Posts Tagged ‘match.com’

Stalk Much?

{ September 6, 2011 @ 8:24 am } · { Collection of Dumbasses }
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     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.

The Sequel

{ July 25, 2011 @ 10:08 am } · { Collection of Dumbasses }
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     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?

Prince Handsy (Part 1)

{ April 28, 2011 @ 9:00 am } · { The Bad Date Collection }
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     Monday night marked my return to the dating world, and let me just say, the dating gods have an epic sense of humor.  Allow me to elaborate…

     I met this newest beau via match.com.  He’s a former pro-soccer player, but after a torn ACL, he was brought back down to earth and has to do real work.  We emailed briefly and then he asked for my number.  He called and the first thing that threw me was his accent.  We hadn’t emailed in great depth so I had no idea he was foreign.  After about a two-minute conversation, he said he wanted to take me out.  A two-minute conversation made me dinner worthy?  Wow, I must be a hell of a conversationalist.  We scheduled a day and time and hung up.

     Over the weekend he wished me a Happy Easter and confirmed plans for Monday night.  So far, I was liking this on-the-ball maturity thing. On the down side, in some texts he was referring to me meeting him at his place.  This day and age, I am not comfortable with that.  Told him I’d meet him at the restaurant.  Fast forward to date night.

     I arrived early, parked on a side street, and headed to the restaurant.  He arrived, and I initially did a double-take.  He didn’t look exactly like his picture, but I knew it was him.  Added bonus, he looked better than his picture.  When does that ever happen!?  Felt a bit rude for having my head in my phone when he arrived but fortunately I had just text him, so I didn’t feel too bad.  He said he left his phone in his car.  I won’t be sitting with a guy who keeps checking his phone?  Whoa, another added bonus.

     We grab seats at the bar.  He rambles off a few drinks that they don’t have (he made no effort to look at the bold faced drink menu they placed in front of him.)  We get our drinks and somewhere in there I directed a teasing comment toward him.  His hand then rubbed my back made its way to my leg and he responded, “I can’t kiss you now.  I have to wait.”  (Note to self: He can handle sarcasm and seems to be turned on by it.)

     The kiss comment seemed premature, just like the date invite, but it was the hand rubbing my back and leg that threw me.  It wasn’t a pervy grope, more of an, “I’m interested and attracted to you” petting.  I am not a huge PDA fan, so this caught me by surprise.

     He kept making comments about his place, and I kept thinking, “I’m not going to your place.  Why the hell do you think I met you at the restaurant?”  Although most of his English was spot-on, there were a few lost in translation moments.

     There was more back/leg rubbing and a few more sarcastic comments.  At one point he leaned in to kiss me while we were still sitting at the bar.  (Should have known better, all that sarcasm proved to be too much for him.)  I wasn’t expecting it and had turned my head, so I got a half-lip part cheek peck.

     After one drink, he pays the tab.  Thought that seemed kind of quick.  When we get outside he points to where his car is and then asks where mine is.  It was just around the corner.  He said that was okay, I could just follow him.  I asked follow him where, knowing full well he thought I was going back to his place.  After a very stern, no I’m not going to your apartment, he seemed a little hurt and confused.  Told him we could go for a walk, but I wasn’t going to go back to his place.

     We start walking and I notice he got quiet.  I made a comment about the silence, figuring he was upset that he realized he wasn’t getting laid.  He said he just gets quiet sometimes and scooped in to pull me close and returned to feeling up my back and sides again.  (Yo, Prince Handsy, you’re interested.  Don’t worry, I got the memo.)

     We walked into another bar where he thought he knew someone that worked there.  After an air-headed conversation with the blond bartended to find out the guy didn’t work there anymore, we left.  When we got outside he commented how he didn’t like the way she talked/talked to him.  (Another note to self: Doesn’t like air-heads.  Appreciates intelligence.)

     We walked passed a FedEx store and he said he needed a pen because he lost his.  He banged a U-turn in the middle of the sidewalk, grabbed my hand and went in.  He stared at the pens for a bit, so I chimed in and asked if he liked the “clicky pens” or the ones with a cap.  He said the “clicky.”  I pointed to a pack and said those are my favorites.  My eyes kind of glanced around while he made a decision.  He picked up the pack of pens, turned to me, and said (while walking at me), “Well, I know who to blame if I don’t like them.”  And before I knew what was happening – tongue down my throat, hand on my ass, and slobber making its way to my chin.

     I’d like to take this moment to apologize to all witnesses of my molestation in FedEx on Monday night.

     This, however, is not the end of the Prince Handsy’s escapade…

To read Part 2 click here.

Who would reply to that?

