Match.com Date Review: T

For reasons I don't fully understand, I decided to re-up my Match.com membership. (Quick tip: Sign up for a month, then go to cancel membership. When it asks why, click the box that says "I cannot afford it" and it'll then ask you "Could you afford it at a lower price?" Click yes, and it'll offer you 3 months for the price of 1. You're welcome) I have been a little down on Match lately because I haven't had much success of late. Which means I am holding something against them that is not their fault, I get it. Anyway, I decided to cast my line out there and try again. Within the first few days I began exchanging emails with T. She was my age, no kids, same education/sense of humor/religious beliefs....yada, yada, yada. After a week we begin exchanging texts and make plans to meet for drinks. We met last Thursday night and much to my surprise, she looked exactly like her pictures and conversation came easily! (Us veteran Match.comers know that these two attributes on a first date are kind of a rarity). The night progresses and all is going well, we laugh and talk about what we will do on our next date. We both had drinks but neither of us sloppy drunk, just slightly buzzed. As the night ends, I walk her to her car and she leans in for a kiss...which promptly turns into a full-blown make-out session. Finally, we pry ourselves apart and call it a night. We text Friday and Saturday and all is going well. Sunday (today), I received a text that says "I hope this isn't awkward but I went out on a date with someone else and it is going to progress. You are a nice guy. Take care." Yes, I know people date others and sometimes it doesn't work out when it feels like it should. But I can't explain why this one bothered me as much as it did. Maybe my sense of the entire situation was off or maybe she regretted kissing me after the date...who knows. All I know is this: I understand less about the dating world at 32 than any other time in my life. And really, I don't need to understand everything...I just want to know how to make it work. More than anything, I'm just tired of the dating carousel. I'd like to get off now, please.

I can't give it away these days...

In the past, I have written about being outgoing and shedding older versions of myself in order to meet people (read: women). The past four months have been among the oddest of my life, in summary:

-Added certifications to make me more employable (Which seems to have had the opposite effect)
-Pursed a job where I stay unsuccessfully sober and serve drinks to drunk chicks (Married, fat, old drunk chicks)
-Lost approximately 25lbs (No need for congrats here. When people congratulate you for losing weight, all they're saying is, "Look at you, being less disgusting and shit." 

In spite of all these developments, I have been on a dating/meeting women cold streak that I cannot fully explain. Over the past few years, I have broken many old self-defeating habits: avoiding eye contact, avoiding public places, and being too afraid to initiate conversation. I now believe I am a decent looking guy, with most of my teeth, no (domestic) felonies, and who may have something to offer to someone.

And I'm getting NOTHING in response. Polite smiles, thanks but no thanks, and the crowd favorite of being totally ignored. Even in the world of online dating, my batting average is worse than a gay Puerto Rican waiter (Shit...they play a lot of baseball in Puerto Rico...bad example). I send out my usual emails where I try and be funny and while I know that you won't hear back from all of them...a response from one out of 22 goddamn emails sent would be nice.

Match.com: The Log-in Game

As a savvy veteran of the Match.com world, I've learned many a difficult lesson about women who over-share, those who post old photos and etiquette about how to treat a one-night stand (always offer to buy her breakfast....I'm old-fashioned like that.)

But lately there is one I just started paying attention to: The Log-in Game. Let me explain:

Let's say you're seeing someone but you're in that weird/in-between zone (dates four through six) where you're cool and have no interest in dating anyone else but neither is saying if you're only dating one another.  You think you are but...well, no one has brought it up, likely out of fear of being weird about it. So with this paranoia firmly in place, you occasionally log onto Match.com and click their profile...and see that they've been on within the hour. Hmm...

From here, there are a few moves:

1) Douche Move: "I saw you're getting on Match, what's up? Are you talking to other guys?"
-This seems to work really well for the insecure ass-clowns. Not my speed.

2) Cool Guy Move: "So, umm, we're cool and all, but are we cool?"
-This isn't an awful move but eye contact and the tone of your voice are key. She'll either know that you're asking about your mutual status...or assume you're trying to buy weed from her.

3) No Move: No insertion of hilarious, cleaver, witty fake quote here. Nope. Just don't say shit.


No answers to this one for me yet...Unless...

What if she's getting on Match to see if I'm getting on Match?

Wow, man...that shit was deep. Maybe I should see if she will sell me some of that weed after all...

Fake numbers, no responses, and other shit these lesbians are pulling...

I wrote a blog post once called "The Stink of Failure" which looking back, had very little to do with that. It was more about trying new things, having some balls and making changes. It was awe-inspiring stuff...no really, go read it...

