So, Blondie and I went on a date on Saturday night to go see the critically acclaimed film, "Hall Pass." Blondie's choice, people, not mine. We arrived early so decided that the only way two old ladies like us would stay awake for the entirety of a 2-hour movie that starts at 8pm, would be if we grabbed a Starbucks, which is located just next-door to the movie theatre.
So we go in and Blondie, being the great date that she is, buys me my drink. Awww... I love my husband. As she's paying, I walk away to go stand next to the barista area - where people go to wait for their drinks. I literally have to squeeze past this man, who is on his cell phone, in order to get to the proper waiting area. As I am walking past, I hear him saying, "Hello? Uh... hello...?" and I think to myself that he is clearly talking to the person on the other end of the phone. Damn AT&T. But then I hear, "Natalie?" I spin around. I recognize him immediately but pretend that I have no idea who he is. "Hi," I say. Blondie is looking at my with a skeptical eye. I shoot a Fudge, this is awkward. Get me outta here look right back at her. "I believe we met on match," he says to me. Don't "I believe" me, Mister. You know my name! You very well know where we met. "Ohhhhhh..." I say, still shooting sideways glances at Blondie. Please save me. "What's your name?" I ask. Of course, I know his name. I think. "Winky McWhatGives" he responds. Duh. Of course it is.
Now let's rewind for a second. You all remember Winky McWhatGives, don't you? How could you forget? And let's say you have forgotten - I think then it's time you scroll through the archives and find the post entitled "What Gives" and you shall discover why the last thing I EVER wanted to do in my life EVER... was run into this guy in Starbucks.
"What are you doing here," he asks? "Oh, my friend, Blondie, and I are going to see a movie. You?" "Me, too! I am going to see 'Hall Pass.'" Yep. How did I know? Please don't ask if you can sit with us. Please don't ask if you can sit with us. He does not ask to sit with us, but he does continue to shoot the shit as he looks me up and down with hungry eyes (according to Blondie - "Did you SEE the way he was looking at you?"). Ugh. Finally, he asks if he can call me. I cannot reject this guy for, like, a fifth time in the middle of Starbucks when we are about to go sit in the same tiny movie theatre to watch the same lame movie as him. "Sure," I say, clearly with reluctance - clenched teeth and a quivering lip. He cannot sense my reluctance, though, because all he sees is this amazing aura of light around me. I am an angel sent from the heavens and our miraculously running into each other in Starbucks is surely a sign from God that we should be together. It is fate!
Finally, he realizes that I am on a date and he excuses himself to order his coffee. Blondie and I grab our drinks from the barista - why did they take SO LONG to make our drinks? Oh, right, because Blondie had to wait for her decaf coffee to brew. We literally run out of Starbucks. In the theatre, we sit as high up as possible and hide. BTW, this guy is alone. So he is clearly not getting a lot of hits on match.com. Gee, I wonder why? Thankfully, we never see him enter or exit the theatre. We make it out of there safely. *Phew!*
Fast-forward to Sunday night. I receive a phone call at 10pm (side note: do not call me at 10pm on a Sunday night. I am sleeping. Guaranteed). It wakes me up. It is Winky, who leaves a voice message. O.M.G. this guy is clueless. He says, "It was great running into you on Saturday night!" No it wasn't. He asks if we can catch up. I do not call him back. I will not call him back. Why is it the freaks who love me the most? Why? Why? WHY? Seriously, what gives? This vote has already been cast, but in case you need to be reminded: FREAK!
And now for the lightning-speed updates on the rest of my dating life:
1) Okie McDogRescuer never called. WAH! I liked him! Final vote: Bud.
2) MountainBiker McChristian also stopped calling. Aww shucks. But in reality... don't care. And, as it turns out, he is the SAME guy that NicestFriend McChurchGirl-Granola's roommate went on a date with about a year ago! Same thing happened to her! Clearly, this guy is NOT a keeper. And he has no type because McChurchGirl-Granola's roommate and I look nothing alike. Final vote: Dud.
