Tag Archive: dating

I’m going to France in 4 days. Really. I’m going to climb inside a big-ass airplane on Friday evening, sit in my seat quietly freaking out for 7 or 8 hours as we fly over the Atlantic Ocean, and when I peel myself out of my chair early Saturday morning, I’ll be in Paris. There are probably 157 things I could be doing right now to get ready, and instead, I’m sitting here pondering screen names. Specifically, I’m wondering just what goes through some men’s minds when they are choosing their dating site screen name.

When I need to assign myself a screen name on a website, I typically have two that are my “go-to” names. The name that I use here on WordPress is Unruhe29. I chose it for a couple of reasons:

  1. Unruhe was the title of an X-files episode (and I do love me some X-Files!)
  2. The word “unruhe” is German for “unruly” or “unrest”. For whatever reason, I was feeling unruly and restless at the time I first decided to use it, so it seemed appropriate

As for the “29”, that’s probably how old I was the first time I made that my screen name somewhere…I believe it may have been on AOL Instant Messenger.

My other frequently used screen name is Eight6753oh9. To the untrained eye, that may just look like a mess of numbers, however, if you grew up in the 80’s as I did, you may remember a certain one-hit-wonder named Tommy TuTone, who sang about a girl whose name and number he found written on a bathroom wall. Her name was Jenny, and her number was 867-5309.

Maybe it’s just me, but when I’m looking at dating profiles, I will completely bypass someone if I don’t like the screen name they’ve chosen. Most of the time, this is because their name blatantly references sex or is just downright crude. Now, don’t get me wrong, I enjoy sex just as much as the next person, and I’m far from a prude (in fact, wherever Mr. Right may be right now, I sure hope he’s taking his vitamins – otherwise I may just be the death of him one day), but there’s just something about a guy calling himself “69Woody4u” that turns me right off. Even if they come right out and say in their profile that they’re looking for something long term, I’ve already gotten it in my head that “this guy is just out to get laid” and there’s no shaking that thought once it’s in there.

So in an effort to help educate my fellow man in the ways that a woman thinks, I’m going to tell you about a few of the screen names I’ve come across in my travels, and explain exactly why I wouldn’t approach someone with that name.

  • mywordislaw – Now, most likely the guy who came up with this one is an attorney, however, the first thing I think when I read it is, “wife beater”.
  • ladyinred1234 – Your screen name is supposed to describe YOU. If I see one that says “ladyinred,” I’d assume you’re A LADY. Same goes for any screen name that contains a woman’s name. I saw one the other day that was supposedly a guy, but the screen name was Alicia2468. I don’t know too many guys named Alicia.
  • any name with the number 69 mixed in – You’re a guy. You like sex. I get it. Really. I don’t need you to beat me over the head with your penis. If you’re sincere about trying to find a meaningful relationship with someone, try pulling your head out of your pants for a minute and focus on something else. If the very first thing I read about you is a sexual reference, I’m going to think that’s all you’re looking for, and I’m going to move on.
  • any name with the number 420 in it – I know what that means, pothead.
  • bend4me – I just saw this one today. I see that and think that this guy either wants a chick he can walk all over, or a gymnast. Either way, I’m not his girl.
  • cumaboard – Sorry, but I don’t want to think about you ejaculating when I haven’t even met you yet. There’s a time and a place, boys…a time and a place.

Tune in tomorrow, and I’ll tell you what else you’re doing wrong on your profile. 😉


I haven’t had any dates (good, bad or otherwise) or virtual altercations with anyone in a few days, which – while good for my sanity – doesn’t really help out when it’s time to come up with new blog material. As a result, I don’t have any good feature-length stories for you today. I do, however, have a couple of mini-stories that I shall string together and call it a blog. Enjoy.

  1. The Proposal

It all started with a 3-word message from a guy in Pompano Beach, Florida the other morning. It simply said, “You are awesome.” Well, hey, it’s about time someone recognized my awesomeness…the least I could do was check out his profile, right? I read it over, and found it to be mildly amusing, and his pictures were all fully-clothed with no extra appendages that I could make out. I figured, what the heck. Yes, sure, he lives in Florida, but hey, you never know.