And I have been taking my own advice since becoming single again and most things have worked out pretty well. I'm training for a 5k race in May (I totally recognize that the fact that when one needs to train in order to run 3.1 miles is extraordinarily sad) and re-activated my Match.com account. But...

The results have sucked thus far. First, there was a girl we will call Katie because that's her name. We emailed, sent texts, and finally agreed to meet for coffee. Amazingly, things seemed to go really well; we talked, laughed, and seemed to have plenty to say for over two hours. At the end of the date, we hugged and she said, "Let's do something again, I had fun. Text me that you got home safe." And like a dumbshit...I did just that. I got home and texted her back saying that I did make it home, that it was fun meeting her, and that I looked forward to hanging out again. Her response: We're still waiting. That was FIVE FUCKING days ago. And thanks to iMessage and the "read message notification" I know she saw it.

A few days later, I met friends for a few beers and one of the girls in a neighboring booth struck up a conversation with me. Since we were all drinking I was funnier than usual and definitely more attractive. As we all prepared to leave, I asked to call her...she smiled, wrote down her number, and said, "That sounds like fun." Two days later I called...and got the voicemail for a guy who works for Consumers Energy. Double checked the handwriting and my dialing...

So here's the question: What in the blue fuck is going on?

To the first girl: It's cool if you aren't interested but don't fucking give signals like "We should hang out again" and "Let me know you got home okay" because that shit is confusing. I get not wanting to reject someone to their face but you know an even better option? Don't say anything other than "Thank you" and I will get the hint.

To the second girl: I had three beers but was by no means hammered (Oh, I'll show you drunk...) Is a fake number better than lying to me and saying that you have a boyfriend/girlfriend/transgendered partner? Or even easier, don't initiate the goddamn conversation. 

The obvious issue here: all these fucking lesbians leading on the straight men. Go play some softball and knock that shit off.

Epic(ly bad) First Date

So I re-joined Match.com and have been chatting with Sabrina; who is attractive, has a great job, and claims to have an amazing sense of humor. So plans were made for us to have drinks today. I walk in the door at 5:54pm (this will be important later)...

We meet and she actually looks like her pictures, which is a nice change of pace for me. But then something odd happens when I ask her a question about her Easter dinner, she answers it...with three fucking words, "It was fine." Hmm, okay, so I ask if she did anything fun while home with her family this weekend, her response "Not really."

And so it went for the next half hour, I ask an open-ended question and receive an answer that was anywhere from one to five words in length....followed by silence. I didn't even get the unimaginative follow-up question of, "What about you?" and even "You?" was too much to ask.

After 20 minutes of this, she finally offers "I don't have much to say sometimes." No shit Socrates, I did that math. I asked her if she wanted another drink, to which she literally shrugged her fucking shoulders, couldn't even utter a syllable. I took this as my cue, called for the check, paid it like an asshole, and mercifully, the date ended.

I got back into my car and the clock read 6:32pm.

The lesson here: If you're on an awful date, you know you'll NEVER see this person again and she offers to split the check...don't be an asshole...split the check.

Dating Advice: How to talk to Women

A few years ago, if you had told me I would ever write about talking to women, I would've assumed you meant comatose ladies or my grandmother. So why the sudden change? Did I learn a magical secret or a magic pick-up line that has them waiting around the block? Nope. What changed? The answer is two-fold:

1) I got older.
2) I stopped giving a fuck.

Here is a breakdown of my thought process whenever there was a woman I found attractive and wanted to talk to:

"Wow, she is hot." -> "I bet she has a boyfriend." -> "What would I say?" -> "You know, she probably wouldn't be interested." -> "Not only am I not going to talk to her, but I'm also relieved that I saved myself the rejection."

And you know what? I was right, I didn't get rejected hardly ever. I also spent a lot of time alone, bitching about not meeting anyone. I was SO afraid of being rejected that I didn't try unless I had a belly full of booze (In fairness to me, I'm a charming drunk).

In my case, I had already played out the self-defeating end that I often didn't try at all. I was so afraid of being told no to my face, that I didn't want to risk having my worst fears validated.

Anyway, this is a long lead-up to the point of this post: Here is how you talk to women:

1) Practice. Spent a day and talk to FIVE women you find attractive. This isn't to say you'll ask them all out on a date because you won't. The point is initiating a conversation about ANYTHING. Let's say you are shopping for groceries and you see an attractive girl staring at a product...make a comment, "I had those, they suck/were great." Did you actually try them? Fuck no. And while a small white lie, you opened the door. How likely is it you're told to fuck off and die? Not very. How likely is it that she smiles, says thanks, and moves on? 98th percentile. Damn good odds. The more you do it, the better you'll get...WHICH IS JUST LIKE EVERY OTHER GODDAMNED THING IN LIFE!

