No means no

Sometimes when you’re online dating you come across someone who looks really good but turns out to be a complete and total disaster.

My first clue that there would be a problem should have been when I noticed he was named after a serial killer.

Why would parents deliberately saddle their child with an infamous name?

In any case, when asked what I was looking for I replied, “An animal lover.  You can tell a lot about a person by how they treat animals. What are you looking for?”

A God fearing woman.

I’ll just pause and let that sink in.

A God fearing woman.

Not someone who loves God, not someone who lives a God-centered life but a “GOD FEARING WOMAN.”

This is something I am not.

If I believed in God, and I’m not saying that I don’t, then my God would be a loving, compassionate, caring entity.

A God to be loved, not feared.

So I politely pointed this out to him and suggested that we part ways.

But he would have none of it.

He reminded me I have a good heart.

Yes, but I still am not looking for a man who wants a woman who fears God.

Things can still work out for us, he replied.

At this point, my objection to him stopped being his interest in God fearing women and became his inability to take no for an answer.

This is never a good sign.

Two people were never less clearly meant for each other than us two.

I suggested that we’d be wasting each other’s time.

I made it clear that I was definitely not what he was looking for.

I’m not sure how many times a woman needs to tell a man no thank you, but based on this interaction it’s more than four times.

No means no.

DATES!

Just in case we’re keeping track, I’ve had exactly two dates since I absolutely swore off blogging my dates.

Yes, not ONE but TWO dates!

I’ve been productive.

Both dates were in restaurants I’d never been to with men I’d never been out with before.

There’s something a little scary about meeting a strange man in a new place.

You never know who you’re REALLY going out with.

Although for the record, I’ve had basically neutral interactions with everyone I’ve gone out with.

Yeah, perhaps my dates and I lacked chemistry, but overall the men I’ve gone out with have been an adequate lot.

If on the horny side.

I know, I know. . . you’re thinking, “But it’s YOU, Michelle!  You attract your own energy.”

Perhaps I am a little to blame.

Can I help it that when given the slightest flirt, men usually amplify the signal 10 fold?

Suddenly cheeky banter turns into an all-out sext fest.

Not that that is what happened on my dates.

No.

Or, maybe. . .

I really can’t say.

Working the numbers

I ran into a man I dated today.

He and I work at the same company, though in different buildings, and we somehow managed to not run into each other in the 6 years since we dated.

He looked great and it was nice to see him.

He recognized me and came over to talk.

He’s married now.

To the woman he stopped dating me for which (ironically) I found very comforting.

It sucks to be dropped but when someone meets The One, it’s understandable.

So we caught up.

All is well in his neck of the woods.

And all is well with me.

We discussed internet dating for a while.

We met on Match which is where he met his wife.

I’ve heard one in eight marriages start online.

Maybe even more now.

His take on internet dating:  it’s a numbers name and you need thick skin to play but you can meet the person of your dreams online if you’re patient and thorough.

So I’m not feeling so bad that I’m already back online meeting men through Tinder.

In fact, I’m feeling optimistic about my date tomorrow with The Airman.

The Airman is in the military and had traveled all over the world but is originally from New Jersey, a state I’ve never been to.

All his kids are college age and older so he’s in the same boat as me:  getting ready to retire and travel.

Wish me luck!

I may not be thick skinned but I’m definitely working the numbers.

Cut Throat      

Ever since my renewed experience with ghosting, I’ve become a menace at swiping left on Tinder and closing dead-end connections.

I’ve developed a method for weeding out inappropriate men:

  1. Do I want to swipe right when I see their picture(s)?
  2. If yes, then I review where they are from.
  3. If they are 25 miles or less from me, I read their profile (if there is one).
  4. If they are married, polyamorous, ethically non-monogamous, in an “open” relationship, not looking for a LTR or looking for hookups, I swipe left.

I’ve been feeling like a cut throat dater lately because I’ve been REALLY GOOD at closing connections that are dead ends (see above list).

One guy called me a pet name RIGHT OFF THE BAT, which I hate!

I am ‘sweetheart’ to my friends and family but a stranger has to earn the right to call me that.

Forged intimacy is a no-no in my book.

I closed the connection with him.

Another man clearly lived WAY TO FAR AWAY (don’t know how he missed my filter), but I quickly closed our connection as well.

It pays to filter your connections post swiping too.

Sometimes you wind up with someone who is just visiting the area and looking for an easy hookup.

Their profile looks good but they’re not local.

I close those connections too.

It’s not as if I need MORE ENCOURAGEMENT getting involved in long-distance relationships, despite the fact that I’m really looking for someone local.

Everything is closer than Sweden, however.

Now, as soon as the first red flag goes up, I cut bait and run.

Pics with guns.

Donald Trump supporters.

Flaky texting.

Dick pics.

All these things set off my radar and I exit quickly once I’ve beentriggered.

I’m not being bitchy, I’m being efficient.

I’m a cut throat when it comes to internet dating.

Giving up dating

So, I have a dilemma.

I’ve given up internet dating.

This is a good thing.

Internet dating was damaging my view of men in the Bay Area.

I felt stuck in a porno, unable to escape.

Every man wanted sex – from the guy who described his ideal woman as someone without a gag reflex to the guy whose username was Luv2eatacos.

Fuck actually making a connection with someone.

This I think, is not the norm.

No.

I mean of course men want sex.

Everyone does.

But I think there are men out there who are single, available, and NOT TOTALLY OBSESSED WITH SEX.

Let’s call them Men-Who-Can-Make-Meaningful-Connections-With-Women.

My dilemma is this:

HOW DO YOU MEET MEN LIKE THIS?

