Straight Jacket Jeff

Jeff and I started communicating – pretty heavily – straight out of the chute. Rapid fire progression – email – to IM – to phone calls & texts – right away. I’m a fan of unbridled enthusiasm so, the eagerness was okay with me. It was Christmas week and apparently, his office was closed down for 2 weeks leaving him with all sorts of free time. I, on the other hand, had to work both weeks, 3 days each week. We spoke about many things – like: he was the father of a boy that lived up north. He proudly declared that he paid $750/month in child support. He asked me about my situation which is, my son’s father lives in FL. I informed him that I do not receive support because my Ex is a complete loser that can’t hold a job and has perhaps sent me a total of $1,000 in the last 11 years. I tried explaining that I have pursued the issue but, it’s like getting blood from a stone. I also assured him (for whatever reason) that I make a decent living and that my child wants for nothing. I found it odd that Jeff was so interested in my lack of child support but, “whatever!”. Jeff expressed exhaustion and disillusionment with online dating and had in fact, resigned his account the day after we first spoke. He said he wanted a “real” woman – and no more “games”. Sometimes he would go off on tangents, but I blamed my sometimes poor listening skills for not being able to follow. We texted a bit throughout the next days, which I like – to a certain extent. He called me at 9:00pm on Christmas – which I didn’t like (I let it go to Voicemail). Perhaps I have a hang-up about Holidays being the domain of those we actually “know” (vs. those whom we have yet to meet face to face in a first time, online dating situation). But being ever-forgiving, I overlooked what I regarded as an intrusion on my family’s evening. We texted playfully the next day – he was having family over for a bbq. I offered that we should meet the next day – Sunday sometime. He said he was busy. I told him that I wouldn’t be available again until Friday due to work and other obligations. Then I received what could only be described as a “tirade text”. “See…this is what I’m talking about. I’m so sick of all these games women play. I’m looking for a real woman. This is so typical.” (I pictured him frothing at the mouth while texting furiously) I felt the urge to defend myself: “I offered Sunday but you are busy. It’s the holidays. Don’t be mad because I’m busy – that’s stupid.” His frothy retort: “Yeah…this is typical. I need a real woman that can handle real life. I’m so sick of the games.” It became immediately clear this man was one taco shy of a combo plate. I wrote: “Thanks for the heads up. You might be insane.” His response? Wait for it… “I’m not insane. I pay my child support.”
Oh snap! He got me there…

Meal Ticket

Jay’s profile was great – funny, sarcastic, witty, smart. Me likey. According to his photos, he was decent looking with a normal build. We exchanged a few emails and then spoke on the phone. On the phone, he was hilarious. An awesome sense of humor goes a looooong way with me. We arranged to meet at a halfway point – a moderately priced Mexican restaurant in Manhattan Beach. I sat with my margarita as he approached. Well…his pictures didn’t lie…exactly. Jay had a honker you could park a truck in. Wow. Amazing how the right camera angle (exactly straight-on) could completely mask this. While his shnoz was disproportionately large for his face, it really didn’t matter to me. Really! He had a nice smile and quite a cute face. The beak was acceptable. What wasn’t acceptable was Jay’s obvious self-consciousness. On the phone, he was cool, confident and witty. In person, his was uncomfortable and appeared to wither before my very eyes. I could only assume it was because of the honker. One could say he saw my reaction to his nose but - I swear I did not grimace or recoil upon its arrival – I swear! We sat down for dinner and had a nice conversation but, talk about someone uncomfortable in his own skin! It was painful to behold. Now, one has to wonder…if there is some physical feature that you loathe and is correctable by surgery, wouldn’t the person correct the offending natural glitch? Personally, if I had giant nose that I hated and if money were an issue – I would work three jobs until I had the cash to fix it. Granted, I was assuming Jay’s discomfort was because of the nose – he had no other reason to be self-conscious – why wouldn’t he correct it? So anyway, dinner was finished, the check came and Jay paid. I don’t customarily offer to “go Dutch” unless I feel certain the date was a complete dud which, in my opinion, it wasn’t. He walked me to my car. “So, would you like to go out again?” Jay asked. Surprised by this (not too many men go for the gusto like that), I replied with a smile “Yes”. Then he surprised me even more by saying, “Do you mean it or are you just saying that?” I was taken aback. Was this the Shnoz talking? I stammered “Uh…yeah”. The insecurity of this question coupled with his body language (hands in pockets, shoulders down, looking at the ground) spoke volumes. This time, I was “just saying that”. Let’s face it, insecurity isn’t attractive.

