Posts Tagged ‘Online Dating’

Leaving it to Fate

     I celebrated the New Year with good friends at a small family owned bar.  They treated patrons to a champagne toast every hour until our time zone reached midnight.  My wingwoman, Half-pint, was picked up by a twenty-year-old kid, and I was followed around by his older cousin, Puppy-Dog, for a majority of the night.  At the end of the night, when my friends and I decided to leave, Puppy-Dog had the gall to grab his coat and exit with us.  Hey Buddy, following me around all night like a puppy-dog and not once even attempting to buy me a drink, isn’t exactly paving the way for a New Year’s shag.  Just sayin’.  Needless to say there was no shag-time, and even though he asked for my number, the comment of, “If nothing ever happens, I just want you to know I had a good time tonight,” clearly pointed out that he was never going to use my number.  I was spot on with that call and haven’t heard from him…and I’m not losing sleep over it either.

     The first week of the New Year down, and the dating “project” for this year decided, it is time to share.  Now, this decision may bring tears to some of your eyes, as it did with Buddha Babe, but it must be done.  In my years of date-blogging, I have tackled online dating, a self-help book, speed dating, set-ups, etc.  It is time to try the only thing I haven’t tried…FATE.  This year I’m leaving the luck of my love life to Fate.  That being said, my date count will drop drastically not leaving me much to blog about.  So, unless Fate sets in motion something earth-shattering, this may most likely be my only post this year.  Don’t fret too much, I’ll still be tweeting it up from time to time.

     I thought giving myself and blog a proper send-off was in order, so I compiled a “The Best of Zia” list to keep you entertained in my dating absence.  

Post that was  numerously retweeted, reposted by other bloggers, and stirred up a hefty comment discussion: Check Yourself Before You Wreck Yourself

A Sample of the Prince Charmings that I’ve come across: Careful What You Wish For 

Even in my non-dating life I find rare jewles…and, well, maybe posting on Craigslist had something to do with it too: Oh, Sammy Boy

Zia in a guest appearance: Treasure Down Under 

Example of how I’m a class-act on a date: More Bug Wine, Please

     Thanks for reading, and best of luck to all of you in 2012.  Go out there and get your flirt on!

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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.

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?

Prince Handsy (Part 1)

     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?

      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.

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