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Bad Online Dates and Epic Meltdowns Courtesy of Match.com

16 Apr

When it comes to dating in Cleveland, one week can make a big difference. It rarely does, but anything can happen, right?

I was at a dating low point last Saturday night. It was a dark, dark place in my less than fulfilling  online dating saga.

First, my ex-boyfriend walked right past my car downtown while I was en route to meet a guy from Match.com. (THE ex-boyfriend. You know, the one ex boyfriend that pops up in your head whenever you hear a sappy Phil Collins break-up song. Thankfully, I don’t think he noticed me. I wish I didn’t notice him.

Reeling from my ex-boyfriend sighting, I set out to meet my Saturday night date. The moment I laid eyes on him, I wanted to run like hell out of the bar. Why I didn’t make a break for it, I’ll never know. The guy clearly had a knack for snapping deceptive photos. And he talked funny.

Not only did he look NOTHING like his photos, he was just so weird. He wouldn’t stop talking about the fact that he was ADHD. By being blessed with the inability to focus, this guy acted like he won the “I’m so awesome” jackpot. His pants didn’t fit. They were much too short – like horrifyingly too short.

Bad dates and too short pants

He wasn’t even a hipster….

You can blame the fact that you locked your keys in the car for the second time this week on ADHD. You can’t use it to justify that you are a socially awkward mess. Sorry buddy, it’s not ADHD, you are just really, really strange. Accept it.

Then he rambled on and on about weird history shit – I zoned out for the bulk of it, but he kept talking about some dude named Constantine and Christianity wars. (What the fuck??????) For a man who supposedly can’t focus, he could sure focus on some Christianity wars.

Oh, and apparently there was this former girlfriend who lied about him being the father of his child for a full year. Bitter? You better believe it. I heard about it for another 20 minutes or so before calling it a night.

Bad dating Maury Povich style

After two glasses of wine and some water, I retreated back to my car and headed home. (Mind you, two glasses of wine is the equivalent of drinking two glasses of water for my alcohol-loving self).

Note: I’m not proud of the following passage you’re about to read. An ex-boyfriend sighting and subsequent nightmare date is a recipe for an epic “Why Me?” meltdown. Sometimes you just need one. 

So, I’m making my way home down I-90 after this hell date and “Baker Street” by Gerry Rafferty comes on my iPod. You heard me right – “Baker Street” by Gerry Rafferty. The tune must have hit a chord (no pun intended.. ha) and I start sobbing. I’m talking heaving, awful, choking sobs. Endless sobbing. Once “Baker Street” finished, “I Can’t Tell You Why” by the Eagles started playing which only made it worse.  (My reaction to these songs further stresses the gravity of my sad, sad dating life). By the time I arrived home, my face was bright pink and caked in a mixture of black mascara and snot. I wasn’t even drunk. I was still crying and I wasn’t entirely sure why. Other than the fact that I was angry at my shitty dating luck.

Bawling my eyes out to “Baker Street” after a bad Saturday night date AND ex boyfriend encounter was not a high point (salt meet wound). Don’t judge – we all have our “Why Me?”  moments. Right? I do wish my bad dating meltdown occurred during a “cooler” song.  Where is Bon Iver when you need him?

Flash forward to my recent Saturday night date

I’m on a second date with a man I met two nights before.  Ever meet someone that you totally feel like you can be 100% yourself with right off the bat? Yeah, it was like that. I can totally say whatever and not feel like I’m freaking him out. Plus, he’s adorable, smart and ridiculously witty. I like this one. And I’m not forcing myself to like this one because he’s good on paper or convenient. I just do.

I know better than to jump the gun and get my hopes up. Still, I didn’t  drive home crying to “Magnet and Steel” by Walter Egan or anything….. so I think I’m on the right path.

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Leveraging an Online Dating Success Story. Maybe. Sort Of.

4 Apr

Welcome to another installment of Stupid Shit Guys Do to (Hopefully) Get Sex

My recent date may have looked like Patrick Dempsey, but Mr. McDreamy he was not.