{ April 17, 2011 @ 11:32 am } · { Collection of Dumbasses }
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      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.

The Date That Didn’t…

{ February 25, 2011 @ 1:29 pm } · { The Bad Date Collection }
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…happen.

     Back to my old tricks again juggling a few online guys at a time this past month, one from Match and three from eHarmony.  The first guy from eHarmony disappeared after a few emails back and forth.  The second guy from eHarmony bored me to tears over email, telling me random crap about himself like, “I could eat a whole jar of peanut butter.”  Yup, that was its own paragraph.  We weren’t talking about food or passions or weaknesses, he just threw that information out there.  This now left me with the third guy from eHarmony and the guy from Match.

     The guy from Match is half black and half Italian and claimed in his profile that that was the best of both worlds.  After ogling over his pictures, I wasn’t going to argue with him.  We texted during the week and on Thursday we settled on Saturday morning to meet.  But that was it.  When I didn’t hear from him on Friday evening, I shot him a quick text asking if he still wanted to meet and when.  He text back saying, “Anytime…we can do lunch.”  I replied asking when, where, and all that jazz, hoping to get some details.  Never heard back.

     Saturday morning rolls around, I head out for a run, get home, shower, eat something, and then sit to watch a little TV.  Finally, at 11:58am, I get a text:

Mr. No-Show: Afternoon, great day for a run

Zia’s thoughts: Are you freakin’ kidding me?  I thought you wanted to meet for lunch.  Why the hell are you just texting me now, at noon!?

Zia’s response (at 12:11pm): It was a nice day for a run.

Mr. No-Show (at 12:42pm): Are you familiar with “such’n’such?”

Zia’s thoughts: Dude, it’s been a half an hour, where the hell did you disappear to?

Zia’s response (at 12:47pm): No, I don’t really know that area.

     He sent a few texts in a row to set up a place.  And again, I had to ask what time.  At 1:09pm he tells me…

Mr. No-Show: I was thinking 2.

     I did not see this for a few minutes so he texted again asking if that was okay.

Zia’s thoughts: Are you freakin’ kidding me?  That means I have twenty minutes to make myself presentable for a first meet!  I hope you are not expecting glitz and glam.

Zia’s response: Yeah.

     As I cursed out this unknown man while I put my make-up on in a hurry, I decided he’d get a made up face but jeans and a t-shirt are as fashionable as I was getting.

     I hopped in my car and realized I was going to be about five minutes late.  Sent him a text to tell him.  Five minutes later I get a text.

Mr. No-Show: Runnin late

Zia’s thoughts: MoTheR F*cKeR.  You picked this time and now you can’t even show up for it!?

Zia’s response: About how long?  Ten-fifteen minutes?  If so, I’m gonna run to Barnes & Nobel real quick.

Zia’s thoughts: If he ends up being later, at least I’ll have something to do and it’ll be a good meeting place.

     He tells me fifteen minutes and I tell him to let me know when he parks.

     It was a holiday weekend.  When I left the parking garage, I saw that the restaurant we decided on was packed.  Sent him a text about a different place that was next to B&N.  He said okay.

     About fifteen minutes later, I check out at B&N, walk back to my car, place my bag in the car, and then finally get a call from Mr. No-Show asking where the restaurant is.  Told him where and to let me know when he’s parked.  I walk back to the restaurant and stand out front and patiently wait…and wait…and wait…and then impatiently wait.  I get a phone call saying he doesn’t see the restaurant.  I asked if he was on foot or in his car.  He hesitated, “in my car.”

Zia’s thought: WTF!?  It’s a city strip, everything you need to get to is on foot.  Park! Park! PARK!  Is this your first day off the short bus?

     Again, I told him to find parking and got off the phone.  At this point I was annoyed and irritated.  No condition to meet someone for the first time.  And now I’m getting rained on.  Screw it.  Sent him a text telling him I had to take off.  As I set foot into the parking garage I get a reply.

Mr. No-Show (at 3:28pm): I just parked.

     For anyone doing the math, that was an hour and a half after we were “scheduled” to meet.

     I have said it before and like a broken record I’ll say it again – PLANNING!  Show me you put a little thought into meeting me.  I don’t think I’m asking for much.  I would just like to go out with a guy that is actually interested in meeting me, maybe even a little excited, and actually puts in a little effort into planning the date.  That’s what I get for trying to go on a date with a hot guy.  Why would they put in much effort, they don’t usually have to, right?

     This now leaves me with the third guy from eHarmony.  I’m utilizing their free communication month.  We have progressed to emailing and hopefully will chat this weekend.  However, I have yet to see a picture.  But after this experience, here’s to hoping he is butt-ass ugly.

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