” actually works appropriately in the real world is if it’s done in a totally cheeseball, over-the-top fashion. Online, it gives me the impression of zero confidence. But hey, maybe she wasn’t as extroverted as I am — and she seemed interesting — so I e-mailed her and we’re chatting.

But then I got this cryptic mail. It’s all “One of these 9 people rated you a 4/5 in QuickMatch!” Apparently, QuickMatch is some goofy little game in which people rate you, you rate them and if both ratings are high, then it tells you who rated you. Here’s how this whole thing played out in my mind:

Someone gave me a high rating! Zowy! Who? Is she smart? Hot? Saucy? … What? I have to rate these 9 people to see who did it, and it will tell me only if I give her a high rating? Seriously? Well fuck that.

Sorry Ed McMahon, “You may already be a winner” is the kind of horseshit that I don’t do. In fact, to whomever the rater was … see that little “message” button on my profile?  Click it. Type in a quick message. Click send. Christ on a pony, this shit ain’t hard. But to rate me in hopes that I’ll rate you highly is supremely weak. Take a chance. Worse thing that could happen is you could fail. Pfffft. Whatev.

And then there’s this “quiver” feature that I don’t really get. “See that whole play on Cupid … oh, he’s loadin’ up some treats for you! Ha HA!” Yeah, I get the pun. What I don’t get is what that feature is supposed to do. You’re options are to look at the profile or reject it. That’s it. But what’s funny is my search parameters are already stricter than the ones used for that search, so it’s “introducing” me to a whole lot of folks that I’ve already essentially ruled out. Thanks OKC! I love redundancy!

Well, let’s hope that I can figure out a way to disable half of these “features,” and that limits all the game playing that I’ll have to endure. In the meantime, I’m sure you will see my “Dating Stinks” category grow in an amusing, and hopefully non-bunny boiling, kind of way.


How not to impress your date

Last night I had a chance to hang out with my friend Pirogi Queen. You’ll remember her from the Epic Fail “here is your reward” dating story that’s lingering on the old blog. (I would link to it, but will have to correct it later on. See why I have the itchy trigger finger and want to just move all the old stuff over?)

Well, she had another dating mishap, though not nearly as tragic as the previous story.

She had met a new beau online, who apparently was doing fine. No major trauma, they were having fun, things were looking positive. But now PQ apparently has some kind of “5 date” rule, meaning she’s gonna hold off judgment until after 5 dates, because she feels you can learn a lot about a person by then.

So, as date No. 5 is nearing, she gets a call from the beau. Apparently, the conversation went something like this:

BEAU: Hey, just wanted to let you know that I’ll be running late.
PQ: That’s not a problem. Anything going on?
BEAU: Well, yeah … I gotta take a steaming shit.
PQ: …
PQ: I’m sorry, we’re done. *click*

So, Rule No. 537 — no matter how comfortable you feel with someone, there are some things that you just don’t need to share.


What not to say…

And yet another dating story from one of my friends. This is one from my friend, who I will call “Ninja,” who writes about her online dating experiences in Facebook’s notepad. (Hopefully I’ve convinced her to start her own blog, and if so, expect a link.) She included the guy’s name and photo, but I won’t, because that’s not how I roll. However, this story is too good not to share:

If a woman doesn’t respond to your personal ad the first time, writing this won’t help…especially if you look like a psycho in your profile photo.

” I hope this doesn’t offend you but I feel I have nothing to lose by being honest, I haven’t ever talked to you and it feel secure on here to say.

My c?ck twitches and swells when I see your pictures; I avoid looking at your profile because it makes me feel bad that this could offend you.

My honest feelings on the table, I can’t imagine if we met, there would be undoubted energy”

Saying how I want to projectile vomit after reading this just doesn’t seem expressive enough.

There would be energy indeed…expended when my foot met his groin. PERV!

Now, if this wasn’t bad enough, when I was asking Ninja for permission to use her story, she shared another little bit of information:

Hey, this story just got even better/more twisted. My sister saw the blog and pic last night, and said it looked a lot like her ex-boyfriend’s neighbor. Well, she confirmed with the ex-b/f (who she’s still friendly with) that it IS him, and he is married with kids. This scumbag also claims to have served in Iraq. Well, he was never in Iraq, but he was incarcerated for awhile. What a piece of work!