2) Say hi and smile. That my friends is the magic pick-up line. Not "You're as fine as..." or "You're so hot..." nope. Say hi. Then have something else to say, ideally not an ethnic slur and something relevant to something. Will they all go well? Not a fucking chance. You'll get blank stares, short answers, and sometimes generally bitch-like behavior. What do you do then? Smile, take a deep breath and move on...bullet dodged. Regardless of how "hot" a girl is, would you really want to be with someone who treated a stranger like that?

3) Worst case scenario: I went up to a girl once and she told me that she didn't date "bigger" guys (Read: lose some weight, fat ass). Honestly, this fucked me up for a while. It wasn't until I recounted this tale to a professional therapist who said, "Wow, what a bitch." She was totally right. What a bitch. Was the problem that I was fat? Sure, I could stand to lose a few lbs...but to respond like that? Wow, what a cunt. Is that a reflection on me or her? You know the answer.

4) Be polite and nice but give them a little shit. This isn't an invitation to comment on her fat ass or anything but I mean more like this: after she quietly disagrees with you about something "Thanks for screaming at me..." You know what she'll likely do? Go on the defensive and continue the conversation. If she flips out and causes a scene, you just saved yourself months of her being an uptight bitch in the event she DID like you back. Whew...bullet dodged.

5) If the answer is no, or blowing you off...fuck it, move on. Will you see this person every day? Nope. (Unless this is a boss or co-worker, then tread lightly...)

This a super cliche way to end this but here it goes: If you never try, you've already lost. Sure, it won't always work out, those are the odds of life. But if you never do, you'll never know.

Second, worst-case scenario: You flattered a pretty girl with a boyfriend, gained some experience talking to women, and maybe made a friend.

We aren't on this planet very fucking long. Don't regret not walking up to someone, smiling and saying, "Hi, my name is..."

Dating Advice: When it should be but isn't...

I write this as my buddy is in my apartment sleeping on my couch. He is a successful guy who has provided for his wife and children through hard work. And on paper, he married the ideal woman: attractive and from wealth. On paper, it all made perfect sense.

I met a woman a few months back who on paper, made sense for me. Low drama, attractive, kind considerate....really many of the things that most would look for in a partner. But for some (or many) reasons it just didn't work. I spent lots of time trying to convince myself that it should work and that at 31 I needed to buy-in, but I couldn't.

In the past, I fell victim to the idea of "good enough". There were times I wasn't happy but because an attractive woman wanted to be with me, I ignored many red flags. As a friend once said, "You start ignoring red flags and one day you look down and see a huge pile of red flags..."

So why doesn't it work? More importantly, when it doesn't with someone it should, why do we blame ourselves? In my case, I felt bad that I didn't like my ex as much as she liked me. I've been ruined by the few "sparks" I have felt with someone in the past. You meet someone and know in an instant that there is something there. Your heart races, you smile and blush a lot and start thinking crazy thoughts about what your life would be like with this new person. In short, it can be amazing.

But...there are the other times. We get lonely. We questions our self-worth and in turn think "Why would anyone else love me?" So we go back to bad relationships, forgetting the awful past and romanticizing the good times. We seek out the bad people who we know will accept us. We take the easiest road and open ourselves to more pain.We go back to the people who have hurt us, essentially asking, "Thank you sir, may I have another?!!?"

The point: If you're with someone and you know it isn't there, don't hang on hoping for change. Hell, none of us should expect change. We need to believe in ourselves and look for those who ignite that spark and bring out the best in us. It may be time consuming and lonely at times but we owe it to ourselves to no longer take less when we deserve in a partner. Let's be decent to ourselves.

Review: OkCupid.com (I'm going to hell...)

So I passed this AMAZING blog idea onto my good friend Katie of http://gingermaryann.wordpress.com/ and she totally passed, so I am taking this ball and running with it. Ok, more likely that I'll run really fast for 20 yards, then slow down, then take a break, and finally jog slowly after remembering that I am wildly out of shape.

Anyway, based on the page views I get it appears that people only give a shit when I write about other dating sites and porn. (Side note: Apparently, I'm HUGE in Turkey. So to Turkey, I say, "How do you doin', Turkey? Look at you being Muslim but not being dicks about holding women back. Plus, democracy, not too bad, right?)