McDreamy Not

Return to Dating 101 – if a man repeatedly claims to to be a “hopeless romantic,” he’s not. McNotDreamy never missed an opportunity to inform me about his romantic tendencies.  According to him, he’s an “old-fashioned romantic” type of guy.  I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s thoroughly expressed on his online dating profile. (Ladies – if you see this in a profile. Never get your hopes up.)

I can repeatedly tell you that I’m Kim Kardashian. It doesn’t make it true.

Despite a lack of wine and roses, McNotDreamy had a riveting story that he liked to recount (over and over again)…. Once upon a time he knew a guy who recently encountered a bout of good dating luck on Match.com.

texts from match2

On top of excessively communicating his supposed romantic tendencies, NotMcDreamy really enjoyed repeating a story about his friend who recently found the woman of his dreams on Match.com. So much, that his buddy’s tale of online dating love came up in nearly every conversation. Whether it was via text, phone call or during dinner, he never failed to mention the fact that his friend fell in love with a girl from Match.com. Sometimes an “I can only hope to be so lucky” was added for good measure. The more he told the story, the more I got the feeling something was off.

text from match1

Take the online dating success story and combine it with the absence of romantic tendencies. Toss in his claim to be a huge dog lover with his refusal to pet or even acknowledge my dog… and it equals bull shit. Creative, yet ineffective bull shit.

I firmly believe he deserves a few points for originality. This is the first man who tried to crank up the charm with a non-stop reiteration of a friend’s online dating love story.

texts from match3

On the fourth (and final) date, McNotDreamy sat beside me on the couch and proceeded to text other women. He deliberately tilted the phone so I couldn’t see the screen when he’d receive the messages. Because that wasn’t obvious or anything… (And I could still see!)

Of course, the multiple females blowing up his phone didn’t stop him from trying to hump me.

I, on the other hand, did.

Fuck You Valentine’s Day – I Hate Dating

14 Feb

I’m 31, single and a dating blogger…. And I totally forgot Valentine’s Day was this week. Between work, dating, starting a book and my new-found addiction to the Walking Dead series (I’m always late to the party….) I had no idea it was almost here.

I’ve been so distracted that Valentine’s Day could’ve passed and I’d have been none the wiser. Readers of my dating blog would’ve missed out on an obligatory angst-ridden “I Hate Valentine’s Day” post had it not been for a certain guy in my life. He’s pretty… swell.

My ignorance was bliss. Until Monday night.

I hate valentines day

Even though I said no more dating lawyers, I continue to do so. They find me. I continue to give them chances. It never works out. Mostly because they fail to maintain a decent façade and I realize they’re a total asshole after a few dates. (Definition of insanity, I get it.)

I was set to embark on date #5 with this lawyer. I’ve been hesitant about him because his actions (out late every single night, has multiple ‘guys nights’ every week….) don’t say “I want to settle down.” He’s divorced, so it seems like he’s determined to make up for lost time. However, I genuinely enjoyed his company and our personalities mesh, so I wanted to be certain before I regrettably cast him out of the rotation (also known as – move on because in a week or two he’ll be onto the next big thing)

Last weekend we made plans for this Thursday (HE picked the day). Neither of us aware that it was Valentine’s Day.

valentines day fuck off

Monday night I receive a text from him around 1am (I’m a slight insomniac). The text read “Good night.” I was up watching Walking Dead on Netflix so I politely answered, “Good night to you too.” I thought he was just making a nice gesture. The rest goes as followed:

Lawyer: We are going out on vday….

Me: That’s funny. I totally didn’t realize it was Valentines Day.
(100 percent true – I actually wanted to spend Valentines Day with my best friend because that would’ve been fun and not subject to unnecessary awkwardness)

Lawyer:  Ok. So here’s how I see it. Neither of us knew. So let’s not infer anything. But let’s also not infer that either of us are being dicks.

Me:  Why would either of us be a dick?

Lawyer: I don’t know….

Lawyer:  Damn. I hate dating.

Me:  Considering Valentines Day wasn’t even on my radar, I don’t believe either of us inferred anything.

Lawyer:  Good. I’ll still plan a nice night.

Gee, thanks. Is it wrong to feel insulted? I did.

