Tag Archives: ain’t nobody got time for that

This is the story of: My Online Dates

I began to dabble in online dating again when I moved to Victoria and realized I wasn’t going to meet many people outside of my social circle, since I did nothing but work and hangout with the same thirteen people. So, I made an online dating profile. Although I was full of shame and possessed a feeling that everyone knew I had done this, just by looking at me, I have to admit my profile was  pretty awesome. I laughed as I wrote it. Then I picked some decent pictures and let it all sort itself out. As much as a control freak can, anyways.

I’m pretty particular about how I go about online dating. I look at the main picture prior to even reading the message (shallow, yes; necessary when you get 50+ messages a day, also yes). Once I look at the picture, I open the message, if it’s a “hey” or a “you’re gorgeous”, I ignore it. If the message is fourteen chapters and has a clear beginning, middle and end, I delete it immediately. Ain’t nobody got time for that. Should the message be just the right size and have a little bit of personality, I read it and respond accordingly. So as you read these stories, remember, these were the cream of the online dating crop, so to speak.

A)     Lies About Everything and I planned to meet at a coffee shop after a couple weeks of texting. He seemed cool, collected and a hard worker. All pluses in my books. On the day of said encounter, I walked into the local coffee shop to meet him. Scanning the crowd for a six foot tall, broad shouldered, scruffy faced, toned,  tanned, Brazilian, Soccer playing, stud of a man (as his profile pictures depicted) I was unpleasantly surprised when a stranger walked up to me and said hello. I assumed he was just a rando trying to vie for my attention. Nope. This was my date. A 5’4, wobbly looking, weak jawed, bad face, Mexican man.  I was actually taken aback and probably gasped a laugh, as is my style when shocked I said “you’re not who I’m meeting” and he said “yeah, I am. I look a little different from my pictures, but we get along so well, let’s grab a coffee”. Nope. If you think it’s ok to start a relationship off on lies as big as your face, then you’re doomed to eternity of online dating.

B)      Lispy and I bonded over a mutual love of a canceled tv show. He seemed sensitive and lovely. He picked me up at my house for our first date (yes, I know, it’s a bad idea to let a stranger in your home). It was 5pm on a Saturday though, so still light out, should I need to high tail it up the road, screaming for help. Lispy knocked on the door and I opened it to find a slightly older version of the picture on his dating profile. Not a deal breaker. Then he walked in my house and TOOK OFF HIS SHOES! Umm, hello? I didn’t invite you in for tea. I asked if we were planning on going out and thankfully he got the hint. He took me to… Boston Pizza. At 5pm. On a Saturday. For a first date. I hadn’t really paid attention to much about his voice, except to recognize a very pronounced lisp. I like to think this wouldn’t have been a deal breaker either, that maybe I’m not that shallow. But then he exclaimed “you know the differnth between your houth and my houth ith that you have tho many pictureth and I don’t have anything. I gueth you will have to put thome up for me”. No. Nope. Nope. No. Then when I blank stared at him, he giggled. GIGGLED. For the entire rest of the date, he just giggled. I was home by 6:30 and had enough time to go out with friends for real Saturday night fun. Lispy messaged me the next day asking if he should shave his beard or if I liked the beard. I politely told him I didn’t think it was going to work out between us and I wished him luck in his future endeavours and beard decisions.

C)      The Engineer and I shared messages back and forth online for a VERY long time in the online dating world (three and a half weeks). And these messages were long. It would take me half a day to respond to all the questions and statements. It was going really well, on paper. Engineer was handsome in person and taller than a WNBA players dream. We decided to meet for coffee and upon first sight I was pleasantly surprised… until he spoke. The first thing Engineer said to me was “you changed your hair”. Umm, hi to you too. Yes, I did change my hair. It was about two inches shorter and a tad darker, not a deal breaker when you have an awesome personality like mine. Anyways, the date lasted 45 minutes and then I left and never heard from him again. Until a friend of a friend tried to set me up with him and I guessed who it was within hearing “engineer”. Needless to say, I didn’t meet him, again.

D)     You know those dates that seem to go on forever and you are so excited because they’re just so awesome and you start to imagine more dates that are just as awesome. That’s how Saskatchewan and I were. We started out meeting for coffee and progressed to beers and dinner. It was a solid first date. He wasn’t exactly my style but he was sweet and ambitious. After  a five hour stint of laughing and story sharing, we parted ways. We never talked again. The end.

