Dating Pet Peeves

1

Bad tipping.  Maybe it’s because I worked in foodservice in high school and as a barista in college, but bad tippers are my pet peeve.  I once went on a date to a fancy cocktail lounge where the bartender takes 3 – 4 minutes to mix and muddle the perfect $14 cocktail.  On a $30 bill, my date left a measly $2 tip.  I hastily dropped a few more bills on the tab when my date wasn’t looking.

2

Being late.  I waited in a wine bar for my date to show up for almost an hour once.  I ordered my first glass of wine and the waitstaff felt so bad for me they gave me a HUGE pour.  When my date arrived, he received a SMALL pour.  Ha ha.  Divine justice, if you ask me.  There was no second date.

3

Bad kissers.  You’d think by the time we reach 20 we’d know how to kiss but no, there are people out there that still suck face like amateurs.  I have little patience for someone who is a bad kisser.  If you can’t figure out it’s a game of mutuality instead of tonsil hockey, I’m done with you.

4

Bad breath.  Oh god, you know what I mean.  I once went on a date where I could smell his breath from across the table.  I always carry a discreet packet of mints with me and I wanted to discreetly suggest that he eat them all.

5

Being negative.  You know who I’m talking about.  That person who will list of 10 things that are wrong before they list one thing that’s right.  Mr. or Mrs. Downer.  It’s exhausting and draining to be around them.  Next!

7

Being self-absorbed.  I went on one date with a fireman.  He was so into himself his head fairly floated above his body.  If at the end of the date he could’ve told me anything about me (like my name), I would’ve been shocked.

8

The alcoholic.  This is the person who sits down across from you and then drinks nonstop throughout the meal, barely pausing to eat and breathe.  Or they talk incessantly about all the parties they throw/go to and how obliterated they’ve gotten.  Yawn.  We’re not 21 anymore.

9

Being rude.  There’s nothing worse than going to a restaurant with a date and watching them be rude to the waitstaff.  This drives me completely batty.  Again, I worked in foodservice so I know how hard it can be.  I do not trust a man who is nice to me and rude to other people.

10

The cell phone addict.  I once went on a date with an attorney that was so horrifically bad – involving two standard poodles and a 6 year old.  As if that wasn’t bad enough, he kept answering his phone.  We barely said 10 words to eachother.  I’m still traumatized from that date.

So I met Joe

Joe is handsome and funny.

Not exactly the tallest guy I’ve ever met, but still can hold his own in a showdown with me in 4” heels.

Joe is a diver and it excites him that I am a Rescue Diver.

Of course, he doesn’t know I haven’t dove in years because of that panic attack I had underwater caused by blood pressure changes in a too tight wetsuit hood.

Joe called me up and we chatted for a little while.

He is keen to go out and I was kind of excited too.

He’s got daughters after all and Lord knows I want to wind up with a man with daughters.

All on account of I have none of my own.

In so many ways, Joe seemed PERFECT for me.

Daughters. Adventurous spirit. World traveler. Funny.

So I showed his profile to Barbara, just to see if he could get the BARBARA STAMP OF APPROVAL.

Barbara is probably the toughest of all my friends to approve the men I date.

She’s not called The Hammer for nothing.

LOL

And that’s when it happened.

I glanced at his profile and saw “Separated” as his marital status.

As in STILL FUCKING MARRIED!

Jesus F. Christ!

Nevermind.

À la Whitesnake

Ever since this guy I met on Match put me through a grueling picture-by-picture interrogation, I’ve been rethinking my Match.com profile pictures.

It was excruciating to hear, “And HOW old is THIS photo?” over and over again.

Yes, some of my pictures are old but that’s because I want them to show me DOING interesting things – like flying airplanes, hiking the Watchtower trail in the Sequoias, and eating a silkworm grub.

I think they APPROPRIATELY capture my essence – funny, adventurous, creative. . .

I mix them with CURRENT photos.

Photos of me at Burning Man.

Photos of me catching a salmon.

Photos of me in my sister’s hot tub.

Do you want to know what THE MOST POPULATR PHOTO OF ME IS?

It’s this picture of me leaning on my friend Geoff’s Cobra.

Indeed.

It was taken on my 34th birthday (some 9 years ago) and to be honest, the only reason I’m draped across the hood of his car is because I didn’t think he’d be happy if I tried to do the SPLITS on it.