I wouldn’t have inferred anything because we’re still getting to know each other. The notion that he felt compelled to send that text and couldn’t just leave well enough alone lets me infer a few things…

And he’s the one who hates dating? But it gets better.

I was debating whether or not to cancel, but he made the decision for me on Wednesday (the day before Valentines Day).  He claimed he’s bogged down with work and we need to reschedule.I promise you, he’s not ‘working late.’

Hey asshole – you just left me hanging on Valentine’s Day. Well, now I definitely ‘infer’ something – you’re an ass.

In other news, according to Jezebel.com my vagina is worth $257 on Valentine’s Day. The price is based on the level of commitment and a single vagina is worth the most. If you’re a single woman on Valentine’s Day, your date should fork over $257 to get laid. Committed vaginas must settle for $180. I’m not making this shit up. I guess that means as far as Valentine’s Day is concerned, my vagina is worthless.

Dating a Cheap Man: Number One Cause of Vaginal Dryness

11 Feb

“Tell me more about the money you saved by not eating in restaurants. It’s really getting me hot,” SAID NO WOMAN EVER.

Seriously guys – don’t be cheap. Before you ask a woman on a date, loosen that death grip on your wallet and PLEASE, PLEASE don’t brag about your frugal lifestyle. Believe me, we are not impressed.

So… I went on a date with this Match.com guy, let’s just call him El Cheapo (it’s more fitting than anything else). Allow me to preface this story by telling you that El Cheapo is a medical device sales rep who makes close to six-figures. Cheap has nothing to do with income level and everything to do with a fatal personality flaw. Cheap = undateable. Cheap boyfriend

El Cheapo called the night before and suggested we meet at the Greenhouse Tavern. For any non-Clevelanders reading this, the Greenhouse Tavern is one of the top restaurants in Cleveland. You can’t NOT eat at Greenhouse Tavern. Well, unless you’re El Cheapo. I don’t think he was planning on dinner.

If he just wanted to meet for a drink, he could’ve suggested more bar and less restaurant. Selecting one of the best restaurants in Cleveland and expecting me to sit there and watch everyone else chow down is cruel and unusual punishment. I wasn’t having it, so I took the reins and insisted we get a table because I was hungry.

He tried to change his tune, “Wow. I’m kind of relieved that you’re hungry. I just planned to sit at the bar. But we can eat.”

Damn right we’re eating. I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he wasn’t cheap. Maybe the cheap vibe he was exuding was totally my head. It wasn’t.

On top of suggesting that I get the cheapest entrée on the menu (burger), El Cheapo spent a hefty chunk of time discussing his finances and his rapidly growing bank account. And let me tell you, he’s very proud of his bloated savings account. He told me that more than once.

cheap ass

Does this turn you on?

“I’m the most frugal guy I know,” he boasted. “Every month I set a budget for how much I can spend on entertainment. If I go over my budget, I have to lay low the next month.” He continued to brag about his fiscally conservative ways and how he managed to teach his sisters to cut corners and they now save an additional $500 per month.

Oh, he also told a riveting story involving a bad date at a wine festival. I’m not sure what else happened on his ‘bad date story,’ but I do know that the tickets cost $50 each. He mentioned that like ten times.

When I first laid eyes on El Cheapo, I wondered why he was single. The man is extremely tall, attractive, and intelligent with a good job. But wow, he’s a miserly fellow! Financial responsibility is good, but when penny-pinching dominates a first date conversation – there’s a huge problem.

El Cheapo doesn’t have his own place at 35. He lives with his cousin in a 2 bedroom apartment (not even a house) because it “saves so much money.”

Surprisingly El Cheapo willingly paid for dinner. (Note: I purposely didn’t select an expensive entrée and ordered only one drink, so it wasn’t an expensive tab. I didn’t want it to be. I was turned off and just wanted to leave.)

Our date occurred on a 20-degree night with wicked wind gusts. The sidewalks were covered by a lovely sheet of ice and where does he park? Over by West 6th somewhere because he didn’t want to pay higher rates due to the Cavs game. I paid $10 bucks to park a block away – which is nothing. How much money could he have possibly saved?? A broken leg due to falling on ice during his long trek back could cost him much more.

