My friend Ryan and I got into a tiff about online dating about a week ago...one of the outcomes of that discussion was that I told him I would post some online dating horror stories. So...from March 5th, 2006, I submit the following (you're welcome, Ryan)
So I’m 30, and single. That doesn’t make me a bad person, and in many ways it might make me smarter than you! But, if the past few weeks of my life have taught me anything…it has taught me how pathetic it is being single, at times.
I broke up with my girlfriend about six weeks ago now…and while you may think that wound is still fresh, a person being a complete bitch to me has a way of sealing up wounds quickly…and let’s just say, I aint got no wounds. So, into the world of Yahoo Personals I went. I have tried online dating before, and in fact, met my previous girlfriend on Craigslist. Seeing as how that ended up with her being a nutcase, I thought I would try something different.
I have learned a few things the past week….most of them not good. I have learned that women, in my dating life at least, are just a wee bit selective about what they tell you…and when they tell you it. For example:
Girl #1: “Average” Body-Type Girl.
I’m not superficial. I’m not. But girl #1 and I chatted for about a week online before we met up. She had three pictures of herself on her profile, each one cuter than the last. In one pic, she is even holding a skydiving certificate, and I must say, is looking pretty hot in her jumpsuit. Additionally, in all her pics, she looks about 25 even though her age clearly stated 34 on her profile. Ah…she just looks young for her age I think. She wouldn’t lie about her looks with super old pictures…I mean, I might eventually meet her.
But lie, my friends, she did.
The friendly banter and flirting built up to our first date. I show up the restaurant first, and I am pretty nervous. I haven’t gone out with anyone new in a very long time. I was used to the ex and I either (a) going out with each other or (b) fighting and not going out at all. SO…my hands were even sweating. I was really excited…this hot and fun girl, who picked me out of all these other lucky guys, was coming to meet me. I was stolked about how short my dating period was going to be to find a new girlfriend. I had it all figured out!
The place we decided to meet happened to have valet parking, so I decided to wait in front near the attendants, about ten feet away from where people drop off their cars. I was sitting on the curb. At about 6:05, about five minutes late, I notice this blonde in a car. This must be her I think. That looks like her, at least. But when the valet opens the door, this woman, who appears to be at least 50 pounds heavier than the pictures I have been daydreaming about, rolls out of the car. As I am sitting on the curb, I don’t even get up because I convince myself That CAN’T be her…the girl from Yahoo is MUCH thinner than this and has a self-proclaimed "‘Average’ body type.” As she waddled over to me, I realized that this was her, and I was going to have to spend the next few hours telling myself that it is ok that I was lied to. I don’t care that she was heavy…I care that she misrepresented herself.
But man, during drinks, she really had some fabulous quotes. Some of my favorites were It may not look like it, but I really like to eat. I shit you not, she said this. She actually said this. And another one of my favorites had to be I literally pigged out at a buffet earlier today…I can really eat when I want to. Followed up with Although I am trying to be healthier…but it was a buffet after all. I was also let in on a little secret during our time together…and something she neglected to tell me before…"Average Body Type Girl" didn’t have a job…I guess this unfortunate turn of events combined with her weekly food allowance made it necessary for her to find some means of financial backing. I mean “She really likes to eat” after all.
Girl #2 – Claw Girl
Claw Girl dropped a double whammy on me the night we met. Her profile picture on her site did nothing for me, but she seemed really, really cool, so I thought I would give it a go.
As she walked up, she had a very different body than Average Body-Type Girl. She looked hot. She swaggered up to me with long, brown, flowing hair, and had a really nice glow about her. She had a beautiful smile, and her eyes really lit up when the lights from the coffee shop flickered off of them when she got within hand shaking distance. Hand…shaking…distance.
When I stuck out my hand to shake her hand hello, I noticed something odd about Claw Girl. I noticed that her hands/arms didn’t really work. Didn’t work? you ask. What do you mean, ‘Didn’t work’? Well, she had to use the back of both her hands in an attempt to clutch my hand. And to shake my hand, she somewhat moved her shoulders up and down in a shrug-like motion. Are you kidding me? I thought. Again, I didn’t care that this chick had a handicap….but you think she might have mentioned this under the “About me” section or the “Do all your appendages work?” one.
So we go in and get some coffee…and we chat. About 30 minutes into our conversation, Claw Girl drops bomb number 1.
CG: “Blah…Blah…Blah…My husband…Blah…Blah…Blah”
Me: “I’m sorry….did you just say ‘husband’?”
CG: “Oh yeah…I’m married…but we’re separated….so it’s not like I am really married.”
Me: “I see….so am I supposed to be like the mistress…and you are going to keep telling me that you are going to leave your husband…but it just isn’t the right time yet???”
She actually laughed at this although I was being serious. But we carried on the conversation…when she dropped “bomb” #2: I don’t know if you noticed opined Claw Girl, but I have a slight handicap with my arms and hands. And I held in a laugh. I’m not sure if Claw Girl didn’t think I noticed our awkward handshake, the fact that she had to pick up her coffee with the back of her hands, or that she used her feet to dig through her purse…but I decided to play along.