À la Whitesnake.

Sadly, I think it’s time to retire this photo.

Although it feels like I was 34 JUST YESTERDAY, the sad fact of the matter is that it was 9 YEARS AGO.

I don’t want to be accused of misleading anyone.

But FUCK that guy for making me feel deceitful.

Save

Save

Overwhelmed with men

Okay, even I have to admit I did not expect this strong a response to my new Match.com profile.

I was simply honest in my approach to where I am as far as dating goes.

And it sounds like it resonates with a lot of men.

Some of them have sent me their own worst date stories.

Others have apologized for the sleazy men I keep running into.

Still others compliment my “fresh and funny” approach to my profile.

I just told the truth.

I’m literally at my wits end as far as dating goes.

I’m one bad date away from giving it all up.

Again.

Right now, I’m messaging several men and I’m happy to report that some of them are not my typical “lumberjack” fare.

That means I’m branching out and looking through a wider variety of men for someone appropriate for me.

It’s not easy to do.

I tend to want to dismiss anyone who isn’t at least 5’10” tall with a beard and tattoos.

But I’m working on not letting my image of what I think is the perfect man for me ruin the reality of who could be a perfect man for me.

In any case, I firmly believe that there are lots of men out there that I could fall in love with. Given enough time, everyone tends to grow on me.

It’s just finding that man who falls in love with me that’s the hard part!

Wish Me Luck

I went ahead and changed my Match.com profile to THIS.

And ever since I did, my “phone” has been ringing off the hook.

One guy called my profile refreshing.

Another man apologized for all the creeps out there.

And yet another referred to my profile as “honest and funny.”

So far so good.

I haven’t received any dick pics or any requests for guys to “cum in my ass” so that’s a plus!

Maybe this profile will filter out the majority of the sex perverts and unavailable men.

One can hope.

Because I’ve met Bob.

Bob is a big guy. Heavily tattooed. With a nice trim beard.

Exactly what I look for, no?

Well, we shall see.

He did text me at 5 O’CLOCK IN THE FUCKING MORNING.

Just to let me know he was up.

These are the things I DON’T NEED TO KNOW.

You know?

Not at 5 o’clock in the morning, anyways.

Despite his unfortunate lack of sensibility when it comes to early morning communications, I like Bob.

He seems like a nice guy, albeit an intimidating one what with his LANDSCAPE of tattoos.

Wish me luck!

STFU

Shitballs!

Do you know what I find disheartening about internet dating?

Apart from the cum shots, requests for nude photos, and first dates?

The emphasis on looks.

Doesn’t everyone realize we are all in the process of losing our looks and that all we’ll have to keep us company in our twilight years is the personality of someone we fell in love with?

Oh, don’t get me wrong, I look at pictures as much as the next person.

But I also read their profile.

And I shun the illiterate ones and embrace the well spoken ones.

Well, the latest guy I have been messaging is obsessed with how I look.

A young Cybil Shepherd, he says.

Yes, I’ve heard that before and thank you for the compliment.

But the fact is I am a 43 year old woman who is not getting any younger and if he really knew me, then he’d know that how I look is the least of what makes me attractive.

He made me go through each of my 21 profile pictures and tell him how long ago they were taken.

We’ll, 50% of them were takes 3 -5 years ago.

And the other 50% were current.

The whole process was rather appalling.

And I simply can’t handle his gushing.

Oh don’t worry, I’m not going to stand him up.

I’m going to lie and say I’ve met someone else.

It’s a harmless little lie that preserves his ego while simultaneously giving me an excuse to NO GO OUT WITH HIM.

Pretty, my ass.

STFU and pay attention to what matters!

Should this be my next Match.com profile?

Look.

I get it.

We’re all horny and lonely and looking for a little comfort.

The thing is, I’m looking for someone who is open to the possibility of something more developing.

Something that lasts longer than a text exchange or a conversation over dinner.

I swear, if I get one more request for naked pictures, or one more jacking off video I’m going to quit online dating FOR GOOD.

At first, I thought it was funny how many bad dates I was going on.

They made for good stories with my friends.

There was Fart Man and the Guy with Two Standard Poodles and a 6-Year Old.

Those were REALLY BAD DATES.

But now I seem to have slipped into a rut whereby every man I meet is asking for sex, sexy pictures, swing parties, BDSM action, etc.

Would it kill you to get to know me BEFORE propositioning me?