Wow. You know, I’ve dated a lot of crazies, but I think this person goes above and beyond …


A video is worth 10 million words

And you thought internet dating was bad …


Oral skills

Sorry, I dont do heathens.

Sorry, I don't do heathens.

As I perused the Facebook listings of my friends today, I came upon yet another dating disaster story. I haven’t yet asked “Rockstar” if I could use the entire story — but I’m not sure I want to use the entire thing — because the lead off quote said it all:

“I had visions of your cock in my mouth all night until you said you don’t believe in god”

Yup, what caused this dating disaster was his non-belief in God, who I’m sure would really be impressed by her oral skills. You know, that he gave her.

Who knew God could be such a cockblocker?


The Epic Fail of the dating world

I recently attended an event where I got to see an old friend of mine. As the drinks flowed and we got caught up on things (we hadn’t talked to each other since March, and our schedules tend to be very opposite), we dove into the personal life situation. And it was here that I heard the most epic fail dating story I’ve ever heard that I wasn’t a part of.

Apparently the Pirogi Queen (as I shall dub her), found out that the beau she was dating back in March was cheating on her, so she dumped his ass and moved on. PQ then turned to the Internet to try her luck, and met Senor Epic Fail.

I’m going to skip over a bunch of the courtship stuff, because it’s not nearly as entertaining. But basically, EF was the clingy, insecure guy. Like if she got some time off and he knew about it, he pretty much assumed that she wanted him over, and would be waiting when she pulled in from work. He did things like introduce his mom to her via the Web cam (which I’m assuming meant that he lived with her), and just about 100 other things that made me wince.

Well, PQ is a Pens fanatic, and had a gathering at her house during the playoffs to feast on wings and get silly while watching the game. I think she primarily wanted it as a bash for her friends, but he showed up regardless. Her best friend Russo (yet another fake name to protect the innocent) is a great guy known for his brutal honesty. She tells Russo that she’s going to pick up wings; Russo responds by telling her he’ll check out EF and determine whether he’s a tool or not.

The wing place is just mobbed. 30 minute wait for her order. So, like any good Pittsburgher, she buys some beer and heads to the parking lot. Turns out an old friend of hers pulls in, and they start chatting while drinking. I believe it was during this time that she gets a text from Russo saying “Toolbag.”

So, she grabs her order and heads home. EF is waiting in the door, asking “What took you so long? Game’s almost on!” while repeatedly looking at his watch. Immediately after that, her cellphone is going off with Russo’s texts: “Tool.” And I do mean multiple.

The game begins. They’re cheering, chowing, having a blast. Now, PQ and her friend got pics with Marc Andre Fleury, and so she printed out some and plastered them around the living room. Someone remarks upon them, calling Fleury her boyfriend. EF slams his fist on the table and says, “No, that’s MY job.” PQ is kinda stunned. Russo laughs and says, “Hey, good that you promoted yourself.”

Text messages: Tool. Tool. Tool.
Followed by: Dump this tool. Do it now.

PQ knows he has to go. But she’s kind enough to wait until after the game.

Game ends. She enters mom mode, and shoos everyone out the door so she can clean her house, which is trashed. As Russo leaves, he’s giving her the neck slash, telling her that there is no hope for EF. EF stays, and sits on the couch, and doesn’t offer to help as she cleans.

PQ finally finishes. EF looks at her and says, “Are you done now?”

She says, “Yeah, finally.”

Now, get this image into your head. EF sits splayed on the couch, legs far apart, arms across the back of the couch. Bending his hands at the wrists, he points to his crotch and says a line that will live in infamy:

“Are you ready for your reward?”

She’s just stunned. Absolutely stunned.

She simply grabs his stuff and goes to door and throws it outside.

“We’re done.”

EF walks to the door, a little mystified — and definitely dejected.

Once outside, he turns to her and says, “Are you sure? It’d be a shame to waste this,” as he points to his groin again.

“Good bye.”

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