[As a side note – it always makes me laugh when I see on a guy’s profile something to the effect of, “please be within a reasonable driving distance.” I want to email him and ask just what exactly he thinks the odds are that his soul mate lives within a 5 mile radius of his house. What if that one person that’s perfect for you lives on the other side of the country – or heck, on the other side of the world – would you not want to know him or her simply because it’s not convenient?]

So here’s how that conversation went:

FH (for Future Husband, of course): You are awesome
Me: And you are in Florida. Lol…how far is Pompano Beach from Cape Canaveral?  ~Jen
FH: 3,hours Jen please call me 555-555-5555 ~Bob
Me: Can’t right now, I’m on my way to work.
FH: Can you please text me
Me: What’s the rush? Are you stranded in a foreign country and in need of cash? Lol… I can’t text a lot at work, either. At least if I’m chatting on here it looks like I’m working on the computer. Lol …After hours I can chat or text, but if you don’t mind, I’d like to at least have a little conversation first so that I know I’m not giving my phone number out to a crazy person..unfortunately, I’ve made that mistake before.
FH: I am not a crazy person .I’m harmless. There is no rush .. but I do want to catch you .. (<—-exactly what a crazy person would say! And whaddya mean you want to “catch” me?)
Me: So, you’re not having much luck with the Florida girls, huh? How long have you been on here?
FH: One. Month .how about your self?
Me: About a week and a half. Hmm…some other guy in Pompano beach just looked at my profile, too…kinda weird, don’t you think? Someone you know? Lol
FH: No one I know lol..
Me: What are the odds? Is my name on a bathroom wall at the Denny’s there, or something?
FH: McDonald’s lol
FH: Jen I would like to meet you
Me: Do you come to Maryland often? lol
(And here it comes…..)
FH: Jen if you marry me I would move there
Me: Oh, well great, ’cause that’s not at all creepy. Can we maybe, oh, I dunno, meet once or twice before the wedding? Just for kicks?
FH: I would love to marry you
Me: Why? You don’t know anything about me.
FH: I know you’ll never cheat on me that’s all I need to know

I must just have one of “those” faces, for him to know that without ever meeting me. He messaged me again later in the day, asking me to call him, which I ignored. His account has since been deleted.

  1. The Prevaricator

There’s not really much of a story to this one. I am mostly just marveling at the large number of younger guys who message me on this site. I am 43. The a-hole from the other day was 33. I’ve even gotten messages from kids in their early 20’s. And yes, I can call them kids, because I have a 20 year old daughter. So there.

Today I got an email from a 31-year-old telling me, “Hey…So i am gonna be honest. I think you are beautiful and i like your profile. I really would like to get to know you. Perhaps we can chat and meet for coffee? Talk soon.” I don’t know about you, but when someone feels the need to tell me they’re being honest, my bullshit meter kicks into high gear. If you’re an honest person, you don’t have to announce it every time you speak.

  1. The Proposition

And last but not least…I got this charming message last night:

3SM (figure it out): would you be interested in having some good fun with a couple? if so let us know ttyl btw we do have pics of us too
Me: So what you’re telling me is that there are TWO of you who didn’t bother to actually read my profile. Thanks, but no. 

Can’t wait to see what tomorrow will bring! Maybe someone who wants to wear an animal costume and pee on my leg. That would be different.


About a week prior to my run-in with Super Douche the other day, I had an impromptu date with another gentleman from OkCupid. Ok, “gentleman” might be the wrong word. Maybe “asshole” is better. Yeah. Asshole. So anyway…

(I’ll apologize in advance here – if you’re friends with me on Facebook, you may have already heard a good bit of this story. Pardon my redundancy.)

I didn’t realize right away that he was, in fact, an asshole, otherwise, I never would have agreed to meet him. As it was, I went to the gym after work, and as usual, was starving afterwards. Asshole (let’s just call him AH for short from now on, shall we?) emailed me, and revealed that he hadn’t eaten yet, either, so we decided to meet at the Greene Turtle about 10 minutes from me. I will give him credit there – he lives in Annapolis, and considering it was already at least 9:30pm, he could’ve asked me to meet him at a more central location instead of offering to come to me.

That’s pretty much the only credit he gets for the entire evening, though.

