Muscles
Muscles was actually the first person ever to contact me on Match. He had the cheesiest fuckin' username and his arms were the size of the Hulk's, but in the beginning I didn't want to count anyone out. Plus, there was a certain satisfaction to having a guy hit on me that would no way have done so had he met me out at a bar. Anyway, as Muscles and I started messaging each other back and forth, it became abundantly clear that this kid was an idiot. He also was very old fashioned- not in a gentlemen way, but more so in a neanderthal way. As in, 'Me man. You woman. Woman cook for man then man watch sports while woman births children and irons clothes. Grunt, snort, burp'. The first question that he ever asked me was, "Are you domesticated?", quickly followed by, "Do you believe in God?". After giving him a hard no on both questions, he asked me for a picture. I told him no again. He asked me why. I told him why. Then he asked me to EMAIL HIM A PICTURE OF ME. I promptly stopped talking to him. Over the next few months, he would occasionally send me messages, sometimes saying weird things, sometimes saying means things, sometimes saying creepy things. I never responded and eventually blocked him from contacting me. At first I thought that this kind of guy was just an isolated incident, but I think we all can guess at this point how incorrect I was about that.
Goose
Goose was a red headed doctor from Canada. No easier way to put it than that. He had tried messaging me a couple of times but I ignored him because of the slight detail that he lived in an entirely different country. Eventually though, his messages became quite charming and I really dug his humor. So I threw caution to the wind and we started talking. We got along great and would Skype for hours on end. We even talked about him coming to visit one day. He was really into working out which normally isn't a huge turn on for me (a nice body is all well and good, but if you spend more time at the gym than you do with me, and your kitchen counters are lined with giant buckets of protein powder, we have a problem), but after he sent a couple (again, uninvited) pictures my way, I definitely recognized that his body was straight up hot. I even showed my boss one picture and she said, and I quote, "Oh damn, shit just got real".
But then the shirtless pictures kept coming. Then he would try to get me to throw him a bunch of compliments about how he looked (I told him when he sent me a picture with his chest AND face to prove it was him, I would tell him how good he looked. Shocker, I never got such a picture). Then I realized that not only did he still live with his parents, but that he had an unnaturally close relationship with his mother. Like, half of his pictures on Facebook were the two of them hugging each other. Then Goose started texting me a little less, calling me a little less, Skyping me a little less. I was not in the business of wasting my time, so I texted him one day saying that I was bowing out, and he never answered. So that was that.
Cupid
Cupid was a guy I probably should have cut my losses with at the beginning. I could never really get into him, but Valentine's Day was approaching and desperate times call for desperate measures. We started talking and pretty immediately got into an argument because homeboy apparently had no sense of humor. Regardless, we decided to meet for a drink. The day of the date, I tried contacting him to double check on the time and location that we had agreed on. No answer. An hour later I tried again. Nothing. Many hours later I got a text from him saying, "Hey, sorry about tonight. I took my dog for a walk and she ate some grass and threw up so I couldn't come out."
Ok. Let's break this down.
1) He lived his with parents (According to him, I was the idiot for having my own place in my late 20's, because apparently 'renting instead of buying is the most stupid thing a person can do'), so I'm pretty sure they could handle a little dog vomit, especially since their dog was one of those shitty little Yorkies.
2) When dogs eat grass, they puke. This is not a new revelation.
3) Why did it take him until almost midnight to tell me this?
4) Booooo, he sucks
He asked to reschedule the date for the following weekend, which was V-Day itself. I initially told him I couldn't because- well, to be truthful, the Big Time Ex had invited me over that night. The Ex ended up canceling last minute. Who's shocked? Anyway, I decided to use my single lady status to my advantage, so after my original plans fell through, I texted Cupid and said I was available the next night after all if he still wanted to meet up. He said absolutely and again, we set a time and location.
I texted him the next afternoon to confirm the plans. And guess what? Say it with me now: No answer. I tried again a little bit later and then gave up, calling my friend and inviting her and her dog over for wine and Chipotle. 4 HOURS LATER I get a text from Cupid saying we were definitely still on for that night. I told him I had made other plans when I didn't hear from him. He then said, "What the hell? I was taking a nap, it was only like 3 or 4 hours". I apologized but told him it was a no go. He tried to mend fences the next day but I was kind of dismissive. For a couple of months he would send a sporadic Facebook message or text saying the same thing every time: 'Hey stranger, remember me?'. I never answered.