Anyway, my review of OkCupid:

This isn't the first time I have been on this site. A few years ago I was on and met a lady. And by "met" I mean she said hi and started sending me naked pictures. I'll be honest, up until this point I wasn't entirely sure women like this actually existed. We finally agreed to meet for coffee on a Sunday morning. Within an hour we were headed back to my place and had some sexual relations. And within an hour of that, she was headed back home...we never spoke again. Weird? Fo sho. Random? Yup. Cool? Kinda, but it was in my "Top Five Weirdest Moments Ever."(Also included: the time I accidentally touched Sponge Bob Square Pants inappropriately and night in Vegas that involved three different continents). 

Since Match.com costs money and I'm without a job (thanks for fuck-all, college degree), I decided to explore the free options. I'll say this for OkCupid: it's not PlentyOfFish.com (later post). OkCupid makes you set up the standard profile with a picture and asks you questions about yourself. After you answer 25 of these questions, the website generates a compatibility percentage for you and gives you three matches (aka The Quiver). As you answer more questions, the site reveals how compatible you are with each person, which is kind of cool.

What the site also tells you are the chances are that your "Match" will reply to your message.
In short, welcome back to Middle School, Motherfucker. You can read a profile, like someone but see that they are "VERY selective about who they respond to". Well hell, I was feeling good until I read that bullshit. So like it or not, I factor that in before messaging anyone.

And here is where shit gets weird: I see a girl I went to high school with, which unto itself, isn't very interesting. That is until I remember that she is the girl who my buddy, Mike, lost his virginity to. Suddenly, my mind, which has been battered by poor decisions and alcohol over the years, remembers every goddamn detail of them having sex. She liked sex in public. She liked sex often. In summation: she liked to hump. A lot. At 31 years old, I should be able to think about something other than that, right? Nope. I eventually decide not to message her because the word is that Mike has warts on his ding dong. Is it true? Were they from her? Does Mike like Asian whores? I could not produce answers, so I decide to move on.

Anyway, the site is okay but I have no idea if it produces results other than random coffee shop sex.

You're probably thinking, "Wow, pretty shitty review...seems like nothing more than an excuse to tell a story about some random sex you had and to talk about a girl from high school..."

Hi, have we met?

Stir events by Match.com - Part Three: This is starting to get sad

For reasons I am still trying to understand, I decided to make a third trip into the wilderness that is a Stir event by Match.com. If you are new to my exploits in this arena...well, if I knew how to link shit, I would do so now, but I don't. Either way, they are there under previous posts. But to summarize:

1st time: Met up with my friends girlfriend, who wasn't exactly acting like she had a boy friend.

2nd time: Came with friend whose now ex-girlfriend was there last time. Met someone but after 3 months, that relationship came to an end. Why you ask? She didn't read so good, or at all really. She shared intimate details of our sex life with her ENTIRE family (mom, dad, three sisters). And finally, when we had a disagreement once (not a fight, no voices were raised, no names were called, no accusations were made) she responded by curling up into a ball and sobbing uncontrollably for an hour.

And well, the other night was the 3rd trip to Stir.

I decided to fly solo this time, since my buddy has found himself a girlfriend and I couldn't beg anyone to come with me...you know, I had options n' shit.

Now a veteran of these events, I left with many observations and what-not:

- I saw drunk girl dancing alone, again. She has made appearances at the other events, always shit-house drunk by the time things began and hitting on every guy there. The weird thing? She's very attractive. I couldn't tell you if she was smart or not because she slurred like a stroke victim. Either way, glad she was there.

- 40 year-old dude wearing a baseball cap was there. Listen Billy Jack, every knows you are bald, it's cool. You are fooling no one with the hat. Either shave your head or take the goddamn hat off.

- The husky Indian chick (convenience stores, not casinos) who I made every attempt to escape the last time I there and actually asked "Why did we never hang out?" The reason why not doesn't matter, you being a glutton for punishment is what fascinates me. Do you remember being dismissive of what I did for a living? Or telling me dumb people watch TV, after I told you I loved TV? You fall into one of two categories: liar or stupid, which is it?

- Many people cannot take a hint. Lucky for me, I learned early on when women weren't interested in me (Ok, it was 7th and 8th grade dances and the fact that any girl, let alone a mildly attractive one caused me to sport a boner hard enough to cut glass. So looking back...yeah, that was probably a factor.) But I watched men and women continue to bombard the opposite sex with questions when that person was making it painfully obvious they were not interested. I commend persistence, this isn't to say I understand it, but it is respectable. Either way, raise the self-awareness a touch and move on.

Anyway, my night ended with no real prospects on the horizon but I did get a blog post out of it.