My first clue that we might not be simpatico came before we even made it to the restaurant. He called to let me know he was on the way, and informed me that he’d just gotten pulled over because he’d accidentally turned on the (illegal) neon underbody lights on his truck. Um…who *has* those? The fact that he had illegal lights on his car wasn’t what bothered me (though I am at a loss as to why someone would intentionally put something on his car that he can’t ever turn on…that makes no sense to me), rather it was the way he told the story about what happened. Instead of just saying that the cop was cool about it, and let him off with a warning, he made it sound like the policeman was intimidated by him, and let him go because he is so big and bad. Can we say, “TURN OFF” boys and girls?

Because the Greene Turtle is kind of in a weird place and AH didn’t know exactly where it was, we met in a nearby grocery store parking lot so that he could follow me over. He got out of his truck to say hello and said something about how he usually wears contact lenses, but had decided to wear his glasses tonight. I said it was no problem, and that I wear contact lenses and glasses myself. He then proceeds to question me as to why I am not wearing my glasses. When I said that I don’t like wearing my glasses and that I prefer my contact lenses, he got this incredulous look on his face as if I were crazy to have such a preference. Little did I know, I would be seeing this same look from him every time I dared to have my own opinion (that differed from his).

We made it to the restaurant without incident, sat down and started to look over the menu. AH then proceeds to start talking. And talking. And talking. In fact, he never shut up from the time we sat down, until the time we left. Ever. I’ve never in my life met a man who talks so freaking much. The few times he managed to shift focus for a minute or two and ask me a question, I’d get halfway through telling my own story before something I’d said would spark a memory and he’d be off talking about himself again.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I’m all for having a guy who likes to talk to me. Communication is good. However. I also enjoy the occasional comfortable silence. And being able to hear myself think. And being able to get a word in edgewise. And maybe a little flirting. I’m just sayin’.

Even the fact that he talked (ALOT) could’ve been overlooked, if not for the absolute CRAP he was spouting. He bragged…constantly. About his 3 cars (one of them’s a porsche!), about making $80,000 last year while only working part-time, about his illegal wolf-dog hybrid…and every time he said something that could be construed as bragging, he would preface it with, “not that I’m bragging!” Um, yes. Yes, you are. Jerk.

If he wasn’t bragging, he was saying something completely stupid and/or thoughtless, or just acting like a complete know-it-all. Those of you who know me well know that I don’t let a lot of things get to me, and it takes a *lot* to offend me. This guy offended me or just said something so incredibly stupid so many times in the short time we spent together, that I lost count. Here are just a few examples:

AH: So, do you cook?
Me: No, not really.  I have a couple of things that I make well, but I just don’t really enjoy cooking. I’m better at baking.
AH:  (looking incredulous) Really? Wow. I thought all women could cook.
Me: Oh, ok, and that’s not at all sexist.
AH: I tend to date someone 2 or 3 months, and then I get bored. Then I just move on to the next one.
Me: Yeah, that’s probably not the best thing to tell someone on the first date.
AH: I used to only date really thin supermodel types. If someone weighed a little more, I would kind of make fun of them or be mean. I used to be kind of a jerk.
Me: Oh, really?
AH: Yeah, but I’m trying be a better person now.
AH: And someone older than me? Oh, I never would’ve dated someone older than me back then. No way. But now since I’m trying to be a better person, I figure it’s better to try different things and be nice to everyone. [He’s 33 or 34]
Me: You do know I’m 43, right?
AH: Yeah, but you look good for your age.
AH: (incredulously) You’ve never been on a jet ski?
Me: No…they look fun, though. I’d give it a try.
AH: Seriously? Have you ever even been on a boat?
Me: Of course I’ve been on a boat. What does one have to do with the other?
AH: What kind of boat?
Me: The kind that floats on the water. What kind of a question is that?
        Then later:
AH: I’d like to go downtown to the museums sometime. I’ve never been.
Me: You haven’t? How long have you lived in this area?
AH: My whole life. I don’t know where to park down there [in DC], and I’ve never ridden the metro.
Me: You’ve never been on the metro before? Really?
AH: I don’t know how to work the lines. Do you?
Me: Yes, it’s called a map. I can’t believe you’re giving me shit about a jet ski when you’ve never ridden the metro or been to the Smithsonian.
Talking about animals/pets:
AH: Male dogs only like women and female dogs only like men.
Me: What? No, they don’t. 
AH: I also do massage therapy on the weekends. Well, only when I need extra money.
Me: I see. 
AH: Yeah, and I can tell just by looking at you that you’re tense. 
Me: I am?
AH: Yes. Well, I could be wrong, but I can tell.
Me: (What? Uh, if you’re WRONG, then obviously you can’t!) Ah…
AH: I’ve been engaged 3 times, and I called it off each time. No one’s ever broken up with me.
Me: (Why do I find that so difficult to believe?)