The next day, Jay called. He asked if we could go out again. I had already made up my mind that I didn’t want to. I tried to be gentle. I took the honest approach (big mistake). “I don’t think so, Jay. You’re a really nice guy and so funny and interesting but, it just seemed like you were very insecure.” Ouch? I continued with what I call “the coach-approach” (patent pending). “You really shouldn’t feel insecure. You have a lot to offer and you have a great personality.” I know, I know. Don’t say it. This was a bad move but honestly, I wanted to help. He mumbled something about not being insecure. We hung up and I felt rightfully guilty. The last thing I want to do is hurt someone’s feelings.

The next day Jay sent me an email. He said I was one of those women who went out on dates to get a free meal. No, I’m not joking. To endure the stress of what is essentially a blind date – just to get fed? Seriously?

This story is from about 7 years ago. I have since learned (in my extensive dating travels!) that there are in fact, women who do this. I’ve heard tales from men of women that insist on going to expensive restaurants and then order the most expensive thing on the menu. I’ve heard this over and over again. Maybe it’s just one woman in L.A. County giving us all a bad name – but I don’t think so. It is this incident that has inspired some loose policies of mine: 1) Offer to meet for coffee, every time. If he offers a restaurant – then it’s his idea, his dime. 2) Shit-can the honesty. It hurts. I’m not being helpful.

Passed

You’ll read the statement “photos must be recent” or the like, for good reason. I myself am guilty of using a couple of older pictures – but just because they are fun (me with a llama, riding a camel). It should be noted that I also include a few other new shots of me in my profile and don’t use any of the older ones as my main picture. But time and time again, I meet men that have either posted older (thinner, younger) pictures or have suddenly morphed into a fatter, older man before coming out to meet me. Here comes the disclaimer: I am not thin, so I have nothing against a chubby man (in fact, I prefer bigger to thinner) and God only knows I am have not managed to dodge the aging process. The problem is the dishonesty. Plain and simple. They try and pull a fast one in hopes of ....what? Hoping you will overlook this deception by becoming so enthralled with their sparkling personality? Uh… no.

This brings me to my most recent experience (one of many I’m afraid). Lee. In his picture, I could see he had that cute scruffy thing going. Not handsome but, cute (like a ratty teddy bear). He seemed to have an easy going way, which I also like. We exchanged a few rapid-fire emails, then moved to texting (seems to be the way it goes now). We’re both Libras, 2 weeks apart in age. We both like art and music. No kids, no ex-wives. Then came the first bombshell……wait for it……he’s an “Actor”. Yikes. Second bombshell….out of work (shocking!) Actor that supplements his income bartending but now that’s dried up too so now he………..drives an ice cream truck in the Valley. I’m so forgiving that I actually found that endearing (at least he was underemployed instead of unemployed). A few more texts brought us on the subject of appearance and weight. He told me he’s put on some weight lately. I didn’t want to sound cruel so, I said it was no big deal. I’ve loved ugly men and beautiful men – it’s chemistry - that elusive and precious thing, that attracts. I was a little put off when he called, then texted when I didn’t answer at 10:30pm. I don’t like contact past 9:00pm – maybe I’m too rigid?