Frugal menGuys, you need not be rich. Just don’t be so prudent with your cash that it’s impractical. Thriftiness does not get our juices flowing. El Cheapo was incredibly attractive, yet I’ve never been so turned off.

He asked me on a second date, but I must decline. I don’t care to hear anymore about his adventures in frugality. (Seriously, what guy brags about his cheapness on a first date?)

A Bit of Dating Advice: Stop Using LOL. Really, Just Stop.

27 Jan

If you use “LOL” in a non-ironic fashion, I can’t date you.

It’s staggering how many men over 30 pepper their online dating profiles, emails and texts with “LOL” or “LMAO,” etc. Not only are they using outdated text message lingo designed for teenagers, they aren’t even using it properly!

LOL guy

Stop saying LOL

Note the following examples from Match.com profiles/messages:

“I hope you enjoy romance, wit, and drinking good beer lol.”
“How’s your weekend been? Mine’s been lazy. LOL.”
“I believe everyone has a soul mate. I hope to find her soon lol.”
“Willing to say we met in a grocery store lmao.”
“Sometimes I enjoy relaxing with a good movie lol lame.”

Quick refresher – LOL is short for laugh out loud. It’s not the latest punctuation mark. You don’t just pop it into the end of random sentences.

None of the phrases above even warrant a “LOL.” Why is it so funny that you hope to find your soul mate? Does having a lazy weekend literally cause you to crack up uncontrollably? If thinking about relaxing with a good movie or downing craft beer is forcing you to erupt in hysterical laughter, I can only assume you’re either high on drugs, mentally slow or fucked up in the head.

“LOL” use is NEVER casual. LOLers can’t contain themselves. Once “LOL” rears its ugly head, you can be damned sure millions more will follow. Tell someone you had a busy day and can’t wait to veg out under a blanket, you’ll be met with an “LOL.” Suggest a new restaurant for dinner and the likely response will be, “LMAO. Sounds great.”

Whoever said that it’s hard to get to know someone through text messaging was wrong. I can tell plenty about a person from the moment a “LOL” or “LMAO” appears on my phone screen.

Before text language became standard, I used to think “LOL” meant “loser online.” Seriously. It’s more fitting.

Anyways, if you’re over the age of 27, stop saying “LOL.” You sound like a dumb ass.

*Emoticons are tolerable with limited usage.

Texts From a Cheating Boyfriend – While He’s Cheating

22 Dec

When it comes to a cheating boyfriend, if you feel something isn’t right… it probably isn’t.

The night Bruce cheated we were supposed to have been together (we always were together). I got ready, waited around and he ultimately stood me up. It wasn’t like him.

One thing to note about our relationship, we were always either in contact or together. If he didn’t hear from me for a little bit, he’d always reach out and vice versa. We both always answered texts right away no matter what. Always.

His text messages from that night were downright cold and bizarre. I felt like I was talking with a stranger.

I saved the lovely text messages from my cheating boyfriend (sent while he was cheating!) because they were too creepy not to keep around. When I date someone else and find myself becoming upset over something stupid, I can simply look back to this dating blog post to put everything into perspective.

On that note, enjoy the odd texts from my cheating (ex) boyfriend.

Text message from a cheating boyfriend

Another text from my cheating boyfriend

My cheating boyfriend needed tonight

He really “needed tonight.” So much that he said it twice. Eww.

Texts from a cheater

He wasn’t sorry until he got caught later that afternoon.

 

Once a cheater, Always a cheater.

10 Dec

My boyfriend cheated on me.

On Friday, Bruce proclaimed he needed a “guys night.” I wasn’t aware that “guys night” involved getting unbelievably hammered and taking a 45-year-old bar hag home to fuck her in the same bed that we shared almost every fucking night.  She isn’t even remotely pretty. Just trailer trash. By the way, Bruce is 32.  It was a one-night stand with a filthy hag that he couldn’t have cared less about. He was extremely intoxicated and took this dirty bartender Michele back to his place.