Crazy Pants
You can probably tell by the name that this isn't going to end well. Crazy Pants was the first guy I went on an actual date with. He was very straight forward when we first started talking; he told me he was divorced, had a young son, and was pretty fed up with people fucking around with relationships. At that point, I pretty much agreed with him, so we agreed to forgo the weeks of messaging back and forth, and just meet up that weekend. At first I was excited because he seemed pretty nice and had these wonderful blue eyes, and he was a musician. Then things started to get weird. We continued to text each other while the day of our date approached, and he immediately started calling me Baby and telling me about our future relationship and things like that. Then he sent me a link one day, and it took me to his music page where he had just uploaded a song he had written about me- a girl he had never met. I considered canceling the date but then thought that if I didn't get at least one date out of the way, this whole online dating thing was turning into a waste of time.
The day of the date arrived and Crazy Pants began to live up to his name. I don't remember the specifics, but he started freaking out about something and started saying that he totally understood if I wanted to cancel and then he began putting himself down, and everything became a bit too much. But let's face it- when you have someone willing to buy you a dinner at P.F. Chang's, you don't back out.
The meeting time arrived and I sat in my car and waited for him to get there. About 15 minutes later he texts me saying he's waiting outside the restaurant. I walk over to see a hunched over blob of a man, with a knit beanie on his head, an open flannel shirt, and a black t-shirt covered in holes. On his neck was a tattoo that said 'I Love War'.
"Hi," I said, walking forward to give him a hug hello.
"Traffic was terrible!" he said, turning and walking through the front door.
"Was it?" I said, following him, "How long did it take you to get here?"
"Three hours."
Ummmm, what? Apparently, when he said he lived in Manayunk, what he meant was that he was soon moving to Manayunk from west of Harrisburg.
As he continued to complain, even though he had yet to even say hello to me, I walked ahead of him through the restaurant and sat at the table appointed to us by the waitress. We placed our order and then I spend the next 30 minutes straight listening to him complain. Complain about his ex wife. Complain about her current boyfriend. Complain about this girl he dated and that girl he dated- and he went into DETAIL-, and complaining about the entire gender of women in general. I sat there completely silent the entire time, eating my food, as the table next to us abandoned their food altogether and were blatantly sitting and listening to the disastrous date happening beside them. Around the time that he started telling me about the bedroom habits of one of the poor souls who was stupid enough to see him a second time, I had had enough. Now, I am absolutely not one to make any degree of a scene in a public place, but I was at my boiling point. I slammed my fork down into my bowl of rice and leaned across the table. In a forceful whisper, I looked Crazy Pants in the eyes and said,
"I don't give a shit about your ex-girlfriends. I don't care about your ex-wife and I don't care about her boyfriend. You're on a date with me, you're here to learn about me, to ask questions about me".
Crazy Pants looked shocked for a moment, before breaking into a huge grin and literally giggling, "Haha, you're funny".
As I explained to him that I was in no way joking, he eventually started including me in the conversation and the night got a little bit better. We finished dinner and walked out to our cars where he immediately began to smash his face against mine. I pulled away and told him I had to go.
The next day, I was driving my mom's car home from work, which I had been borrowing since my own car is pretty much useless in the winter. As I was passing the Willow Grove Mall, the car began to swerve and the steering wheel locked up. It was pretty terrifying, but I was so close to home that I thought I could make it. Turns out I could just manage to swerve into a conveniently located car repair shop about a mile from my apartment. I went in, handed them the keys, told them my name, and told them what had happened. Many dollars later, they told me the tension belt had melted and they would have it fixed by the next day. I then proceeded to walk the mile back to my house- literally uphill in the snow- with my computer and bag and all of my work stuff. I got home to angry texts from Crazy Pants, asking him why I hadn't been answering him all day and I was just like every other girl and yadda yadda yadda. I told him I had just had a terrible day and that he was too intense for me, and I wished him the best. He sent me a few more nasty messages and then went away.
