SO… interspersed throughout my broadly judgmental musings on dating, I thought I’d include some personal accounts of particular men (names will be changed…. obvi) or archetypes of men. I’ve asked some friends to help contribute to this sub-series, so we should get quite the smattering of dates gone wrong, awkward text strings and uncomfortable online connections.
In that vein, welcome to the “THAT Guy” collection – take one. I thought I’d start us off with one that I’ve encountered several times. Yes – several. Sigh…
Let me set the scene first by saying that I’ve learned the guys you meet online don’t like to write back and forth using the dating site’s cheesy e-mail system for long – they’d prefer to talk or text. And you know what? I’m cool with that! So, I’ll give my number out pretty liberally… I mean…what’s the harm in that?
So usually it’ll start off with him shooting me an innocuous text to put himself on my radar (and my phone). We’ll text some easy-going stuff back and forth for a couple of minutes – you know: what part of town do you live in; where do you like to eat; etc. I use this opportunity to display my sparkling literary wit.
And after some flirty & introductory text banter, I’d expect that what SHOULD come next, is either a phone call where we can get to know each other a little better, or a simple invitation to hang out sometime in the near future. This doesn’t need to be a full-on DATE – just a chance to see each other and continue the process of exploration.
But, oh… no…. it’s SO not that simple. Here’s what’s happened to me multiple times – [enter McSmarmy, stage left].
We text for a few minutes, then there’s a break and I don’t hear from him for a few hours.
Cut to 11:30 that night. A text comes in from McSmarmy….
wait….. you know what? Why don’t I just type out the ACTUAL text string for you so you can draw your own conclusions. And yes – this REALLY happened. I’ve only removed expletives. And, (naturally), added in my own personal running commentary in italics. (I mean… c’mon…. did you expect anything less?)
Scene: It’s 11:30 at night on a Tuesday – I’m in my owl pajamas and fuzzy socks, in bed playing Words-With-Friends while my two sweet children are fast asleep in the room right next to mine.
McSmarmy: Hey cutie. Whatcha doin? “Cutie?” We’ve never met… how does he know I’m cute? I mean… I am… I’m adorable. But still…. it’s presumptuous and annoying…
Me: Hey there. Just headin’ off to bed.
McS: Cool. So, what part of town do you live in?
Me: I’m in the Heights. You?
McS: I’m in Montrose…we’re close. We should meet up and hang out soon
Me: That sounds great!
McS: How about now?
Me: You’re joking, right?
McS: No! Where do you live?
Me: …..um…… Dude, I haven’t even MET you yet…?
McS: That’s why I want to come over silly! I’ll bring a bottle of wine and we’ll hang out. Apparently “hang out” now means “late night booty call.” Keep it classy, Houston…
Me: Wine? Man, …I’m in BED! It’s a “school night,” my children are asleep in the room next to me, and…. did I mention I’ve never met you?
McS: C’mon. You’ll have fun. I promise. To continue with the code language, ‘fun’ must now mean ‘have an orgasm.’ Which…even if I WAS interested (which I wasn’t)…. let’s be honest – the kind of guy who’s barking up THIS tree at this time… isn’t exactly instilling confidence in me that he’s a generous lover… I’m just sayin’….
Me: in an attempt to diffuse this awkward situation with humor AND to let him know that the problem here (aside from the inconvenience) is me being protective and smart and not wanting to put myself in a potentially dangerous situation… Great. Will you be bringing your OWN set of torture devices or are you just planning on being extemporaneous with whatever you find here?
McS: Oh, are you going all prude on me?
Me: If “prude” means smart…then… I guess so!
McS: And you wonder why you’re single. audible gasp on my end. This is my life now…
Me: Wow…. Well, Judgy McJudgerson… I guess if wanting a guy to buy me a glass of wine in public first is old-fashioned, then… call me Single Mama on the Prairie.
McS: I know exactly who you are. You’re that princess-y girl who wants every guy to kiss your [butt]. I’m not that guy.
Me: nothing. I didn’t text back. I was done.
McS: I mean, I’m offering you a good time, not proposing marriage. And I’m not a dangerous creeper (really? REALLY?)
McS: This is the problem with women like you – you’re all “I want to find a man,” and then when one comes along, (so…he classifies himself as a MAN….interesting), you act all bi***y and [I can’t type out the rest of what he said…there aren’t enough symbols on my keyboard to cover all the colorful language…but you get the point.)
So – yeah. And, lest you think I was done with that guy… he texted me the next morning: “Morning, meanie.”
Yup. Yeah. Uh huh.
And, sadly, this isn’t the only time this has happened! At least 3 other guys have asked to come over or for me to come to their place, sight unseen. Is this what dating has come to? I don’t even get to be wined and dined a TEENSY bit? Are all the singles in their 30’s that are left out there, only looking for non-committal sex? And I could write a whole other post (perhaps I shall!) on guys who take you out ONCE, but because you don’t put-out on that first date (which I NEVER will), won’t ask you out again. Crazy.
So – I wait. And hope…. that there are still a few good ones left… heck, I only need one. JUuuuuust one (insert Anjelah Johnson’s voice from her bit on nail salons here). Is that too much to ask?