Anyway, we planned to meet the following evening for dinner (his idea – I would prefer a coffee or drink). We met at P.F. Changs in Manhattan Beach. He was waiting for me inside when I arrived so I could receive the full brunt of the final bombshell…the girth! The belly! The gut! Sweet Jesus! This wasn’t chubby, this was obese. This was an obstruction for lovemaking. This was a health concern. This was….just not right. We sat, we chatted. He even asked me, “so, am I too fat and disgusting for you?” What was I to say??? I’m a polite girl! Yes! Yes!! I told him to drop the weight subject. The waitress came and he pompously ordered a glass of “house Pinot” and I, a mojito. When the waitress brought a glass of Pinot Noir he returned it telling her he wanted the Pinot Grigio. When she walked away, he told me she should have known better because it was Summer. That dictates the imbibing of Grigio, not Noir. Oy. All these bomshells dropping in my head started to sound like WWIII.

The evening dragged on and on. Lee’s personality kept getting worse. He says he was born to be an actor and was proud of his extra work. He shrugged off materialism and was content to have a car that just gets him from A to B, even though that car got repossessed last year. (He has since bought another car, obviously) He was pompous. He was unsightly. He was the ultimate Loser. He also wasn’t reading my signals – the ones that said, “I’m being polite, but I can’t wait for this evening to end”. He commanded, “Don’t you dare touch that check!” before he went to the restroom (like I would foot the bill?!?) though, in retrospect I should have insisted that I cover my soup and drink – he ordered 2 entrees and wine.

He walked me to my car. When we arrived at my car, he did the whole “leaning against my car and waiting for something" trick. He took my hand. I shook it. Apparently that wasn’t what he wanted. I then hugged him (difficult with the belly) and backed off quickly. He then asked me if I wanted to see him again. Christ!!! Was it not obvious?!?! I hate to be confronted like this. Lord knows I would have written him a polite email explaining our lack of compatibility, but noooooo! Disgusted that a man could live 40 years and be this oblivious, I shirked my usual politeness and asked him, “Do you want the truth or do you want me to blow smoke up your ass?” Clearly surprised, he opted for the truth. I told him that he was nice but wasn’t my type. I left it at that. To elaborate would be cruel and that’s just not me. Plus, he might be psycho and kill me.

On the way home, I received a lengthy text about how unexpected my rejection was and how I wasn’t able to get “passed” (not past?) his appearance. He also said I should have paid my portion of the check. (A mistake I won’t make again) I did not reply (what was I to say?). I forgot my phone at home the next day which worked in my favor because he sent 3 more texts asking me to give him 3 reasons why I rejected him. Yes! I’m serious! I refrained from replying and pray I won’t hear from him any more.

A Guest Post! Fabulous!!

This is a guest post by an adorable, sweet Czech gal (27, blonde, gorgeous) that has visited and stayed with my parents many times. It comes as a great relief to me that even gorgeous, young things aren't immune to bad dates. Here we go:

One bad date..
I met this guy at a Halloween party last year. He was good looking and nice - on the first sight. I must admit I prefer tall guys and this one simply agreed with my wishes of „guy´s good visage“. I talked to him just for a while. Maybe its time to say that it was a pretty noisy party and we didn´t hear clearly each other. He was a lawyer. Finally I met someone interesting, I thought. After lots of my unsuccessful experiences during that vacation I decided to ask him quickly for his number and gave him mine promptly, as well. But we didnt have much chance to talk more. Now I know I should have marked the fact that he was the only one without a costume that night…

He called me next day as he promised. I knew he lived on the other side of the city, so we couldn´t met until the weekend. He was gruff and close-tongued in the phone. He asked me a bunch of questions (do you have any pets home, are your parents still together, whats your horoscope sign like etc.). I remember I was a bit stressed by this conversation, especially when there wasn´t any funny moments at all. But I thought he might be nervous and „cold“ to me cause maybe one phone call means something impersonal to him…or whatever... Anyways, we settled a date.

