Archive for Collection of Dumbasses

Stalk Much?

     I really enjoy the “see who’s viewed you” section on Match.com.  I get to see the guys whom I’ve emailed and haven’t heard back from,  so I know they’re not interested.  I get to see which old guys wish they had a chance, and that Mr. Fig Newton is stalking me.  Oh, that’s right, just when you thought he had disappeared.  For Mr. Fig Newton back story, click here.

     For those of you unfamiliar with Match.com’s set-up, you receive “daily matches” that are computer calculated hand selected just for you.  Within each of those selections, there is one member who is “Singled Out” for you per day.  No lie, the day after my last Mr. Fig Newton post he was “singled out” for me.  Come on Match, let’s tweak that system.

     Anyway, you have an interest option of clicking “yes,” “no,” or “maybe.”  No doubt, I clicked “no” to Mr. Fig Newton.  However, about a week after that post I got an email telling me someone was interested, which is what happens when someone clicks “yes.”  I wasn’t exactly smiling at this news when I saw Mr. Fig Newton’s screename attached to the email.  And not only did he click “yes,” but he also sent an email to follow that act.

     This is what he wrote:

Hey sweetie. Match seems to keep putting you up as my daily match. And I see that you’re still actively involved on this site. So, I’m guessing you’ve still got your options open. I’m just saying, if Match thinks we’re a match, maybe we owe it to ourselves to find out if that’s true.

     This explains why I kept seeing him in my who’s viewed me section.  You can see the person’s activity date and how frequently they’re online.  He was obviously checking in to see how often I logged in.  I did not respond to this moronocity, which did not stop him from stalking my profile yet again a few days later.  Dude, it’s not gonna happen.  I’ve already done the research…we – aren’t – a – match.

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The Sequel

     I am going to take a little side step from the Gameless Joe Jackson saga I’ve been updating you on because this recent occurence is just too good not to share.

     A few weeks ago I received an email on match.com.  It’s entire contents was just the word “hello.”  Anyone who has been following my blog for a little while can tell you how this irks me – beyond belief.  The man’s picture looked somewhat familiar, like a guy I met on a different site, but I wasn’t one hundred percent positive.  I disregarded it and went on my merry way.

     Last week I received yet another email from the same man.  This time the email read, “Do you remember me?”  So, this time I scrolled through the pictures.  It looked like a trying-too-hard model photo shoot.  Bald, black, muscley, tight t-shirts, and sunglasses in just about every shot.  But then I saw it.  The one photo where he was looking at the camera without sunglasses and his “crazy-eyes” glaring back at me.

     Yes.  Yes I do remember you, Mr. Fig Newton!  Ugh.  I was right.  It was him.  For those of you new to my blog, the post on him is classic and a bit of a fan favorite.  I met him a couple of years ago.  He was very interested, but our last and final date was all I could handle.  When I told my friends of his return, they thought I should ask him how the spider was doing.  This spider reference will be much clearer when you read the original Mr. Fig Newton post.  For a refresher or to read it for the first time, click here.

     Out of kindness I emailed him back, told him I do remember him, and asked how he was.  And to be a hard-ass asked him what was up with the super model photo shoot and the sunglasses.  I got the response:

“I’m good sweetie. What’s good with you? I can’t believe a sexy (His use of this creeped me out the first time and still does) girl like you is still single. I’m still trying to figure out why we never coupled up. (You’re a bit of an idiot.)  I wanted you lol. (I know. Subtlety wasn’t your strong suit.)

I don’t know about supermodel lol. But if it impresses you, (It didn’t.) it’s all gravy. They ain’t all got sunglasses. I don’t hide. Just a lil something to make you curious and lure you in to me 😉 (Think you need new bait.) Shoot me your number again. (fat chance) Lets talk”

     I replied back informing him that it was not like I was trying to still be single.  And then I asked how the spider was.  Really.  I did.  He responded back and completely ignored the spider question.  Uh, this guy’s no fun.  Done with you.  And asked once more for my number.