3) Final update - not so lightning speed, though. This deserves a full explanation. So for a second, I was communicating with a new potenty: eHarmony McTayeDiggsLookalike. He was smokin'! We actually met on eHarmony late 2009 (clearly, I have tried them all, people. Multiple times. I never seem to learn my lesson). We went on one date to Starbucks. He was very handsome in person, but he was a flaky mctallguy for sure. At some point early last year, just before I started dating Douchey, he got "busy" and we stopped communicating (which was just texting, btw, because he didn't like talking on the phone. Hello, red flag)! So I get this email on match a week ago and it's from this guy. I could not remember his name. I am very upfront with him and I tell him that I am not looking for a text buddy and that if he is interested in a serious relationship, then he should call me. Oh, and btw, what's your name again? A couple of days later, I get a text from him: "Hey, what's up." Clearly, he did not get the message. In my text back I told him that he needed to ask me out on a date or we were done-zo. So he responds and asks if I would like to come over to his house and "chill." WHAT!? Are you serious? I tell him no, that I want to go on a real date. He is resistant but agrees that maybe we can meet at Rancho for a walk. Ahh... much more my style. We don't end up going on that date, though, because, WTF?, it is snowing in San Jose. Instead, we make plans to schedule something else later. FYI - still no phone call from this guy. I decide to hold out for him, though, because he is incredibly good looking.
So Tuesday afternoon comes around and I get a text from him. He asks me, again, if I want to go to house his and chill. OK, how much clearer can I be? NO! I want to go on a real date! I am angry and pretty much write that word for word. After about an hour of text arguing with him, he writes this: "I'll be upfront and candid... I have no intent of wining and dining anyone until I feel as if they are someone I have a mental and physical connection with and can see myself with."
I am so irritated by this point, so I write back (over a series of text messages): "How do you expect to ever make a connection with someone if you don't go on a date? I was never asking you to buy me fancy dinners. Meeting over coffee or for a drink works just fine. Or even talking to me on the phone. You do realize that there are creeps, rapists, and sex fiends on the internet, right? So when you ask a girl to come over to your house when you don't know her, you are going to come across as one of the above. It's not to say that you are one of the above, but you could be. How do I know? I am protecting myself when I ask to meet you in a public place." This is apparently funny to him because the message I get back says, "LOL." Yeah, I am sure you were laughing out loud.
"Though I get your point," he writes, "a rapist, sex fiend, or stalker is going to be the same person after one date or 100 dates... Look, I am not knocking your reluctance. I invited, you declined, it really isn't that big of a deal." He is right. And I am SO OVER HIM at this point. Even if he was Taye Diggs, I would have sent this same message back: "Ok well it's not going to work for me, so good luck!" And here is the kicker... His response: "K. Just let me know" HA! Now I am totally LOLing! Final vote: Idiot... er, I mean Dud.
Showing posts with label textersations. Show all posts
Showing posts with label textersations. Show all posts
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Three strikes and you're OUT!
*Sigh*
This was an eventful and emotionally draining weekend, and for a brief moment (approximately 1 hour), I gave up on match.com. But I did some thinking and I'm ready to get back out there.
So here's what happened...
Strike 1: Friday night, I had my first date with Whitey McMidwest. Oh man, over text message, he was the perfect guy. And I had really high hopes for this one because we really seemed to connect and, in his words, "it [felt] like we already [knew] each other." Our first conversation over the phone lasted for one hour! That conversation took place on Saturday, January 7th and we made plans that day to do dinner and bowling the upcoming Friday night. Each day following, Whitey texted me and we had riveting textersations. We seemed to have so much in common, including an intense love for the show, Jersey Shore. He would text me things like, "Friday couldn't come sooner" or "I can't wait to meet you" in addition to things like, "We should do this..." or "We should go there together..." Things that, as a vulnerable single woman who tends to read into things sometimes, I was weary of getting excited about.
I've been in the non-relationship before where the guy talks up all the great things we're going to do together and then dumps me for some unexplained reason (before, of course, any of those things ever happen). So in order to prevent myself from getting too excited about Whitey, I continuously responded to his comments of "We should..." with, "We'll have to see how Friday goes!" No one wants to set themselves up for disappointment. I've done it before and I am learning not to read into everything a guy says.