He picked me up on time. Good car. But that was all. He acted without any chic, behaved without any ideas, any zest at all! I had to manage our date (as a visitor on my vacation!!). Walking on the pier went to being even worse. He was totally without any sense of humour at all.. Even we talked a lot. For example about his protest against alcohol. Great, I could not have any shots to get some mettle I desperately needed. Than we stopped for some tapas. But he was a vegetarian and wanted to split and share our food. Only vegetables, how cool… I remember this was one of the moments I started to watch my watch.
Sunday afternoon and sooooo much time to spend it somehow. I decided to go to Venice. To enjoy at least some fun, I thought… walking walking walking. That was tolerable. But what came after exceeded my worse date of all.

He wanted to sit on a grass in that little park (in the middle of the famous sidewalk with thousands of people on it). So we sit. He sit next to me, quite close I would say. He suddenly stopped to talk and than IT happend. He was fluttering, shuddering, shaking. His eyes were closed and he started to snort and flew in my ears. He smoothed my hair – but not in a way Id like of course (so f*** slowly and artificially I didnt know what to do!). Yes. I suffered that wierd situation without any moves. I just stayed and waited till it came to the end. I dont know if HE came to the end. And was afraid to ask or to watch him..!! I only know I was so shocked but also wanted to laugh so much!!! OMG it was neverending!!! After about one hour of „letting my date enjoy his time“ I asked him to take me home (why couldnt I find some alibi earlier?!?!?!). Last obligatory kiss was just luckily short.

Honestly, can you tell me this wasnt the worse hanging out ever?!?!?!

Cat Puppet Man

Raul is a runner, mountain biker and all around good-looking Orange County guy. Being a sucker for a pretty face, I overlooked that he didn't have too much to say on the phone. "He's just shy", I told myself. (I am always willing to make up excuses for a pretty face). Anyway...we arranged a date in Huntington Beach (I usually suggest a half-way point if we live more than 10 miles apart). Raul was even better looking in person! Teeth, tone, tall (the studly trinity). He handed me a large ziploc bag - full of cookies! He told me he liked to bake and made these chocolate chip cookies just for me. (How odd... yet sweet?) We went for dinner at Ruby's on the pier. As it became sadly apparent, Raul was not shy - Raul was dull. He was awkward with few facial expressions (Botox??) and lacked "oompf". I carried the conversation - it was exhausting. I had resigned myself to accept that despite my shallow attraction to this man, even I could not overlook his lack of personality. We walked around a bit after dinner - talking about God knows whatever subject I pulled from my emergency "what the hell should we talk about" bag. He walked me to my car and I, ever the gentlewoman, offered to drive him to his. As we drove down crowded Main St. he seemed to have suddenly perked up. He had discovered toys in my car - and was delighted! He became animated and eagerly told me that he too had toys! He kept a cat puppet in his car for when he was stuck on the freeway. I told him that the toys he found belonged to my my 6 year old son. He was not dissuaded from his glee. We hurriedly arrived at his car and I thanked him for dinner. I also thanked him for the cookies though now I seriously wished I had a "royal taster". I can only imagine what this Peter Pan's secret ingredient was for his cookies.

Spread 'em

After naively believing we would just go as friends, with separate rooms - a co-worker (not online date despite this blog's title) and I took off for a weekend somewhere north of Santa Barbara. We left Friday night from work and all was well. Somewhere near Oxnard, it was revealed to me that in fact we would be sharing a room - but that he would take the sofa (damn skippy you will). My stomach sank as I now realized I had not truly thought this whole thing through. We arrived in Santa Barbara for dinner (fabulous Cajun place) around 8:00. I watched in horror as this man downed drink after drink. I foolishly allowed him to drive because despite his alcoholic gluttony, he didn't appear to be drunk.