And that my friends is a little glimpse into my online dating life. There are more stories. Some turned into stories that will span many pages. Some I don’t remember because they were that unimportant. Either way, I learned a lot. I learned that I hate online dating. I learned that the spark and unexplainable, unspoken connection you feel when you meet someone is really important to me, and you can’t find that on a piece of paper or a computer screen. I learned that liking a man’s voice is extremely important. I learned a good first date doesn’t necessarily mean there will be more dates. I learned that I’m not everyone’s type. I learned not to take rejection so hard. I learned that getting along on paper is easy, getting along in person, not so much. #lifelessons

Advertisements

6 Comments

January 12, 2014 · 11:56 PM

This is the story of: The Cop

The cop was a nice man. He was great. He was also a musician (which is a turn on) and a cop to boot. I do love me a man in uniform (take note single fellas – as I’m sure there are sooo many of you uniformed up men reading my blog, naht). We were set up by a coworker of mine (same one who set me up with Mix Cd Guy, only she swore this guy was awesome and admitted she didn’t really know Mix CD Guy all that well, you don’t say!). The best part of the date with The Cop wasn’t what happened on the date, it is what happened before the date. And by best part, I mean worst, obviously.

I’m a big advocate of sleep. And naps. Naps are great. I nap as often as humanly possible. So, I decided to nap before my date with The Cop. When I woke up it was with a jolt, not because my alarm went off, I forgot to set that, but because when I opened my eyes, it was absolutely black outside my window. I jumped out of bed, grabbed my phone and ran to the bathroom. I had exactly 27 minutes to eat and get ready for my date. Being that I have curly hair and straighten it most days and had just napped on it for three hours, I needed to redo it. So I plugged in the straightener and ran to grab whatever food I could get my hands on (I believe it was two cookies, a banana and orange juice, yay me). When I literally ran back to the bathroom to do my hair, I grabbed the straightener and a chunk of hair and… got my face. Yup. I burnt myself on the cheek, severely. I just held that straightener directly against my cheek, not even noticing that I had a chunk of gray skin hanging off my right cheek. Obviously, I FREAKED THE FUCK OUT!! And just as I am gawking at my burnt skin, thinking about crying, feeling adrenaline rushing through my entire body, and realizing there is a very real  possibility of a lifelong scar, The Cop texts me to say he’s running about thirty minutes late. Perfect. I put ice on my wound and do my makeup (around the gross gray chunk of face I now have) and figure that if The Cop turns out to be weird or boring, I can go for shock factor and say it’s a gang related incident.

He wasn’t boring (I have yet to use a gang related injury to shock a date, sad face). He was nice. No spark and not my type, but a nice guy. A little curious about my burn though. Being that I used to be a super nervous dater, I think he thought I was lying about how I got my burn… oh well. The Cop and I kept in touch and occasionally still talk. Before I left the big city, he even tried to set me up with someone, but the guys name was Prince and that shit ain’t cool. By the way, my face completely healed and I have no scar. Thank you genetics.

Leave a comment

Filed under Dating, Love Life Problems

This is the story of: Doctor

Doctor. Now, this story sounds like it would be promising, considering I met a Doctor… but… it’s me. We met at a night club. Yup, is anyone else sensing a theme with this phase of my life? It didn’t matter if I was dead exhausted, sick, crampy, or injured, you mention the words “night club” and my response was “yes, please” as I held out my cup to be filled with vodka. Anyways, I was at one of my favorite places in Vancouver and (this is all a bit hazy in my own mind, but I got the details from Doctor and my girl friends) I was walking down the stairs from the upper dance floor to the lower and was ‘beckoned’ to by a handsome man. He asked my name, I told him Mercedes (because ain’t nobody giving out their real name at a night club to a posse of men), he asked my number, I gave him a fake. He immediately texted me and asked me to check my phone. Caught. After we laughed about it and he assured me he was a nice man, I gave him my real name (not even close to Mercedes) and number and then danced away in the crowd to drink vodka waters and shake my hips to some music.

I heard from Doctor the next day (men in Vancouver seem to be rather keen on the contacting front, which is more than fine by me). We made a plan to go out for drinks (after swapping facebook information, I needed to refresh my memory after all the vodka). He picked me up at my ‘house’ (in reality it was a block over and down from my house, can’t be too safe people!) and he was in a Lexus. Excuse me!? We made small talk on our way to some Russian vodka pub (turns out he’s Russian and reallllly likes the Vodka, if you can pick up where I’m going with this, good for you). We went to this pub and had a drink and small talk. All was good , except his weird ass accent. Then we went to another pub where he plays guitar sometimes. So here I am on a date with a DOCTOR who PLAYS THE GUITAR and I’m kind of proud of drunk me, she’s really redeeming herself to sober me. *Side bar: Drunk me had made out with a dude with a massive unibrow quite recently before this* Doctor and I have another drink, then he has another, and another, and yet, another. Then he gets up to play another tune on the ole guitar (one he wrote, nbd) and he chips his tooth on the microphone. No lie. Chips his mother effin front tooth because he is so wastey pants. I would give him props for finishing the song, but he didn`t know he chipped his tooth until I pointed it out. To say the least, I got in a cab and went home. Doctor and I texted a bit for a while after that (I had to make sure he got his tooth fixed). After the appropriate amount of time I stopped responding to his texts.

To end this story, I will let you all know that Doctor texted me on my birthday (five months after we initially met), so he gets props for that (I’m choosing to view it as sweet and not creepy). I still think of him every time I think of the disease that killed Bob Marley.

Leave a comment

Filed under Dating, Love Life Problems