So, with that in mind, we meet for our date Friday night. We enjoy a nice dinner and split a bottle of wine. We have great conversation - talk, laugh, learn about each other. It's nice. I feel like it's going well. After dinner, we head to the bowling alley and we bowl two games. When our games are over, he suggests we hang out in the bar where karaoke is about to begin. We are having a fantastic time. He doesn't appear to be bored nor disgusted with me as a person. Phew! Then, nearly five hours after it began, we finally decide to end the date. As we walk out, he gives me a small kiss on the lips, tells me he had a great time, and that he'll call me. I leave feeling excited and optomistic. I am even more optomistic when he texts me to tell me he's excited to do all those things we had talked about doing "after Friday." I smile as I fall asleep.
Fast-forward to the weekend. I do not hear from him. I become Crazy. I am even crying at some points because I do not understand WTF is going on. Three days go by and I finally hear from him on Monday evening when I get this text: "I've been doing some thinking and I just don't think we're a good match after all. I've had fun getting to know you and wish you the best of luck!" Don't cry for me because here's the honest truth: when he didn't call me for three days, I already knew that that was the text I'd be getting. It's called Women's Intuition and it involves the sick feeling you get in your stomach when you know something isn't going right. Ladies, DO NOT IGNORE THIS FEELING! It is real! No, something didn't happen to his phone. No, he's not just busy with his buddies. No, he didn't die suddenly. No no no. He is just not that into you (even though the guy who wrote that book is an asshole, he's right!) And only God knows the reason why he's not into you. But don't obsess over that either. Just do what you can to overcome the Crazy, and then move on.
So after a few tears shed - not over a simple white guy from the midwest, but over the disappointment of another lost possibility of finding love - that's exactly what I did. I moved on. Final vote, obviously: bud.
Strike two: I went on a first date with Foody McGradSchool on Saturday afternoon. I was not feeling nearly the connection with Foody that I did with Whitey, but who am I to turn down a free meal, right? I broke my first date rule and agreed to let him pick me up because he was driving all the way down to Sunnyvale from San Bruno. I found this guy interesting because he had a very positive outlook on life and he seemed to be really spiritually centered. I find that attractive, as long as it isn't too in-your-face. When this guy picked me up, I'll admit that he definitely looked like he did in his profile pictures, except for the fact that he was probably 100 times skinnier. I have actually never seen a skinnier man in my life. He was a beanpole. When he turned sideways, he disappeared. I felt like a giant beast next to this guy.
Other than his lack of body fat, I found him to be attractive and genuinely nice. We drove to a local Mexican restaurant. He had a white Acura with Dr. Dre playing on the stereo and it was at this moment that some things he had said in previous conversations ("I grew up in parts of Daly City and Vistacion Valley, near Hunter's Point," and "Growing up in the projects..." - btw, this is the whitest guy you've ever seen) caused me to realize that this guy is San Francisco's Slim Shady. He even had the ghetto driving swagger down, with the seat tilted back, extreme lean to the right, resting practically the entire right side of his body on the center console (which, btw, put his head about two inches from mine), and just one arm - his left one - draped loosely over the steering wheel. Man, this guy really IS from the projects, I thought. Oh, and did I mention that he was practically sagging his jeans all the way down to his thighs? I could not tell if he was going for the gangsta style or if he simply couldn't keep his pants up on his 25-inch waist.
At the restaurant, we enjoy a lovely meal and talk about many things, including how we are both really, really RIDICULOUSLY good at Words with Friends. So he asks me what my user name is and we have been playing since that afternoon (I am beating him). We even have a candid conversation about what it's like to be on match.com, dating multiple people at once, etc. I like how honest our conversation is. After lunch, he drives me back to my place, gives me a hug, and we say our goodbyes. Overall, no sparks, but a nice date. Final vote: bud.
Strike three: As you may recall, this weekend I was supposed to have Date #3 with Flaky McTallGuy. Well, guess what? Yep, that's right - he flaked. I had pretty much decided I was over him by midweek when I hadn't heard from him. Then, Wednesday night, he sent me a message. We texted back and forth for a bit until he finally asked, "What time on Saturday?" I told him anytime after 5pm. "I have plans at 7," he texts back. "What about Sunday?" Seriously!? Ugh, this is the flakiest guy I have ever met! I agreed to Sunday even though I was thinking, "You are a loser and I am done with you." A couple of days go by until he texts, then calls me at approximately 11:30pm on Saturday night. I had just arrived home from my date with Whitey. He shoots the shit for a bit until I start yawning. Sorry dude, but I am exhausted and have to get up hella early for Saturday morning triathlon practice. He tells me he has some ideas for what we'll do on Sunday and that he'll call to finalize plans. "Ok, sounds good. Good night."