     Since I didn’t want this to linger on, I waited a few days and then emailed him back.  Said thanks for checking in on me, but I was going to pass on giving him my number.  Told him I was talking to someone else right now and want to see how it plays out.  To which he responded:

“Oh… That hurt. Don’t be so hasty to write me off. I still think I’m the guy for you. (Funny, I don’t.)  Just because you pass, doesn’t mean I have to. (Really?) Give it some thought. (insert moron’s phone number here). (Seriously?)  I’d love to hear your voice again pretty mama.” (weirdo)

     He never once used my name through all of this.  How into me could he have even been if he can’t even remember my name?  And how do I find these prize gems…and why do they come back?

Speed Dater

     Last night. Buddha Babe and I set out on a long-awaited adventure – Speed Dating.  We had been trying for months to get our schedules to coincide so we could check out this dating phenomena.
     After registering, we received an email telling us to put on our date shoes and to bring a pen.  Really, that’s all we need for a good date?  Then I wondered, “Hmm…think they would let me take my clipboard? I’ve been wanting to try that technique too.”
     Armed with stilettos and a writing implement, I headed out for the evening.  Decided to save the clipboard for another time, don’t want too much excitement at once.
     We checked in, got our numbers, and drinks and waited for the event to begin.  Turned out that quite a few men chickened out so we had double the women.  The hostess offered to buy the ladies who were willing to go in the second group a drink and chocolate fondue.  Don’t need to ask me twice – “Ah, barkeeper, rum and Coke, please.”
     When it was finally our time to go, we took our seats.  We had six men that would be rotating through our parade of awesomeness.  Here are how my dates went:

Speed Dater #1:  Very nice guy, teacher, little bit older.  He wasn’t really my type but, if I had a single friend that I thought he’d mesh with I’d set him up in a heartbeat.  Came across as someone you would want in your circle.

Speed Dater #2:  This guy was very entertaining.  Family owns an ambulance company.  Do you think causing self-inflicted bodily harm to see him again is cute or too stalkerish?

Speed Dater #3:  Older man and a bit…odd.  About two minutes into our five-minute date, he somehow worked into the conversation, “I was born vaginally.”  (I swear I don’t make this stuff up.)

Speed Dater #4:  This guy seemed okay, little scrawny and twitchy, but I think the line that turned me off was when he was talking about his friends.  They are apparently, “all in jail or dead.”

Speed Dater #5:  I can’t harp on him too badly because Buddha Babe is staking her claim.  Personally, he was a little too dull and boring for me.  Buddha Babe was casually eavesdropping on our conversation and noticed we had silence.  She was all too happy to bring up the fact that on their speed date they didn’t have any silences.

Speed Dater #6:  Didn’t make much eye contact.  Asian with a chick’s name. Military, mumbled, and not the sharpest tool in the shed.  We talked about where we were from and I had said the East Coast.  He then proceeded to give me a geography lesson and tell me, “…uuuh…yeah…we have two Virginias and two Carolinas.  We have West Virginia and Virginia, and we have North Carolina and South Carolina.”

Zia’s Thoughts:  We give this man a gun?

     At the end of the night, we were told to go home and be sure to check all our scores.  I’m keeping an opened mind, but the only “yes” I doled out was to Mr. 911.  We were also informed that since we are promised eight dates and so many men canceled that Buddha Babe and I have a free night of Speed Dating ahead of us.  I would say let the good times roll, but, honestly, how can someone top dead friends or vaginal birth?

Who would reply to that?

      With all my busy-bee and sickness at the beginning of the year, I am now starting to ease my way back into the dating world.  It has easily been a few months since my last date and with not many prospects it may be a bit longer.  I decided to search through some online dating files that match.com decided to pair me with.  I believe these have gotten worse since my return from hiatus.  It raises many questions like: What the hell are you thinking?,  What are you doing?, What kind of responses are you expecting with that verbal diarrhea?  But I believe what I really want to ask these Men-on-the-Search is, “Who would reply to that ridiculous assinine-ness you just spued all over the page?”  So I thought I’d share some of my findings and you tell me what you think.

Dude #1 scores with this top-notch tagline: Are you emotionally available?  (No, but I had nothing better to do on a Saturday afternoon, so I filled out a long-ass questionnaire about myself for kicks.)

Dude #2 gets you started with a very “inviting” tagline:  Ready to start dating again… (Yes, he put the ellipsis)

Then his profile:
Please ask when regarding this topic…. (Ask what?  And why more ellipses into nowhere.)