Me: Really? You do?
CG: Yes…I usually don’t tell people about it…
Well, that’s good Claw Girl. Having a slight physical abnormality isn’t something you should share with people you are going to meet from the internet…I was certainly glad when she let her little ruse come to an end. Needless to say…I won’t be asking Claw Girl for her hand in marriage anytime soon. OK…that was bad.
Girl #3: The Sieve
Kind of disgruntled by Average-Body and Claw Girls…I still had hope. The Sieve had been emailing me all week…and I must say, looked very cute in her profile pic, and was very mellow in her emails…nothing was a big deal…and we even talked on the phone a bit, I gotta say, she made me laugh. A few hours before we are going to meet up…she called me…almost in a panic: You realize I smoke, right? My profile says I do, but some people don’t notice that. Now, I don’t like smokers, but I really appreciated her honesty. I thought this was very different than Claw and Average Body Girls…and I respected her for being so forthright about it.
No problem. I tell her. Thank you for letting me know. Little did I realize at that time that she meant she smoked like a fucking bull moose…
Anyway, she ends up picking me up…and the second I see The Sieve…I realize something isn’t right. She, too, doesn’t look like her pictures….I mean, she does, except with the added bonus that it looked like she just got out of a three-hour bath and came directly over to my house…and, along the way, she also decided to slather her eyeballs with yellow dye. This chick was a walking tobacco factory…and looked AT LEAST 15 years older than her true age…28. But, if you recall…her nickname is the Sieve…NOT Joe Camel. So there must be more to this story…
We go to a bar and hang out…and she is very cool, I have to admit. I enjoyed talking with her, but I notice she is sucking down beers faster than I am…and although she looks more worn out than a 50-year-old throw rug…she does have a very smoking hot body. She is probably about 5’2” and maybe weighs about 100 lbs or so.
Four pints into the night…I’m feeling a little tipsy, and I ask her if she is going to be ok to drive. She tells me I don’t usually like showing people how much I can drink, especially on the first date…but I can really handle my liquor.
OK…I think…we’ll be fine…and we decide to head over to another bar before we go home. When we hit the next bar, she switches from beer to wine, and from sanity to insanity. She starts stumbling all over herself, and in the course of an hour, finishes her second pack of cigarettes. Granted, I am not very attracted to this person, but she HAD been fun to talk to until this point…and this point passed when she could no longer walk anymore.
I inquired about how I could get her home because not only had she smoked enough to influence the tobacco trade on Wall Street on our first date…but she had also ssssttttartted sllllurrring herrrr wwwwwwordsssss...along with walking into walls. When I suggest that I drive her home…she gets irritated with me and says: Fine…I’ll just take a cab
What’s the problem? I say
If you don’t want to spend the night with me…that’s fine.
OK…well…let’s just get out of here and worry about it later. I have no intention of sleeping with this girl…but we need to get out of this bar….and I need to get her to her home.
*Flash Forward a Bit*
By no means am I completely sober at this point…I have had about 6 pints of beer…but I am straight as an arrow compared to The Sieve, who is telling me….sorry, screaming at me…I CAN DRIVE...I CAN DRIVE...as we walk back to her car.
I wrestle the keys away from her, and I tell her that I will take care of the driving as I am actually pretty sober at this point. I start the car, and start driving home, which is literally five minutes away…I get two feet out of the spot…when The Sieve lets me in on a little secret. Why is it all these people have little secrets?
You can’t get pulled over. I kind of have a DUI…and if you get pulled over and I am drunk in my car…I am going to jail.
Um…oooooooooook I say…and am wondering how often she does this kind of thing.
And for the next few minutes she is CONSTANTLY…and I mean CONSTANTLY telling me to speed up or slow down or I cant get pulled over or Is that a cop? over and over again. I think these are things The Sieve should have thought about before pounding more than her weight in beer…but I digress.
We get back to my place…and this is not made up. She starts randomly asking me:
Do you work in a big town or in a town that is big?
Do you work in a big town or in a town that is big?
I’m not sure what you mean
It’s a yes/no question damn it! Do you work in a big town or in a town that is big?”
Well I frighteningly respond San Diego is a big town…so I guess I work in a big town?
Ahh…I see…so you are a policeman, then?
I’m sorry? I’m not following. I start wondering if my knives are locked up.
So, you’re a policeman.
Look, I really don’t know what you are talking about.
Mark, you have totally ruined the moment. Totally.
I’ve done what now?
You’ve ruined the moment.
And at this point, I am actually fearful for my life…I have no idea how nuts this chick really is…I end up sleeping in my living room with one eye open, keeping an eye out for any sort of policeman-like split personalities.
So, Ryan. There you have it. These are ALL true stories...and an example of why J-Date became an option.