Flaky seems to know when I am on a date with another guy because that always seems to be the time he calls or texts. So just as my date with Foody is ending on Saturday afternoon, I get a call from Flaky. I don't answer, of course, but listen to the voicemail when I get home." I am not surprised by what it says: "Hi Natalie... I've been thinking about things for a couple of days now and I feel like there's sort of a friend vibe coming down and I don't know if it's just bad timing for me or what, but I think you're a great girl and blah blah blah..." And then, at the end of the message, he says, "So let me know your thoughts." REALLY!? What, like I'm going to call you back and say, "NO! There's no friend vibe! You must take me out on Sunday!?" Whatever dude. I texted him back to say, "I agree" and told him to have a good life. But what I really wanted to say was: 1) grow a pair and don't leave something like that on a voicemail; 2) I think you might be gay (for real, I need to figure out how to post a snippet of a voicemail); and 3) learn how to manage your schedule so you aren't so flaky, you bonehead. But I decided to be nice. This time. he did text me back saying, "You are smart, funny, and have a lot going for you. Take care." Barf. Final vote: bud.
So now you might be thinking - well, three strikes and you're out, right? That is EXACTLY what I was thinking. For a second, I was totally down in the dumps. I wanted to give up on dating, give up on men altogether. BUT THEN... Blondie McSmartyPants gave me some good advice. After showing me an excerpt from a book she's planning to read (My Half Orange by Amy Spencer, which I will be reading as well), she decided that our problem is not that we can't find the men of our dreams, but that we're not putting all of our effort into attracting them. And she's right. I've got to focus on what I really want and use the power of optismism to attract Mr. Right. It WILL happen, I just know it.
This was an eventful and emotionally draining weekend, and for a brief moment (approximately 1 hour), I gave up on match.com. But I did some thinking and I'm ready to get back out there.
So here's what happened...
Strike 1: Friday night, I had my first date with Whitey McMidwest. Oh man, over text message, he was the perfect guy. And I had really high hopes for this one because we really seemed to connect and, in his words, "it [felt] like we already [knew] each other." Our first conversation over the phone lasted for one hour! That conversation took place on Saturday, January 7th and we made plans that day to do dinner and bowling the upcoming Friday night. Each day following, Whitey texted me and we had riveting textersations. We seemed to have so much in common, including an intense love for the show, Jersey Shore. He would text me things like, "Friday couldn't come sooner" or "I can't wait to meet you" in addition to things like, "We should do this..." or "We should go there together..." Things that, as a vulnerable single woman who tends to read into things sometimes, I was weary of getting excited about.
I've been in the non-relationship before where the guy talks up all the great things we're going to do together and then dumps me for some unexplained reason (before, of course, any of those things ever happen). So in order to prevent myself from getting too excited about Whitey, I continuously responded to his comments of "We should..." with, "We'll have to see how Friday goes!" No one wants to set themselves up for disappointment. I've done it before and I am learning not to read into everything a guy says.
So, with that in mind, we meet for our date Friday night. We enjoy a nice dinner and split a bottle of wine. We have great conversation - talk, laugh, learn about each other. It's nice. I feel like it's going well. After dinner, we head to the bowling alley and we bowl two games. When our games are over, he suggests we hang out in the bar where karaoke is about to begin. We are having a fantastic time. He doesn't appear to be bored nor disgusted with me as a person. Phew! Then, nearly five hours after it began, we finally decide to end the date. As we walk out, he gives me a small kiss on the lips, tells me he had a great time, and that he'll call me. I leave feeling excited and optomistic. I am even more optomistic when he texts me to tell me he's excited to do all those things we had talked about doing "after Friday." I smile as I fall asleep.
