Monday, June 20, 2011

Dating story #55, a slew of douche-canoes.

I have a new philosophy.

The fact that I've now dated or had some involvement with such a staggering number of douchy dudes is a GOOD thing.  
Good, you ask?
Good, I say!
My theory is that I'm just weeding through them, slowing picking them off.  Like reaching your hand into the ice cold beer trough, weeding through the Nattie Light and PBR just to find the classy bottle of Stella that's settled at the bottom.  Sure, your hand gets wet and cold, uncomfortable and somewhat numb.  But eventually, it's worth it, right?


This leads me to a follow-up on Punz, the Food Dude.

I know many of you enjoyed that last post and felt excited about Punz's potential. 
Shame. On. You.
For some reason, after Punz left my apt that night, post me cooking him a rather EPIC (not to mention quite 'spency) meal, I just had a strange feeling that would be it.  I can't explain why, but turns out, my feelings are somewhat accurate!
We had a small (very small) amount of text banter the next morning. On Wednesday, I found a dog bone under my kitchen table that he had left.  Thinking I was being quite hilarious, I texted him this pic and wrote:
ME: "What do you think I could get for this on Craigslist?"
HIM: "A big fat dick."

ummm....ex'ume, WHAT?
You'll be happy to know I did not respond.  But if I had, it would've said

After that lovely piece of literature, I headed out to meet my friend Mel who is newly single and loving life, tearin' it up like I did last summer. We met at the Standard (again) and I must say that despite the overall hatred most people have for the place, the sheer VOLUME of men makes it a constant success there. I walked in to find tiny Mel holding court with literally FIVE dudes, all above 6 ft tall. It was quite a sight.  Although upon further investigation, most of them seemed to have rocks for brains and less sense of humor than my pinky toe.  I was engaged in a game of eye-ping pong with a muscle-y armed guy who seemed so hot I really couldn't figure out if he was actually looking at ME.
Luckily, he was.
And even better? He was a Brit.
Hello, 50% extra hotness built right in!
Muscle Brit and I hit it off right away and the girls loved him too.  He dragged his dudsville (and possibly mute?) friend with us to another bar, and even gave Mel a piggy-back ride when her heels hurt her.  
Chivalry. Figures it would be a Brit who doesn't live here, right?
It also figures he'd be hot, smart and a wicked good kisser. 
Thanks, universe!
But we had a blast. And maybe I'll see him on my biz trip to London. In November.  Think he'll remember me? Survey says...DOUBTFUL.

Anyway, throughout the whole evening I was engaged in an email/txt situation with 6'4. 'member him?  
Yeah, just when I almost forget about him, he's BACK. Sorta. Kinda.
I just can't figure out what the hell he wants, but my new theory? ENTERTAINMENT.
He hasn't expressed that he want's to see me, per se, but I think he enjoys the amusing banter.  Whatever. At this point I'm more interested to see what the conclusion is.  I've definitely lost any "potential hope" I once had for him.
Here's the textchange:
HIM: I was just randomly thinking of you. Would you like me to tweet you a picture of my junk?
ME: Well, it would be apropos with your future senator aspirations.  
And, randomly?
HIM:  Yes, it's not okay to randomly think of you? Should it be a deliberate and well thought-out occurrence? 
ME:  I'll allow both.  When should I expect my junk tweet? I want to prep myself.
[a day later]
HIM: My Junk
Here's the picture. Please keep between us.  This is solicitous shit.

I must say, I laughed. A lot. It's funny.

So I responded:

ME: Solicitious? That's downright scandalous. Perhaps I should text you a picture of my breast to level the playing field?
HIM: I think it's only fair at this point. Or ass.

So, I sent him both.

He liked it.
We'll see what happens in this game I like to call "Retarded Love."

Is this what it's come down to?
Someone. Anyone.


  1. Retarded Love seems to have seeped across the nation, as I am also dealing with a 6'4 of my own. But I call him Roadster, due to his pretty little car and love for road biking.

    I want to tell him that I don't need a pen pal, and to be honest, why does he? And also, strap on a pair and act your age. Which is physically 37, making him emotionally.....what, 26? Boo. I thought they got better with age....but they seem to only get lazier.

  2. I love your blog, but have you ever thought these guys are googling you and somehow find you and are a little put off by the site? Not that I want you to stop blogging...