My brain won’t shut off. I can’t stop envisioning them together. He was MY boyfriend. God – he kissed her and touched her in the same way he kissed and touched me. He fingered her…. stuck his dick inside her. All the while, I was sitting there and waiting for him to come home. Even after a guys night, I would’ve headed to his place to sleep next to him. We never slept apart unless he was traveling for work. Friday night was the first time, but only one of us slept alone.

The thought of him with another woman makes me want to vomit. I can’t eat. I’ve already thrown up twice. It’s so surreal. cheating-boyfriend

It really makes me wonder how many other times this happened. He did it right under my nose. He traveled all the time for work. Imagine what he was doing in those other cities where I had no chance of finding out…. It’s so fucking sick. Sometimes random women (whom he never mentioned to me) would text him late at night. There were times he wouldn’t open the texts in front of me. He said they were just co-workers. I was a bit suspicious then and clearly I had a reason to be.

And it wasn’t like he wasn’t getting it at home – I ALWAYS want to have sex. I’m usually the one to initiate. I never once turned him down (because I’m usually horny). I’m an attractive person (guess you’ll have to take my word on that). For him to stick his penis inside this sleazy, dirty, ugly bar whore when he has me at home is unthinkable. I don’t understand and I never will. He’s a sick fuck.

He lives in my apartment complex, so I must make peace with the idea that I will see him in passing. Luckily his building is on the other end of the complex. However, after a betrayal like this – He is dead to me.

Cheating boyfriend

The last text I will ever send to this man.

There is nothing left to say. I will NEVER utter another word to this piece of shit scumbag for as long as I live. I tried so hard to make us work and he threw it all away for 60 seconds of intercourse with a dirty vagina (60 seconds is pushing it. He never lasted very long in bed). That’s all she was to him – a vagina. She looks like she’d smell too.

I’m devastated. We were ALWAYS together. We were entirely intertwined in each other’s lives. Now it’s over – just like that… completely blindsided.

Admittedly, we were having some major issues (mostly he was acting like a cold-hearted asshole more often than not) and a future break-up was seemingly inevitable. But I wasn’t ready. I couldn’t let go. I wanted it to work so badly. Mostly because I was afraid to be alone again. Maybe this is the kick in the ass I needed to move on with my life. He wasn’t good for me, but I kept trying, and trying, and trying. He took me for granted every single day – and I knew it. I wasn’t happy, but I stayed.

He hasn’t looked me in the eyes for weeks.  Leads me to believe last Friday night wasn’t the first time.

It’s over. Adjusting to day-to-day life without him won’t be easy since we were always together. But – this too shall pass. I will never second-guess our break-up. For me, there is no guilt, no remorse and no questions. There is only certainty and hate. Two things that will make it easier to move forward with my life.

I can’t help but feel that life (or fate…) did me an enormous favor. In the long run, this is the best thing that could’ve happened. I can finally move on without wondering “what if?”. There’s no reason to look back. Even with this seething hatred flowing through my veins, I feel oddly free.

It’s over.

Psychopath Dating – Neil Diamond, Nerf Guns & Nudes

28 Jul

As you know, I have a habit of dating psychotic freak shows.

I planned to craft this dating blog post about my ex Sam, another Cleveland dating disaster, for quite some time. However, the tale is so disturbingly fucked up, yet funny, yet sad… I couldn’t fathom how to put this revolting mess into words. I still don’t kow. But here we go…

dating a psychopath, dating a sociopath American Psycho

I found the American Psycho on Match.com

Sam had all the signature traits of a psychopath. The first dating red flag that our relationship was doomed? A giant framed movie poster of “American Psycho” is the first thing I saw when I  entered his apartment. It’s in the main hallway next to the front door and impossible to miss. He was grossly infatuated with the film. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great movie, but his fixation was a bit over the top.

American Psycho aside. I had been dating Sam for two months or so when the following incident occurred. I found out about it later on. I’m still disturbed… mostly because I didn’t dump him immediately.

Sam’s douchebag college buddies were in town for the 2011 holiday season. He had an insatiable urge to impress these guys, so he hired a prostitute to come over and entertain them. I mean, what better way to flaunt your success than with a seedy prostitute? Perhaps it was a stripper, but he used the term “prostitute” to describe her multiple times, so let’s go with prostitute.