Fast-forward to the weekend. I do not hear from him. I become Crazy. I am even crying at some points because I do not understand WTF is going on. Three days go by and I finally hear from him on Monday evening when I get this text: "I've been doing some thinking and I just don't think we're a good match after all. I've had fun getting to know you and wish you the best of luck!" Don't cry for me because here's the honest truth: when he didn't call me for three days, I already knew that that was the text I'd be getting. It's called Women's Intuition and it involves the sick feeling you get in your stomach when you know something isn't going right. Ladies, DO NOT IGNORE THIS FEELING! It is real! No, something didn't happen to his phone. No, he's not just busy with his buddies. No, he didn't die suddenly. No no no. He is just not that into you (even though the guy who wrote that book is an asshole, he's right!) And only God knows the reason why he's not into you. But don't obsess over that either. Just do what you can to overcome the Crazy, and then move on.
So after a few tears shed - not over a simple white guy from the midwest, but over the disappointment of another lost possibility of finding love - that's exactly what I did. I moved on. Final vote, obviously: bud.
Strike two: I went on a first date with Foody McGradSchool on Saturday afternoon. I was not feeling nearly the connection with Foody that I did with Whitey, but who am I to turn down a free meal, right? I broke my first date rule and agreed to let him pick me up because he was driving all the way down to Sunnyvale from San Bruno. I found this guy interesting because he had a very positive outlook on life and he seemed to be really spiritually centered. I find that attractive, as long as it isn't too in-your-face. When this guy picked me up, I'll admit that he definitely looked like he did in his profile pictures, except for the fact that he was probably 100 times skinnier. I have actually never seen a skinnier man in my life. He was a beanpole. When he turned sideways, he disappeared. I felt like a giant beast next to this guy.
Other than his lack of body fat, I found him to be attractive and genuinely nice. We drove to a local Mexican restaurant. He had a white Acura with Dr. Dre playing on the stereo and it was at this moment that some things he had said in previous conversations ("I grew up in parts of Daly City and Vistacion Valley, near Hunter's Point," and "Growing up in the projects..." - btw, this is the whitest guy you've ever seen) caused me to realize that this guy is San Francisco's Slim Shady. He even had the ghetto driving swagger down, with the seat tilted back, extreme lean to the right, resting practically the entire right side of his body on the center console (which, btw, put his head about two inches from mine), and just one arm - his left one - draped loosely over the steering wheel. Man, this guy really IS from the projects, I thought. Oh, and did I mention that he was practically sagging his jeans all the way down to his thighs? I could not tell if he was going for the gangsta style or if he simply couldn't keep his pants up on his 25-inch waist.
At the restaurant, we enjoy a lovely meal and talk about many things, including how we are both really, really RIDICULOUSLY good at Words with Friends. So he asks me what my user name is and we have been playing since that afternoon (I am beating him). We even have a candid conversation about what it's like to be on match.com, dating multiple people at once, etc. I like how honest our conversation is. After lunch, he drives me back to my place, gives me a hug, and we say our goodbyes. Overall, no sparks, but a nice date. Final vote: bud.
Strike three: As you may recall, this weekend I was supposed to have Date #3 with Flaky McTallGuy. Well, guess what? Yep, that's right - he flaked. I had pretty much decided I was over him by midweek when I hadn't heard from him. Then, Wednesday night, he sent me a message. We texted back and forth for a bit until he finally asked, "What time on Saturday?" I told him anytime after 5pm. "I have plans at 7," he texts back. "What about Sunday?" Seriously!? Ugh, this is the flakiest guy I have ever met! I agreed to Sunday even though I was thinking, "You are a loser and I am done with you." A couple of days go by until he texts, then calls me at approximately 11:30pm on Saturday night. I had just arrived home from my date with Whitey. He shoots the shit for a bit until I start yawning. Sorry dude, but I am exhausted and have to get up hella early for Saturday morning triathlon practice. He tells me he has some ideas for what we'll do on Sunday and that he'll call to finalize plans. "Ok, sounds good. Good night."