Finally the meal was over and it was time to leave. (YES!) As I was getting in my car to leave, he once again felt the need to demonstrate that he was “the man” and I am “the little woman”.


AH: Why is your car shaking like that? Do you feel that?
Me: Um…because it’s running?
AH: Oh no, that’s not good, that’s [insert a bunch of crap here that I tuned out]…but don’t worry, I can fix it. I used to work on cars. I’ll get it taken care of for you.
Me: (Did he forget that we just met?)
AH: You should take those shoes off, too, and drive home barefoot. Those are dangerous.
Me: What? What are you talking about?
AH: The back moves. Just trust me. Take them off.
Me: They’re slip-on sandals. They’re fine. 
AH: No, really, it’s better to drive barefoot.
Me: That’s ok, My shoes are fine. Have a good night. 

I couldn’t drive away fast enough.

The next day he texted me a few times, and then called me while I was driving home from work. I didn’t answer, and he didn’t leave a voice mail. My policy on phone calls is that if you don’t leave a voice mail, it must not have been important, so I am not obligated to call you back…so I didn’t. Haven’t heard anything since. WHEW!


As part of my never-ending quest to find Mr. Right (or at the very least, Mr. Doesn’t Make Me Wanna Gouge Out My Own Eyes With a Plastic Fork), I seem to be on a quest to dip my toes into every cesspool of a dating site I can find on the internet. My latest foray is into the hell on earth that is OkCupid.

So far, the only redeeming qualities this site seems to have are that 1) it’s free and 2) it seems to be chock full of blog material. I’ve only been on it for a little over a week, and so far I’ve had a date with an a-hole, a marriage proposal from a guy in Florida, and a virtual run-in with someone who I will call Super Douche. He’s the one I want to tell you about first.

I was browsing the profiles yesterday afternoon while eating my lunch, when I came across Mr. Douche. OkCupid rates your compatibility with your matches, and Super Douche and I were only rated as a 10% match. I read his profile and didn’t see anything too awful there. He’s a pianist, which I liked, having a musical background myself, so I wondered whether there is actually anything to their scoring system or not. The only thing that gave me pause were his pictures. There were 3, all shirtless. The main photo was of him, shirtless, wielding an ax. Yes, an ax.

Am I the only one who sees the humor in this?

I decided that if nothing else, I would share the chuckle that his picture gave me, so I sent him a message. Here is the mayhem that ensued, copied and pasted, word-for-word:

Me: I wonder why we’re only a 10% match…maybe it’s because of the ax…lol

Super Douche (who for simplicity’s sake will from now on be referred to as “SD”): I would not rely on some mindless computer-generated so-called “match” as an indication of anything. You are giving it too much credence.

Me (ooook…lighten up, dude!): I actually don’t give it any weight at all. It was a joke about the fact that you’re holding an ax.

SD: An axe which I was using to chop wood – great exercise.

Me: Yes, I get that. Which is why it was a joke. Surely you can see the humor in using a photo like that on a dating site, where there’s no real way of knowing whether the person behind the profile is a nice guy or girl, or a serial killer. Anyway..sorry if I bothered you.

And here’s where it all starts to go downhill, folks…

SD: I understand that it was a joke, and I am aware of the fact that there is no way to determine the inner nature of anybody based on a photo. I also know that the instance of serial killers on dating websites, or anywhere for that matter, is statistically insignificant.

SD: I also do not think that using that particular photo is humorous, since I have received many compliments about it, and since it accurately depicts my physical appearance.

It’s lucky for him his photo is getting compliments, because I’m pretty sure his pissy-assed attitude isn’t!

Me: Ok, I think I figured out where that 10% comes in to play. Have a great night, and best of luck to you.

And that, my friends is called “waving a red flag in front of a bull”.

SD: I don’t need you to wish me luck, idiot. I find you rude and obnoxious. Feel free to compose a witless response. I have already blocked your sorry fat ass. Don’t think that just because you see that a message was sent on this webiste, that it was sent. Over and out.

Yet I’m the one who is rude and obnoxious? 

SD: Good luck going easy on those cookies, fatty.