They’re OBVIOUSLY not online.

So where do I go?

The supermarket?

The library?

Hobby shops?

Sports games?

Please, someone tell me because the only thing I hate more than giving up is giving up and doing nothing about it.

I have no intention of wallowing in misery, alone for the rest of my life.

But I also have no intention of going back online to play the nymphomaniac to men who think that women are sex objects.

Should I just leave it to serendipity or should I somehow mix and mingle and put myself out there?

Help!

Crazies coming out of the woodwork

I’m back to internet dating.

Because I already know all the single burner men in my Village and none of them interest me beyond friendship (and visa versa).

And honestly, I really don’t meet many single men my own age when I’m out and about.

I meet students and professors but they’re all upwardly mobile and I am holding steady as a modest event planner.

So it’s internet dating.

I met a guy the other day.

He seemed lovely and we chatted via Skype.

I like to see people’s faces when I talk to them.

I get a really good idea of who they are and what interests them.

Much more so than texting.

So there I am skyping when he takes me into the bathroom with him.

Because he had to go pee.

I quickly excused myself.

It’s late.

Time to go.

But he calls me back when he’s done.

I talk to him for a few minutes then excuse myself, hang up, and get back online.

Suddenly I get a message from him ONLINE.

He sends me a pouty emoticon with the words, “Why are you online? Weren’t we just talking?”

Now, let me tell you this.

There is no room for possessiveness in my life.

I love my friends.

We kiss and hug all the time.

A jealous man will get NOWHERE with me.

Realizing this, I tell this guy that it’s probably best if we don’t go out.

What happened next was a flurry of passive-aggressive texts that he sent to me.

“What’s wrong with me?”

“Why don’t you like me?”

“Well, YOUR loss.”

“I’m not into you either.”

And blah, blah, blah.

So there you have it.

Back on internet dating for a week and already the crazies are coming out of the woodwork.

Dry Spell

It’s been a dry spring for me.

And by dry, I mean no dates.

Not that I’ve given up, mind you – just that I haven’t been actively pursuing dates like I did in the past.

It felt like I had a date every day of the week.

I lived on Tinder and POF.

Now?

Not so much.

I’ve given up the ghost of internet dating.

All I seem to find are porn addicts, foot worshipers, and men who want to have anal sex with me.

The pickings are pretty slim, if you ask me.

I can’t remember the last time I met someone authentic through one of those sites.

But there is The Swede.

I got lucky with him.

And by lucky, I mean that he is an amazing man.

It’s too bad he lives 5,000 miles away.

I’ve been getting out a lot anyway.

My friends make sure I stay busy and have fun with or without a date.

Mostly what I miss?

The flirtation.

Oh, I’d die to make eyes with someone from across the room all night long.

Or spend the night making clever flirty conversation with a man.

And let me tell you, I MISS KISSING.

And other things. . .

But we’re not going there because talking about it JUST MAKES IT WORSE.

My last relationship ended over 4 years ago and I figure it’s about time to usher in a new chapter of my life where I find someone amazing and couple up with him.

It is seriously time for this dry spell to END!

Growing up

I’ve had no dates since returning from Sweden.

It’s not that I’m consciously trying to be loyal to The Swede.

It’s because I simply can’t stomach the quality of men I meet online.

Did you know that one man thanked me for moving my beer on the first date because (as he put it), he “could see my tits better without the glass in the way?”

Mind you, I have behaved no better.

I’m no “holier than thou” woman.

Nope.

I sent dirty pictures.

I wore low cut dresses.

And I flirted with the best of them.

In the end, online dating is not any way to make a connection with somebody.

Although, I did meet The Swede on Tinder.

Go figure.

One in a fucking billion.

And I had to import him from ANOTHER COUNTRY!

You’d think, given my inclinations, that I’d be missing all those dates, and sexting, and flirtations.

But you’d be wrong.

I’m not missing it ONE BIT.

Maybe it’s because I can skype The Swede whenever I want.

But also?

It’s because I can TEXT The Swede whenever I want.

Kidding!

Maybe he’s a big part of why I’m happy, but he’s not the ONLY reason I’m happy.

I’ve got a hundred other reasons to be happy starting with my boys.

I guess this is growing up.

Panty dropping

So there I am, minding my own business on Tinder. .

Yes, on Tinder.

I’m not having sex but I’m still dating.

In any case, I get a message from a guy called Larry.

Larry sends me a GIF.

It’s a GIF of a woman from the waist down.

She’s standing in high heels and wearing a short skirt.

All of a sudden, her panties drop to the floor and she steps out of them.

THIS IS HIS FIRST COMMUNICATION WITH ME.

O. M. G.

Why do I always get the sex perverts and fuckwits?

So I do the only thing I can think of.

I insult him.

I write back “Thanks for dropping your panties for me. While I don’t usually go for men who wear ladies underwear, I’m willing to give it a shot. Would you like to wear my red panties or my black panties?”

It was the most obnoxious thing I could think of saying in response to such a stupid opening “line.”

His response?

Classic.

He closed the connection.

Yes!

I’m finally doing something right!

Save

Full

I’ve given up internet dating.

Again.

Yes, again again.

I’m aware I’ve done this in the past only to reverse my decision.

This time I think it will stick.

Why?

Because I don’t really think it’s the right venue for me to meet someone.

Everyone is disposable in internet dating.

No one matters because there’s another one ready to step up and take your place.

Also. . .

Because I’m seriously filled up with all my burner friends and family.

I don’t feel alone at all.

I actually feel rich and ripe with friendships right now.

So wish me luck out there in the real world.

If I don’t meet someone organically, so what?

I’ve got plenty to keep me full.