Flaky seems to know when I am on a date with another guy because that always seems to be the time he calls or texts. So just as my date with Foody is ending on Saturday afternoon, I get a call from Flaky. I don't answer, of course, but listen to the voicemail when I get home." I am not surprised by what it says: "Hi Natalie... I've been thinking about things for a couple of days now and I feel like there's sort of a friend vibe coming down and I don't know if it's just bad timing for me or what, but I think you're a great girl and blah blah blah..." And then, at the end of the message, he says, "So let me know your thoughts." REALLY!? What, like I'm going to call you back and say, "NO! There's no friend vibe! You must take me out on Sunday!?" Whatever dude. I texted him back to say, "I agree" and told him to have a good life. But what I really wanted to say was: 1) grow a pair and don't leave something like that on a voicemail; 2) I think you might be gay (for real, I need to figure out how to post a snippet of a voicemail); and 3) learn how to manage your schedule so you aren't so flaky, you bonehead. But I decided to be nice. This time. he did text me back saying, "You are smart, funny, and have a lot going for you. Take care." Barf. Final vote: bud.
So now you might be thinking - well, three strikes and you're out, right? That is EXACTLY what I was thinking. For a second, I was totally down in the dumps. I wanted to give up on dating, give up on men altogether. BUT THEN... Blondie McSmartyPants gave me some good advice. After showing me an excerpt from a book she's planning to read (My Half Orange by Amy Spencer, which I will be reading as well), she decided that our problem is not that we can't find the men of our dreams, but that we're not putting all of our effort into attracting them. And she's right. I've got to focus on what I really want and use the power of optismism to attract Mr. Right. It WILL happen, I just know it.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Hanging out the passenger side of his best friend's ride...
Ok, this was just bad judgment on my part.
So one of the first guys who emailed me on match – we’ll refer to him as Walks-a-lot McTexter – seemed at first to be a really cool guy. He sent a nice, normal email and gave me all sorts of compliments (clearly, I am easily wooed). So, as per my protocol, I gave him my number. Now, again, let me be clear that this is my own fault. I blame this entire non-relationship on my poor judgment. I’ve got nothing against this guy. He really is nice and completely unassuming and he even seems like he could – in some senses – be a very good boyfriend. However, with that said, I have decided to end things with him (before even meeting him. Is that bad?), and you’re about to find out why.
First, after I gave him my number, he – of course – did not call me, but instead sent me a text (problem #1). “Hi there, it’s Walks-a-lot from match.” After a couple of text exchanges (“I am good, how are you.” “Not bad. What are you up to?”) I ran into problem #2. After asking him what he was up to, he responded with: “I’m just at work watching football.” I am puzzled. It’s 8pm on a Monday night. “Watching football at work?” I text back. “Hmmm… What do you do?” “Sell team stuff in ALocalTown” What is “team stuff,” I wonder, and, Oh shit, I need to go back and check this dude’s highest education level. Problem #3.
My worst fears were realized. I am not quite sure how I missed this – maybe I was distracted by the fact that he was 6’4” and good looking? – but he had “tell you later” listed next to both his job AND his education level. Oy vey. Call me picky, but I just can’t date a dude with no college education! So one day during a typical textersation (he has texted me every day since the first day he texted, which was December 28th! And usually the texts start with “Hey,” “Hiya,” or “Hi”. Problem #5), I worked up the nerve to ask him about it. “I was just checking out your profile on match,” I typed. “Your job is listed as ‘tell you later’ – what up with that???” His response: “Because I work retail and 98.7 percent of women on there want guys who make good money, not for how good a person a guy may be :/ [sic]” Eeeek. I should have cut the cord right then and there. But I kinda felt badly for the guy, so I continued to let him text me on a daily basis. I mean, this whole time I knew I was going to have to break his heart one day, but I put it off thinking maybe he would get sick of me? (Impossible). So by this point, I am extremely bored with the textersations. I mean, seriously, are you mute? You are really THAT incapable of picking up the phone and calling me?