More importantly, I'm curious to hear about the experiences that others have had at these events. Leave a comment and go wild, spare no embarrassing details. Note: it will show that I have to approve all comments now because some ass-clown posts spam ads for boner pills on everything I put up.

To this person, who speaks English as well as a Vietnamese hooker: I hope your grandmother is attacked by an AIDS infested wolverine, you pathetic shit.

I'm me...and other reasons I'm an ass

If you ever want to know what someone REALLY thinks about you, just break up with them. Within a matter of minutes, that person is more than willing to share every flaw you've ever had, or they thought you had. Few too many pounds? Listen up, fat ass. Too sarcastic? You're dead inside.

(Not saying these aren't accurate...hell, she is likely smarter than I thought...)

So what did I really learn: knowing when it's all wrong is just as important as when it is going right. Sure. given that I am 31 going on 14, my opinion on life skills is questionable at best...but...I feel confident about this one.

I couldn't say one thing wrong with my ex...oh sure if you want to bring out the bleaching, or the fact that she didn't read so good...you could have a point. But the fact remained that she is and was a very nice, sweet, caring individual. So in the name of journalistic integrity, I asked the most unbiased person I know...my mom.

(Full disclosure: If I decided to murder 13 slow senior citizens with a soup ladle next Thursday, my mom would be first in line for visiting hours the following week.)

Mom's take: "Well...you're a person who needs...space. And you need a person who doesn't need your input. Well, you're going to give your input but that person shouldn't care what you have to say."

That is from the woman who gave birth to me. 

The point: After several months in a serious relationship, I can't say that I know what a great relationship is but I know what it isn't.

Most importantly, mom said I'm very handsome.

Baggage v. Knowledge

I was initially going to title this one "Beast of Burden", then I remembered that I hated that Rolling Stones song. And it didn't mean what I thought it meant. Thanks for nothing, books.

I have a friend that I work with professionally but we never talk about work. This isn't to say work isn't important, God knows it is, but we avoid that shit. No, we talk about relationships, our involvement, and how we've played a role in fucking them up. Oh sure, we take time to spread around the blame but usually it circles back around to the real problem: us.

The problem, in both of our cases, in the past. This is often referred to as baggage and as cliche, as it has become to say we all avoid it, we cannot. Yes, we all have a past but I've learned that my life experiences, which for good or bad have shaped me; are officially the problem of the next person I date. I have an ex-wife, a strange childhood, and other fucked up shit that I eventually place upon someone else. It's not really a question of when it happens (Week 11 if you're scoring at home) but when. 

On the other hand, an optimist would say that yes, I have made my mistakes but they've made me the man I am today and I am better for them. I was able to take lemons, squeeze the shit out of them, and bitter lemon juice, with seeds and shit. Anyway, these are my past and apart of my story.

The point: another relationship is about to come to a close, and depending on which paragraph above you subscribe to, the fact remains that yes, I am the problem. This is a perfectly nice, sweet, considerate, attractive individual and really, I don't have one great reason. We all have some foibles that society has deemed undesirable (looking at you, anal warts), but this three-month-long relationship is about to end because more than anything, being with her reminds of my being married to my ex-wife. I wish I could run her down, make disparaging remarks about the cleanliness of her vag...but no, being with her brings back bad memories from the past.

Shallow? Maybe.
Immature? Likely.
Oblivious? Not the first time.

So I'll move on, with questionable reasoning, onto whatever is next.

Funny...as I wrote this, there is a Todd Snider lyric that continued to bounce around in my head:
"But I feel like I oughta be praying or something; And I have no idea what to say"

When it goes...right?

My friend, Kate (http://disappointedlove.wordpress.com/) and I had a funny exchange on Facebook chat last night. The crux of the conversation was this: why is that when those of us who have written extensively about relationships, dating and everything else get into a relationship...well, we run out of things to say. One of my finer qualities (other than my unnaturally huge dong) is my ability to bitch and complain. Hell, if I ran a country bitching and complaining would be our national pastime.

But now I am in a relationship and things are good. As much as we all enjoy the newness of meeting someone, I am enjoying being comfortable and myself with someone. And that person, for whatever reason, digs me.

You know that you've been in bad relationships before when you're overwhelmed by the basic kindness shown to us by others. Small gifts, considerate gestures and many other little things I missed along the way when I was younger.

I don't know where this is headed but I know I am enjoying the ride. A younger version of my (still well hung) self spent time seeking perfection in someone else because of my own insecurities. But now? I seek comfort, kindness and quiet.

(But seriously...it's like a Pringles can down there...)