Andrew Jackson
Andrew Jackson seemed promising. We started talking while we were both working from home one day during one of the big snowstorms. He was a little younger than I tend to go for, but he had a good job and seemed very genuine and nice, and was cute as hell. We met for a drink one night and had a fairly good time, although he was a little too soft spoken for my taste. He also spent the majority of the night asking me to tell him what the basketball score was on the TV in the corner. Still, I was considering it a good date until it came time for him to pay for the extra beers he had ordered after we had already payed for the bill. He looked in his wallet and asked if I could pay for his drinks because he only had $20 bills left and didn't want to use them. So I threw some money on the table and we left. Despite the money snafoo, we kept talking and agreed to go on another date, but both of our busy schedules kept making it difficult to find a free night. We kept in touch and I told my friend (the one who helped me set up my profile and who came over for Valentine's Day) about him. During this time, she was also telling me about a guy she was planning on meeting up with and asking some advice on him. One day, she and I decided to go through the guys we had been talking to online and make sure there weren't any cross-overs. Well, lo and behold, the guy she was supposed to meet up with was none other than Andrew Jackson. Luckily my friend is wonderful and she and I found the humor in the situation. She ended up texting him and saying, "Hey, I think you know one of my friends..." When she told him who, he never messaged either of us again.
Truck
Truck was an ex-Marine who drove a pickup truck. Anyone who knows me knows that this perfectly describes the majority of my ex-boyfriends, which probably should have been a red flag. We spent some time texting and talking on the phone before deciding to meet, and we agreed to grab a drink at what was quickly becoming my designated first date bar. He seemed really excited, which made me excited. The parking lot was absolutely packed that night and I had to sit and wait a good ten minutes before finally being able to squeeze in the smallest spot in history. As I approached Truck and said hello, he had this panicked look on his face.
"It sounds really loud in there." he said, his eyes darting from side to side.
"Well, let's go in and check it out." I told him.
"I have a problem with loud noises and crowded places." He said. Turns out, this poor kid had PTSD which made me feel just awful for dragging him to a bar- albeit unknowingly.
I asked him why he agreed to go to a bar if it made him uncomfortable and he said he didn't want me to think he was lame. We decided to check it out regardless but no sooner had we opened the door than he turned around and darted outside. After thinking of other places we could go, I brought up the fact that it was a Saturday night and everywhere we went would be crowded and loud. Then I thought of The Wet Whistle, which is pretty notorious for never being crowded unless some event was going on. Well wouldn't you know it, there was a high school reunion going on there that night. So Truck and I sat outside on the deck alone, freezing our asses off. First we went up to the bar where I ordered a drink, as he once again hung back.
"I don't drink."
I sighed and pulled out my wallet, grabbed my beer, and we went outside. We sat and tried to come up with some conversation, but it was just a disaster. After about a half hour he asked if I wanted to stay or go, and I told him I wanted to go. So we walked out to our cars and went out separate ways. Later that night he texted me saying he had a great time and wanted to kiss me goodnight. He sure could have fooled me because I don't think there were two people in the world that clicked less than we clicked.
Doctor
Doctor was funny and looked like a giant teddy bear and we got along great as we talked before our date. He had a cat, and I have a rule about never trusting a single man who owns a cat by choice, but I let it slide this time. We met for lunch at a Japanese restaurant about 4 hours before he had to go to work that evening. When I showed up, he was wearing his scrubs. Normally this wouldn't bother me, but we both knew that he had plenty of time to go home and change later, and that he was just wearing them to try and impress me about the fact that he was a doctor. Regardless, our lunch went great and we laughed and had a good time. Then as we were leaving I gave him a hug goodbye and he kept picking me up, which was weird. Like, really weird. I slithered out of his grip and went home.
From that point on, all this kid talked about was how he was a doctor. Like, full on bragging and big-headed about it. It got really annoying, really fast. It was as if he thought he was the only doctor in the entire world and it drove me nuts. We hung out one more time where he kept trying to get close, until I finally told him that I thought we were better as friends. He made up an excuse to go home a few minutes later and, once again, that was that.