I know what you’re thinking.

You’re thinking I’m frigid.

But I’m not.

I’m a Scorpio and come from a long line of women with very healthy sex lives.

But I don’t want to talk about sex on the first date let alone DO IT.

I’d prefer to meet someone who wants to discover more about me.

Like the fact that I ran with the bulls in 2014.

Or that I can skin an abalone in under 30 seconds.

Or that I performed with the Boston Pops in 1997.

Or that I’m a PADI certified rescue diver who can’t watch horror films unless I can sleep with the light on.

And there’s more.

So much more.

But you’re never going to find out if all you ask about is sex.

That is all.

Save

Par for the course

I really don’t want to write this post.

I met ANOTHER man who turned out to be ANOTHER dirtbag.

I’m sort of a little stunned by this turn of events.

Even though it seems to happen all the time now.

We met online and started texting.

I gave him my phone number and we continued to text directly.

He seemed interesting – successful, handsome, South American. . .

Then he sent me some wonky texts, hinting at a BDSM inclination.

So I was direct:

Now, it’s not that I mind BDSM activities. Power exchange can be a lot of fun. But when you lead with that, it makes me think there’s very little behind the façade and I lose interest.

I realized this guy had no long term prospects with me so I decided to play with him a bit.

We sexted.

Yes, I’m not so proud that I did it, but hey, I was lonely and horny and he was there.

We went back and forth with fantasies.

He of course assumed he could top me and so in the end, his final text to me was “I came right in your tight ass.”

Really?

Cuz that does absolutely NOTHING for me.

Sigh.

I disappeared pretty quickly once I watched his final video.

“I hate to sext and run but I’m falling asleep.”

And I was.

It was 2 am!

So there you have it. Michelle meets a guy. Guy turns out to be a dirtbag. Michelle uses the guy for sexting and the guy ruins it in the last sentence.

Par for the course, my friends.

Par for the course.

Hobby Contest

One of the things that happens when you go on a date with someone new is you ask them what their hobbies are.

What do you do for fun?

What are your hobbies?

Tell me something interesting about you.

New Guy and I were texting and talking peripherally about hobbies when he asked, “Do you want to have a hobby contest?”

Oh, it’s on.

I have this little adventure blog called unblunder that I’ve been feeding hobbies for years. No one, and I mean no one, can beat me when it comes to hobbies.

I have too many to count.

I started: I’m a PADI certified Rescue Diver.

Him: I’m a certified water polo coach.

Me: I have my own adventure blog.

Him: Secretary past master Masonic lodge.

I’m not sure what this is, but okay.

Me: I’ve raced stock cars at the Stockton 99 raceway.

Him: Crap.

Him: I am an expert ping pong player.

Me: I’ve been skydiving.

Him: I’ve spearfished a shark.

Me: I ran with the bulls.

Him: I was kidnapped by a leper colony in Brazil.

At this point I laughed and I laughed and I laughed hard. I THOUGHT he was joking, so I followed with my own joke.

Me: I can paint with my toes.

Him: I sailed a 42 foot sloop through a hurricane and tropical storm for 1300 mils in the Atlantic.

Wha?????

Me: We’re you joking, because I was. I can’t paint with my toes.

And this folks is how Michelle becomes impressed with a man. When he sails a boat through a hurricane.

OMG.

New Guy

Lives in Pacific Grove.

Has a 9-year old daughter.

I’ve always wanted to wind up with a man who has nothing but girls.

Seems kinda cool to share my boys with him while enjoying the camaraderie of his daughters.

I could use more feminine energy in my life.

In any case, he is rather nice.

I’d like to pat myself on the back for picking a good one.

It remains to be seen if he has any of those offensive qualities that so many of the men I date seem to have.

But so far so good (he hasn’t asked to cum on my face or see my tits).

We’ve bonded talking about our dogs.

He has Luna.

I have Wendy.

In my experience, dog people are good people, so this is just more proof (in my mind) that he’s a decent guy.

I could use a nice guy at this junction in my life right now.

Ironically, his username has the word “jaded” in it, which of course I asked about because hey, if he’s truly jaded, I think that I’ll take a hard pass.

But no, turns out he just uses it because he thinks it makes him sound edgier. Cool.

Cool?

Cool would be ubiquitous. Or auspicious. Or chivalrous.

But jaded?

We shall see. . .