Alas, Santa Barbara has many one-way streets and naturally, we got pulled over for taking the wrong turn down one of them (a mistake I would have made as well). "Monica", my date said as the red and blue lights danced across his face, "I'm going to be arrested". I laughed. "For driving down a one-way street?!?". "Listen", he said "I want you to drive my car back to work. I'll get it after I'm released." Sure enough, the officer asked him to get out of the car after running his paperwork. Before I knew it, they had him spread-eagle on the trunk (as seen through the passenger side vanity mirror). What a sight. After some time, an officer came to the window and told me that my friend was being arrested and the car impounded. (Yes - I said the car was going to be impounded.) My situation had gone from bad to worse. The kind officer then thrust $200 my way saying my friend wanted me to use it for a (really long) cab ride home. Still in disbelief, I was asked to leave the vehicle. Apparently my friend had already been taken to the pokey, because he was gone. I stood with my carry-on luggage in hand, pondering the situation. The officer took pity on me. He was kind enough to drive me to hotel after full hotel to search for a room for the night. We found one, I thanked him. He laughed when I told him that I hope my friend was made someone's bitch that night.

I lay in my room, bed spinning. I had a giggling fit that lasted a good 15 minutes. Then I called my trusted friend, Joyce. She giggled for 15 minutes. After we recovered, I told her it was too much to ask for her to come and get me in the middle of the night from 2 hours away. I asked her if she would kindly get me in the morning but I felt that that too was too much of an imposition. I then remembered that the train runs right through Santa Barbara and that I could take it to L.A. from there. Then suddenly, the fog lifted and angels sang - I had an idea! I would make a weekend of it! Why not? I had $140 left - I would move to a cheaper motel the next night and have a good time hoofing it through Santa Barbara! There's a lovely mission, great shopping - not to mention fabulous beaches! Ha! Sure enough, I had a lovely time - I walked a lot - and spent exactly how much I had left (including the train ticket).
Here's the link to the lovely pictures I took that weekend: http://www.worldisround.com/articles/16958/index.html

My friend didn't have much to say to me on Monday. In fact, he wisely avoided me. Later on he lamely mentioned something about an episode at a party. Whatever.

"Butt Pic"

Howard is a 44 year old father of two originally from Kansas. We started off the "natural" Internet dating way - with a few emails. We then progressed to IM'ing, then - naturally - texting. While I was watching the Olympics, Howard called me. We spoke for 2 1/2 hours!! Not too many red flags popped up during the course of the conversation. He was a little full of himself - going on an on about what a great real estate developer he was. When he wasn't talking about that, he was yammering on about his two children and how wonderfully athletic they were. Like I said, I was watching the Olympics. We did manage a fun conversation about Kansas and about pets, etc. When I realized how late it was, I told him I had to go to sleep. Minutes later, he texted me asking if I liked him (I suppose he was looking for some kind of review?). I said "sure". He then wrote back asking if I wanted to see a "butt pic". I wrote back "What?!?" He said that it was a funny picture his buddy had taken at Lake Powell and that I should keep in mind it was hot that day. With much trepidation, I said "sure". The next morning (still butt-pic-less) he wished me a "good morning" and we exchanged a few texts. Then came the butt pic. Picture if you will, a man with only a shirt on - bending over (with his ass to the camera), legs akimbo, adjusting a TV. A lot to digest, I know. As I tried to recuperate, I shot over a text: "wow - tmi". "hahaha -that's me!" is what he wrote back. I wondered what in our previous evening's conversation would have lead him to believe that I would want or appreciate the "butt pic" now forever scorched into my memory. Nothing vulgar was said nor heard. A true puzzlement. I wrote him that, in case he wasn't em-bare-assed by sending me that impossibly vulgar picture, he should be. I also told him that the next time he offered to send the picture to someone else, he should rightly call it his "look at my dangling balls and butt hole" pic.
Enough said about that.

****6/18/10 - I was going through my phone message memory (for whatever reason?!) and came across the aforementioned "butt pic" in the trash bin! And here I thought the tale would go down into the annals of history without a visual!