Me: What a sweetheart. You’ll have no trouble finding a date.

Obviously it’s still bouncing around in that uptight, humorless, neanderthal brain of his, because 9 minutes later:

SD: I thought you attached no weight to matches, moron.

Me: Let it go and move on already. There’s no need to act like an asshole. You’re not interested, I’m not interested, the end. Geez.

Just in case anyone would like to send a message to Mr. Prince Among Men – because I’m sure he’s available, and not at all selfish in bed – his OkCupid screen name is novapianoman. I’m sure his sense of humor will improve once they remove the massive stick from up his ass.

Some days I don’t know why I even bother. I know the guy I want is *not* on this site. I guess it all goes back to my earlier list…1) it’s free and 2) great blog material. As a friend of mine said to me not too long ago, “You just can’t make this stuff up.”

Next time I’ll tell you about the a-hole and the marriage proposal. Laters!

Ok, so apparently I haven’t blogged since October. My bad. Uh…I’ve been busy?

Yeah, I know, that’s no excuse. As I recently told someone who tried the “I’m busy” line on me, “If you’re interested and want to keep the connection going, you would make the time, busy or no, even if it’s just a quick email or text to say hello. The more likely answer is that you’re just not that into me.” So there you have it, Reader, I guess I’m just not that into you.

Or maybe I’m just too damned lazy to blog.        <—-Folks, I think we have a winner!


As you may recall, match.com rewards those not fortunate enough to meet someone on their site in 6 months with…wait for it…6 more free months on their site. Yay! I happen to be one of these unlucky souls, and am currently in month 5 of my free 6 months. Thankfully, my year of torture will be up in June, and I can go back to ramming my shopping cart into unsuspecting men in the produce section of the grocery store to try and score dates. It has to be easier than this.

I pretty much figured out awhile ago that my ideal man wouldn’t be caught dead on an online dating site anyway – oh no, he’s much too busy being a decorated Navy SEAL by day, and saving puppies and kittens from burning buildings in his spare time…that is, when he’s not playing his guitar and singing me soulful love songs (hey, this is my fantasy, so just let me have it, will you?)…so, my profiles of late have taken a decidedly sarcastic turn, as I don’t really care at this point whether they generate any interest or not.

None of my friends really cared for my last profile all that much, which started out something like, “43-year-old bitter, sexless drama queen seeks angry, uptight a-hole for romantic, moonlit walks in the graveyard interspersed with drunken bouts of domestic violence,” and went from there, so I’ve decided to make them all happy, and upload a rewrite. Let me know what you think:

Ok guys, who’s up for a little pre-screening quiz? Please submit your answers to the questions below via email, so that I can get to know a little bit about you and the kind of partner you will be. Feel free to ask any questions that you may have as well. *Bonus points if your answers can make me snort my beverage out my nose.*

1. When it comes to sex, what is your “motto”?

a. “Every man for himself”
b. “Fake it ‘til you make it”
c. “Ladies first”
d. Other: ___________

2. What is your favorite movie genre?

a. Boring Foreign Films – the more subtitles the better!
b. Action/Adventure
c. Porn
d. Other:___________

3. If you could have one superpower, what would it be and why?

a. The ability to see through clothing – for obvious reasons
b. The ability to make women undress with the power of my mind – again, for obvious reasons
c.  Invisibility – this one’s not too difficult to figure out, either
d. Other:___________

4. In the event of a Zombie Apocalypse, I need to know that you’d make a valuable addition to my group. What would you consider to be your most impressive survival skill?

a. I can take out a zombie from 20 yards with nothing more than a rubberband and banana
b. I would fight to the death to protect you from the other post-apocalyptic survivors who are desperate to steal our supplies
c. I have a 10-year supply of liquor, chocolate and condoms stored in my basement that I’d be willing to share with just the right person
d. Other:___________

5. You wake up one Sunday morning to find a large, multi-legged insect clinging to the ceiling directly over our bed. You would:

a. Quickly and quietly slip from the room without waking me, leaving me to fend for myself
b. Shriek like a little girl and pull the covers over your head, begging and pleading with me to “SAVE ME FROM THE MONSTER!”
c. Carry me to safety before returning to the room to slay the demon
d. Other:___________

6. Our favorite TV shows air on the same day of the week, at the same time. We’re on our way out for the evening when we realize there is only enough room on   the DVR to record one of the shows. Whose show should be the one to get recorded?