In a nutshell, I got out of a long relationship, got hurt so I took time off from dating and now ready to see what is out there.  (Hi.  Let me introduce you to my baggage.)

Looking for similar interests, a person who has their head on straight. (This line will work well because what woman is going to respond, “I prefer keeping my head up my ass?”)

Dude #3 -His profile stands alone and needs no commentary:
One Hot Beachwalker looking for Hot Ninja Princess to share hungover walks on beach and marathon p90x sexy time sessions with. Maybe occasional yoga class, fist pump, or film & music festival. Gotta love food… but can’t be a fat arse… Gotta love booze… but can’t be saucy…. I’m sure there is someone “just right” out there for me. At least my psychic thinks so. 

     I’m single.  It’s a mystery.

Junior High Dance

     It was bound to happen sooner or later, and I guess “sooner” won the battle.  I have been on a lot of one-hit-wonderless dates, but Los Angeles is big, so running into these guys again falls into the slim to none category.  However, on Saturday night, I could run no more.

     A few months ago when this date took place, during our chat he had asked where I tended bar and then said he would be attending a friend’s wedding there in the spring, to which I joked I would probably be the bartender.  Well, the joke was an uncomfortable reality.

     On Saturday night, while I was mixing and pouring drinks and going about my business, I looked up and spotted a familiar face.  Then it hit me, “Oh shit.  I’ve been out with that guy.”  And instantly remembered his name (that’s a big deal for me), who he was (date number two of that double date day), and him saying he’d be attending a wedding here.

     The date wasn’t incredibly horrible, but I only saw it going as far as friendship level, whereas I think he was more eager.  It was one of those situations where he looked okay in his pictures and the real live thing was a big let down.  And now, his hair had grown out to an unflattering length and he looked twiggier and scrawnier than I remember.  This is the man who wants to be a woman’s swimsuit/lingerie fashion designer.  I foresee creeped-out models in his future.  But I digress…

     After our date, he had wanted to see me again.  I usually give the guy a second go if they weren’t totally horrible.  When he said next week, I said Saturday worked for me.  The week went on and when he called he said he meant during the week.  And I said, “Oh.”  How else was I supposed to react?  At that point it was Thursday, Saturday is what I had free.  Duh.  Anyway, he seemed thrown by that and I never heard from him again.  Flash forward to Saturday night.

     The area where cocktail hour was held is spacious and he could have sat anywhere, but he chose a high-top right near the bar.  He was angled facing the bar so I couldn’t help but see his mug nearly every time I looked up.  I was prepared to be friendly, ask him how he was, all the basics.  But as the cocktail hour winded down, I never had to.  He isn’t much of a drinker, so he never left his seat to come to the open bar where two female bartenders were working.  I mean come on guys, what single straight dateless man attends an open bar wedding with two women behind the bar and doesn’t approach?  We’re cute, even gay men adore us.

     After cocktail hour ended, the party moved into the main dining room.  Usually we just stay behind the main bar and people come back to us.  This couple arranged to have a satellite bar in with the guests.  And of course, I was the chosen one to be in the room with them.  When I got to my bar, most of the guests had already taken their seats.  I looked up and then, SMACK!  He was right in front of me – again.  Great, now I have to go through the whole reception with him obviously trying to ignore me.

     I had figured he had seen me and it clicked who I was.  I also figured at some point, out of common courtesy, he would just come over and say hello.  But no, this guy was total junior high school.  Although his chair was facing me the whole night, he avoided all eye contact.  Small beans, right?  What really made me chuckle was when he left the table to, I’m assuming, go to the restroom.  There was a clear path from the entrance of the dining room to his table, which again, was right in front of the bar.  Upon his return, I noticed him walk right onto the dance floor, bob and weave through filled tables with seated guest, and slowly make his way back to his table, where he sat down with his head cocked in a different direction from his seat.  I’m amazed his ass found the chair.  For his second bathroom run, I’m guessing he saw the challenges from his first return and opted to the easier path to his table.  However, once he got to the table, rather than loop around facing the others, he turned backwards, body rubbed the pillar, and put his ass to the table.  Classy.

     You tell me.  Did he see me?

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