But finally, we get to problem #5 – the absolute worst of all, and in my opinion – a deal breaker. He finally gets up the nerve to ask me out for a drink. “It’s been long enough w/o seeing your beauty in person,” he types. Damn straight. So I respond with a suggestion of meeting up in the Cupertino/Sunnyvale area, since that is where I’ll be that night. “Would you mind meeting up in this area?” I ask. Brace yourselves for his response. You will be shocked: “This area as in TownILiveIn?” he writes. “I don’t drive member? Sorry to remind ya of my current short cummings :( [sic]” OK, so there are a number of things wrong with that text message, but – O.M.G. – let’s cut to the chase. “You don’t drive??” I text back. “You never told me that!” He tries to claim that he did and then gives me his sob story excuse. Not buying it, buddy. Bottom line… Ah helllllllll no. I do NOT want No Scrubs! How is this guy going to think it’s cool to date a girl without owning a car!? How is this guy going to think I am going to pick his ass up everytime we go out!? And, more important, how is this guy going to think I am going to pay for my own meals when he takes me (oh, excuse me, when I pick him up and take him) out for dinner?
Sorry, Walks-a-lot. But you’re outta here.
Final vote: Dud
So one of the first guys who emailed me on match – we’ll refer to him as Walks-a-lot McTexter – seemed at first to be a really cool guy. He sent a nice, normal email and gave me all sorts of compliments (clearly, I am easily wooed). So, as per my protocol, I gave him my number. Now, again, let me be clear that this is my own fault. I blame this entire non-relationship on my poor judgment. I’ve got nothing against this guy. He really is nice and completely unassuming and he even seems like he could – in some senses – be a very good boyfriend. However, with that said, I have decided to end things with him (before even meeting him. Is that bad?), and you’re about to find out why.
First, after I gave him my number, he – of course – did not call me, but instead sent me a text (problem #1). “Hi there, it’s Walks-a-lot from match.” After a couple of text exchanges (“I am good, how are you.” “Not bad. What are you up to?”) I ran into problem #2. After asking him what he was up to, he responded with: “I’m just at work watching football.” I am puzzled. It’s 8pm on a Monday night. “Watching football at work?” I text back. “Hmmm… What do you do?” “Sell team stuff in ALocalTown” What is “team stuff,” I wonder, and, Oh shit, I need to go back and check this dude’s highest education level. Problem #3.
My worst fears were realized. I am not quite sure how I missed this – maybe I was distracted by the fact that he was 6’4” and good looking? – but he had “tell you later” listed next to both his job AND his education level. Oy vey. Call me picky, but I just can’t date a dude with no college education! So one day during a typical textersation (he has texted me every day since the first day he texted, which was December 28th! And usually the texts start with “Hey,” “Hiya,” or “Hi”. Problem #5), I worked up the nerve to ask him about it. “I was just checking out your profile on match,” I typed. “Your job is listed as ‘tell you later’ – what up with that???” His response: “Because I work retail and 98.7 percent of women on there want guys who make good money, not for how good a person a guy may be :/ [sic]” Eeeek. I should have cut the cord right then and there. But I kinda felt badly for the guy, so I continued to let him text me on a daily basis. I mean, this whole time I knew I was going to have to break his heart one day, but I put it off thinking maybe he would get sick of me? (Impossible). So by this point, I am extremely bored with the textersations. I mean, seriously, are you mute? You are really THAT incapable of picking up the phone and calling me?
But finally, we get to problem #5 – the absolute worst of all, and in my opinion – a deal breaker. He finally gets up the nerve to ask me out for a drink. “It’s been long enough w/o seeing your beauty in person,” he types. Damn straight. So I respond with a suggestion of meeting up in the Cupertino/Sunnyvale area, since that is where I’ll be that night. “Would you mind meeting up in this area?” I ask. Brace yourselves for his response. You will be shocked: “This area as in TownILiveIn?” he writes. “I don’t drive member? Sorry to remind ya of my current short cummings :( [sic]” OK, so there are a number of things wrong with that text message, but – O.M.G. – let’s cut to the chase. “You don’t drive??” I text back. “You never told me that!” He tries to claim that he did and then gives me his sob story excuse. Not buying it, buddy. Bottom line… Ah helllllllll no. I do NOT want No Scrubs! How is this guy going to think it’s cool to date a girl without owning a car!? How is this guy going to think I am going to pick his ass up everytime we go out!? And, more important, how is this guy going to think I am going to pay for my own meals when he takes me (oh, excuse me, when I pick him up and take him) out for dinner?
Sorry, Walks-a-lot. But you’re outta here.
Final vote: Dud
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