a. We’ll flip a coin – it’s only fair
b. You would graciously offer to record my show, saying that it’s not a big deal, and you’ll catch yours on a re-run, knowing this would score you points and you’d probably get lucky later. Meanwhile, you surreptitiously watch your show on your iphone during dinner, hoping I don’t notice
c. You fake an illness at the last minute, so that you can stay home and watch your show while mine records.
d. Other:____________

7. Please complete the following phrases IN YOUR OWN WORDS:

a. A bird in the hand is worth __________
b. Don’t put all your eggs __________
c. Give a man enough rope ___________
d. If at first you don’t succeed, __________
e. It ain’t over ‘til __________

Someone recently told me that he got the impression I’m happy with my life the way it is, and that we wouldn’t make a good romantic match because of it. It appears that in my effort to not come across as desperate, needy and lonely, which I think would be a turn-off for anyone, I instead came across as not wanting the changes that someone new would bring. While it’s true that my life is pretty quiet at the moment, that’s mostly because I am lacking a partner to get out there and do the fun things with. I mean, who wants to go cow tipping alone? Those things are heavy! My point is, while I’m not deliriously happy at the moment, I’m content, and willing to wait for the right person. He doesn’t have to be perfect, he just has to be perfect for me. Send me an email, and let’s see…

So there you have it. My latest match.com masterpiece. So far all it’s gotten me is an instant message from some idiot in DC who wanted me to drive down there and have sex with him. I mean, for God’s sake, if you’re going to proposition me, at least be a gentleman and offer to meet me halfway.

…I just can’t hold it in.

Wow. Have you ever heard anything so romantic in your life? I know I haven’t. *Sigh*

Anyway, you may be wondering, “Hey, what’s with the obnoxiously cheesy (and borderline revolting) pick-up line, Jen?” Well. I initially logged on to tell you all about my date tonight, but…before I get to that, I though I’d first fill you in on one of my other recent Match.com adventures, the Stir Event.

Apparently Match.com has decided that it isn’t enough to simply feed all of our information into their ginormous database, and “scientifically” spit out a list of people who are ideal for you, allowing you to then sift through and send emails (for a small fee) to the ones who strike your fancy. Now, they’ve branched out into the real world, with their so-called “Stir Events”. These events can vary from wine tasting parties to cooking classes to unscripted and unformatted happy hours at local area bars. Match sends out invitations to a select group of people that they perceive to be compatible, and whomever signs up can go. The event that I signed up for was a free happy hour event at an oyster bar in Baltimore.

First of all, I believe calling it a “Stir” event may be a misnomer. To me, the act of stirring implies, well, stirring. Movement. Some sort of action. This event involved packing a large number of supposedly single people into a small number of square feet in the upstairs loft of the bar. While the idea of sardines in a can works with the whole fishy “oyster bar” theme, it doesn’t really make for comfortable mingling. Or moving. Or breathing.

Second, the woman to man ratio was probably a good 6 or 7 to 1. Good for you guys, but not so good for us girls. Maybe I should revisit the idea of moving to Alaska after all. Much better dating odds there for the fairer sex, or so I’ve heard. Too bad I hate cold weather.

My third issue with this event had to do with the selection of people that Match.com  chose to bring together, but also elected not to disclose until you arrived at said event. The beauty of online dating (in the beginning at least, while it is still online) is that if someone “approaches” you through an email that you just find completely unappealing, you don’t have to worry about keeping an impassive look on your face while you politely turn them down. You can just sent a sweet little, “thanks, but no thanks” email and be on your way. No one ever has to see the complete look of disgust on your face as you think to yourself, “Really? A 4’9″ octogenarian who lives in a nursing home and refers to his pet rocks as his children? Is this the best I can do?” With this event, everyone is there for the same reason, and they’re all checking each other out. The smell of desperation was in the air. I found myself afraid to look around, because you never knew when you might accidentally make eye contact with the wrong person, like the David Leisure wannabe with the slicked-back hair and tweed jacket. (Played Charley Dietz on Empty Nest in the late 80’s and Joe Isuzu in the Isuzu commercials in the early 90’s. If you aren’t old enough to remember either of these, first of all, BITE ME, and second, google him to see exactly what I mean. This guy could be his first cousin.)