Did they make her perform a strip tease? Have sex with them (not that I know of at least….)? Masturbate in front of them? No.

prostitute hooker

Sam bought these colossal Nerf guns for his nephews for Christmas. (Mind you, he bought these while on a shopping outing with me) Apparently, he wanted to give them a trial run on a prostitute. Sam ordered the prostitute to go into his room, undress and wait. He cued up “Coming to America” by Neil Diamond for her grand entrance.

Sam and his buddies proceeded to shoot her with Nerf guns to the tune of “Coming to America” on repeat. When they finished a round, she had to pick up the Nerf pellets and return them so they could continue their game.

I was floored. He seemed sincerely proud of himself for causing this woman total hNeil Diamond concertumiliation. Even as he fessed up, he was cracking up with laughter. It was sick. A strip club is one thing, but this?

One morning about a week later, I woke up to him listening to “Coming to America.” I wanted to vomit. I forced him to turn it off. I tried to write the prostitute ordeal off as no big deal, but I knew better. I couldn’t erase it from my mind. How can one person get off on the degradation of another? I still can’t listen to “Coming to America” without my stomach turning in complete disgust.

Thankfully, our “relationship” ended soon after.

My new relationship goal is simple – to not find a man whose inspiration stems from Christian Bale’s character in “American Psycho.”

Cleveland Dating Disasters – Dude, You Ruined My Couch!

23 Jul

Anyone know of a decent upholstery cleaner in the Cleveland area?

I recently dated another run-of-the-mill yuppie Cleveland douchebag guy from Match.com. He owned a nice boat and I had some time to kill, so I just went with it. If you’re gonna date around like I do, it’s never a bad idea to keep at least one boat owner in circulation. You know?

I'm on a boat

I’m on a boat

My friends and I went out on his boat a few times (my way of saying “thanks for listening to all my shit.”). Plus, he took me to some nice restaurants. I tried to like the guy, but in reality he pretty much just sucked. He sucked at conversation. He sucked at kissing. He sucked in bed. He sucked at returning texts/calls. He loved wearing salmon-colored shirts. Seriously, he just sucked.

He came over to watch a movie with me one night. We were lying on my couch and out of nowhere he began to sweat profusely. Not just a little perspiration, he was virtually drowning in his own sweat. I couldn’t bear to lay next to him since his sweat was soaking into my clothes.

Wet Guy

Wet Man

I forced him to lie on the other end of the couch with his head by my feet. His skin had turned bright red and was secreting more fluid than I’m sure is humanly possible. It was like he ran a marathon.. in South Florida… in August. Or I cranked the heat up to 100 degrees in my apartment and we had some hot love making session (yeah, right). But no, we were just watching some movie where George Clooney’s wife dies.

Making him move did little to alleviate my discomfort and disgust. I could feel heat radiating off his boiling skin. I cranked up my air conditioning to the point that I was shivering under a blanket, but he just kept sweating away. I had to get him out, so I did what anyone in my situation would’ve done and faked sickness. I used the always reliable headache/nauseous ailment. It wasn’t a total lie, the thought of Mr. Secretion spending the night with me & sweating up my bed was making my stomach turn. It worked – after the movie he went home and I went to bed (Way to go Summer!).

As I sipped my coffee on the couch the next morning, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the pungent scent of man-sweat. The foul smell sent me running for the Febreeze. As I doused my couch with stench repellant, I couldn’t help but notice the sun shining directly on a brown stain that formed an exact outline of Mr. Secretion’s head. oozing

I stood in disbelief – he oozed all over my beloved couch.

It’s been a little over a month since we’ve spoken. The aftermath of his seeping secretions lingers on. An outline of a sweaty head remains and if you dare put your nose near the soft and cushy armrest, you’ll be greeted by an unpleasant odor. Like the scent of skunk, it’s nearly impossible to fully get rid of!  So, out of this relationship… I got a few boat rides, some bad makeout sessions… and an eventual bill to have my couch professionally cleaned.

I’ve done worse.

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