Allentown
Allentown seemed promising. Really promising. We hit it off immediately and I thought that he was gorgeous and we just clicked to an insane degree. We talked CONSTANTLY. Before we even met we knew that something good was going to come of this. Before our first date I was so nervous because I already had such a strong investment in him, which is crazy to feel about someone that you've never met in person. I remember talking to the girls at work about him, and we spoke as if he and I were going to ride off into the sunset together. Our first date was great, with the exception of one flaw- Allentown had taken classes in stand up comedy, and he thought he was a hoot. He wasn't. But I looked past that and laughed at his terrible jokes and just went with the flow. It turned into a whirlwind romance and before I knew it we were talking about me moving in with him and making jokes about our kids. Everything just fit and I was in deep. Pretty soon into it, he started trying to make me say that I loved him (keep in mind, we weren't even an official couple). Part of me thought it was weird, especially since he really tried to push it, but the other part of me could see that happening soon. I finally felt comfortable enough about someone that I started telling my family and friends about him, with such excitement and giddiness that I barely even recognized myself. I just dug so many things about him; the way he had this mop of curly hair that would fall down into his eyes, the way that he would look at me and smile, the way that he owned his own home and had a great job and was a hard worker and was close to his family. During our time together I had tonsillitis and couldn't go up to his house to visit him like we had planned. I was crushed, but instead he came down to me and took care of me all night. But, much like Goose, as soon as it began it ended. Allentown was going for a promotion at work and had to take this day-long test that he had spent a full week studying for. He was a nervous wreck and turned to me for support which I whole-heartedly gave him. Then, the day the test was over, he was supposed to come over. He said he was exhausted so he would come over the next day. The next morning he said he couldn't because he was going to play baseball with his friends. Immediately afterwards, he began- as I have since learned it is called- "ghosting" me. Just completely checked out. Didn't answer calls or texts, bailed on all of our plans. This kid that was telling me that I loved him now had disappeared. So, again much like Goose, I texted him and told him that I was stepping away. He never answered, and the next day he was friends with 4 new blonde girls on Facebook. That one stung, I'm not going to lie.
Mustang
Mustang was young and new at Match. He was shocked when he heard I had been on for a few months, because he thought that you went on, met someone right away, and married them. He drove a Mustang which he loved (he said it was 'the coolest color'. It was black) because he was bald, but I hated because I'm a girl and no girl likes a convertible. I mean, our hair for pete's sake!
He and I got along well, but he was really into his band. He thought they were going to get huge and be super famous. After our first date he made me sit in his car and listen to their songs. They were...ok. Anyway, he was kind of overwhelming with the amount of texts he sent, and one day he came over and just went and took a nap in my bed while I sat in the living room, stewing over the fact that I was wasting an entire afternoon while some dude snored all over my pillows. I stopped being super responsive to his texts and he got mad and I told him that it just wasn't a good time for me. Then he said, "Whatever. Peace out girl scout", and I knew that I had made the right decision.
Pool Boy
Pool Boy spoke like he was on a job interview. He signed his messages with "Regards". But his pictures made him seem like a fun guy, and we got along well enough, so we went on a date. It was a little awkward at first, and it took him awhile to loosen up. However by the end of the night we were having a great time, talking about music for a good hour. When we left, he was a total gentlemen and didn't try to kiss me or anything. On our second date he seemed much more comfortable and I got to see his carefree side. We began hanging out regularly and things were really going well. When we met for our second date he gave me two mixed CD's that he had filled with the songs we had talked about on our first date, as well as other songs he thought I'd like. It was old school and cheesy and I loved it. Everything fell into place wonderfully and we would spend our days walking his dog or eating Wawa on my living room floor. He was very smart and also owned his own home which to me is obviously a sign that he somewhat had his shit together. Something that I thought was a little strange was that he spent- or supposedly spent- every free minute cleaning his pool. I had never seen him go in the pool, but it was spotless enough to eat off of the bottom. As time went on, we continued to get closer until he started bailing on plans to "clean the pool". I began to assume that 'the pool' had big ol' boobs was probably great in bed.
When I called him out on his new habit of canceling our plans, he FLIPPED out. We had this crazy conversation that made absolutely no sense, it was as if we were having two totally different exchanges. I thought things had ended on an ok, albeit awkward, note, but then he and I too just never spoke again. It was probably for the best though- he had very small, delicate hands and they creeped me out.
After all of these experiences, I think it was normal for me to wonder if I was doing something wrong. And maybe I was, who knows, but I really think that a big part of it is because the world of online dating allows such immense access to so many people, that it can be hard for someone to stay focused while there are gorgeous people constantly contacting them. I'm not saying that the person who strays is usually the one with a penis, but, you know, I'm also not saying that I was the one doing it.
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