I made the mistake of locking eyes once with this gentleman, and the blatant head-to-toe ogling I received still makes me want to go and take a shower, over a week later.

The idea behind the events is a good one, I think, but needs a little retooling. A more comfortably-sized venue for the number of people attending for starters. A sneak peek at the guest list would be nice, as well, because if no one that I’m interested in meeting is going to be there, why should I waste my time?

OH, and I almost forgot – the cheesy pick-up line. I took my friend Nancy with me as my wing-man (wing-woman?), and like any good wing-person, she came prepared to help out her socially retarded friend (namely me) by bringing a WRITTEN LIST of pick-up lines. While the list didn’t actually help me in my quest, it did give us some good laughs.

Anybody still with me? No? Is that the chirping of crickets that I hear? Oh, well, that’s too bad, I was finally getting around to talking about tonight’s date. I’m afraid I can’t give away too many details, though…first, because the judge has issued a gag order, and second, because this guy is smart enough to have figured out the clue to my blog address that I snuck into my match.com profile. (Unlike one idiot who emailed me and said, “I must be stupid, I can’t figure out what that means.” Yes, dear, I agree. Thanks for saying it first.) So, all you’re going to get, my friends, are some bullet points highlighting this evening’s dinner, in no particular order.

  • no pants
  • missing teeth – MANY missing teeth
  • chairs on wheels
  • banging dishwashers
  • chicken parmesan
  • a what? a hoagie?
  • the coveted headset
  • duct tape and ball gags
  • sweetie, honey, baby
  • a fork in a glass
  • and, lest I forget…minivan

Is anyone else as turned on as I am right now? (Mom, if you just said yes, please, please, please keep that to yourself. I’ve managed to go 42 years without needing therapy. I’d like to keep it that way.)

A …thank you. I had a great time. 😀

(and we both know what that A stands for, don’t we Sweetie?)

That picture pretty much sums up my match.com experience thus far. I’ve had a lot of “views” – many of them from men who are significantly older, significantly shorter or who live halfway across the country, or – winner! – some combination of the 3. Of the 16 or so who have “winked” at me (that lovely passive-aggressive way that match.com allows someone to say, “hey, I dig you, but only enough to click this wink button, not enough to actually take the steps to open up an email and introduce myself”), literally HALF of them no longer have active profiles, so even if I wanted to respond, I couldn’t.

I’ve actually gotten emails from a few brave souls. So far there have been one or two that I’ve conversed back and forth with a little – but nothing has progressed past that point. One seemed promising for a minute, but as soon as I posted a picture that showed me from the neck down, the emails stopped coming. Oh well, I never said I was a supermodel, boys…BUT…I’m 40 pounds lighter than I was 8 months ago, and next summer when I’m showing off my new bikini bod courtesy of a careful regimen of air, water, and Weight Watchers meals, well, you’re gonna be sorry you missed this train! lol…Ok, maybe you won’t be sorry, but I *am* going to get there.

Determined not to sit back and wait for my own destiny to knock on my door, I’ve even sent a few emails myself, learning several things in the process.

  1. Emailing someone to let them know you’re interested is *hard*. You’re putting yourself out there, knowing that someone on the other end is basically going to be pulling out their checklist of wants and desires to see how you measure up, and once you hit that “send” button, it’s out of your control. For a control freak like me – it sucks.
  2. Waiting for a reply also sucks. I’ve initiated maybe 4 or 5 emails so far to men who have caught my proverbial eye, and have yet to receive a single response from any of them. Not even a “no, thank you.” One of them wasn’t even an attempt at connecting. I said in the email that I didn’t think I met his criteria, but I wanted to let him know that he had a great smile and was sure he’d have no problem finding his match. No response whatsoever. If I received an email like that, I’d make sure to thank them for the compliment at the very least, if nothing else.
  3. The last thing that I’ve learned is that I am most likely trying to date out of my league. lol…as I’ve stated before, I’m no supermodel, so it’s unfortunate that I find myself attracted to tall, athletic, good-looking men. Ah well, you can’t help what you like, right?

If nothing else, my experiences thus far have given me a new appreciation for what men go through when they ask a woman out. It’s strengthened my resolve not to let an email go answered in my inbox, even if it’s only to say, “thank you so much for your interest, but I don’t think we’d make a good match.”

I’ve got 2 more months before my subscription runs out. I’ll let you know how it goes!