  3. I absolutely LOVE your blog! Please don't stop w/ the stories!
    Just know that you are beautiful, brilliant and hilarious. You definitely deserve the best!
    Keep sorting thru all the d-bags, because there will come a time where you will find a diamond in the douche and he will be perfect for you! It may take time, but he'll be out there. Waiting.
    And you make sure you choose the best one, cause you deserve it!
    Just a little sugar for your day.
    Have a good one!

  4. LOVING all your comments!
    Becca-I love it. And clearly, I feel your pain. I love telling guys how much fun I'm having being their "pen pals." Sometimes, this actually gets a message across. But don't hold your breath.
    Laina- Of course I'm always worried someone may find the site, but it's pretty well hidden. If you google my full name, you don't find it. You'd have to know about it in some way or be friends with MIM, since she's one of the only links to me. Plus I'd be shocked if someone didnt mention to me that they found it.
    Anon- Thanks for the sugar! You made me feel like a mill! :)

  5. I thought the dog bone was a piece of hair from far away. Haha!

  6. dude. DUDE. i think the fates are sending you these d-bags because perhaps they are your writing muse. entertaining yet annoying fodder. i am still holding out hope that the fates get the hint & actually send you someone worthy of YOU & not just our reading amusement (& occasional horror). love ya like a fat kid loves cake. xx

  7. I've forgotten to check your blog for quite a while, so there are a lot of new stories here that I needed to catch up on! Fun reading, even though I know it's been more frustrating and confusing for you than fun. I'm sorry about that. But I just have to chime in on the story of 6'4". I'm really wondering: is there any chance that he could be married or in a serious relationship? I know you've dated plenty of guys who disappear on you for no apparent reason, and those stories have never raised the red MARRIED flag for me before. . .but this one. . .that was the first thing that came to mind when I read about your first date and the follow-up. Something just seems really weird about the disparity between more-consistent-than-usual communication but lack of actually seeing each other.

    Allow me to outline some points for argument:

    First, the fact that he kept asking you out for coffee/lunch/daytime stuff. I realize he works in Manhattan and commutes home in the evening, but if a guy is interested (which it seemed like he was) and available (???), I would think there'd be no problem with after-work stuff in the evening. I know a lot of people commute to Manhattan. And when they have social stuff in the city in the evening, they just maybe stay a little late at work, or crash with some friends who live in the city until party time, right? Unless of course there's someone at home who would never catch wind of a lunch/mid-day meetup, but who would certainly question a late night.

    Second, the very fact that he lives. . .where? I don't know the area surrounding Manhattan, but would Long Island City (or wherever it was) be considered the burbs? Could this be maybe more evidence that he's not single?

    Third, the fact that he said he was going through a "difficult move." Huh? Why difficult? Yes, moving sucks, takes up a lot of time for a couple of weeks, and it's always a pain. But why the specific characterization of "difficult"? Normally people just say something like "Ugh, I'm moving and I've hardly packed anything yet. Have to get on it." or something. Maybe he characterized it in that awkward way because the move is difficult because he's getting separated? Or going through a trial break-up? Or maybe the move was a total lie, just an excuse for why he wasn't available in the evenings?

    And finally, his whole story about why he was on the dating site in the first place. . .strikes me as genuine. But if he was ONLY on the site because his work asked him to create a profile to see how it works, isn't it entirely plausible that a company could just as easily ask a married/attached guy to see how something works as a single guy? I have this scenario in my head where this attached guy is asked to see how the possible client's website works. . .he's on there, checking it out. . .he ends up getting a genuine response from a girl who happens to be GORGEOUS, and she wants to meet him. . .he keeps up casual communication for a while, because he has NO intention of cheating, but that bastard male inside of him can't quite walk away from the ego stroking either. . .after all, he IS male, and she IS hot. . .he finally gives in to the temptation to meet her, but once he's done that, he realizes he's in over his head. . .goes back to the casual communication. . .has no real intention of seeing her again. . .but still can't quite walk away from the ego boost of communicating with a hot girl even though he's in a relationship.

    Okay, having written all of that out, I now feel like I probably look like a psycho who has put way too much thought into this. Ha. I really haven't, that's the whole scenario that spun itself out in my head just as I was reading the two posts about the guy. I'm really not a girl who develops a conspiracy theory about every flaky guy. This one just sends up red flags for me, and I wonder if the possibility has crossed your mind too?

  8. Who do I talk to around here to get another post?