When I started this blog a lot of my friends were more than willing to volunteer hilarious stories of dates gone wrong. One friend, we'll call her Mona Lisa, had a story for me.
She met Pete on-line, actually through the same dating service where I met Fiasco and CrazySisterKisser. Mona Lisa and Pete met up, went to his place and hooked up, it was while she was in the bathroom after completing the deed that she began to notice something wasn't quite right. There was girl shampoo, conditioner, and soap in the shower. There were distinctly 'woman' products throughout the bathroom. Mona Lisa recalled that it had been a single bedroom apartment and began to worry. It could be he and girlfriend recently broke up and he didn't throw out her stuff yet, maybe a friend is staying, maybe he's got a sister visiting, there are plenty of reasons for the bathroom to look as if it is inhabited by a woman. Still, Mona Lisa asks Pete.
Pete hems and haws and finally admits he still lives and sleeps with his 'ex'-girlfriend because they don't want to break the lease and they get along. Not to worry, it's ok that he's seeing Mona Lisa, the 'ex'-girlfriend won't mind.
Well, my girl Mona Lisa didn't appreciate the deception and Pete's story wasn't checking out. She tells him that when the 'ex'-girlfriend is gone to give her a call.
Fast forward one year.
Pete, calles Mona Lisa. He's moved, broke up with girlfriend, does she want to come over? Mona Lisa agrees, he makes dinner, they hang out, they hook up. She goes to the bathroom...and there it is. A bathroom full of girl products. Again. This time it's a two bedroom apartment, a quick snoop confirms the second room is not being in habited, it's full of boxes, there's no bed, no one is living there. Pete becomes RePete. She confronts him.
RePete hems and haws and finally admits he still lives and sleeps with his 'ex'-girlfriend because they get along. Not to worry, it's ok that he's seeing Mona Lisa, the 'ex'-girlfriend won't mind. (If it feels familiar its because it is)
Mona Lisa is has had enough. She tells him she's done, she grabs her stuff and she leaves. Laughing at the absurdatiy of the situation.
Fast forward one year.
RePete calls. Tells her he doesn't live with the 'ex'-girlfriend and does she want to come over. Mona Lisa's boyfriend declines on her behalf.
Fast forward one year.
RePete didn't called back.
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Saturday, June 18, 2011
"The entire movie is lit with lasers..."
This is the story of how much I love Roommate. She went out with LaserBoy for coffee, it wasn't great, he didn't have enough to cover her coffee (didn't offer - she hadn't expected him to pay so it was "okay"), nor did he have enough to leave tip for their waitress. Roommate, who I dearly love, complained about him for a good...evening after the date. We had a few drinks, sat on the porch and smoked and made fun of him. It was hilarious. Less than a week later she invited him over for dinner, as friends.
We made him the same meal we made for DDM. It was delicious. LB was more interesting, could tell stories and he like the enchiladas. WIN. He also drank. A LOT. We started with martinis. I love them, as does Roommate, still we know that one should drink responsibly. LB finished, ask for another drink, asked what liquors we had (drank a ton of rum or whiskey...maybe just some of each), then finished our beer (at least 4 beers). As I watched him literally finish multiple bottles of our alcohol I noticed he was annoying.
He once went home with a stranger he met on the metro to try drugs and followed him to the roof where he (the stranger) talked about murder.
Roommate and I grew up in/near Gettysburg respectively. We had funny ghost stories that we were swapping and some from our friend. It was a light and funny conversation about ghosts in areas where we lived. LB decided to tell the story of a failed haunted house, when questioned where the haunted house was he simple stated, "Prague" and burped.
LB burped. All through dinner, after dinner, while he was drinking our alcohol, and while he was smoking Roommate's cigarettes. He also was one of those white kids who comes from extreme privilege, bragging about where he's been, what he's done but somehow still managed the whole, 'woe is me' thing.
It wasn't until LB decided to tell us about a movie his friend made. 18mm film. Lit entirely, get this, by lasers. The movie is follows the path of the bullet through a guy's brain. He's been murdered and it follows the bullet through various parts of the brain. I wanted to die. This guy took hipster to a professional level. I couldn't handle it.
Throughout the night I had been reminding Roommate that I had to be at my weekend job at 8am, was she sure she could drop me off? LB stated he had to be on the metro by 2am. We gaped. SERIOUSLY. Finally, around 10 I told my roommate I was going to bed, but asked to leave my dog out with them because...she needed that space, really it was to keep LB from trying something, Dog doesn't like it when boys get upon me or Roommate.
About 2 hours later I heard the door close and I sprinted out. I was starving and there was delicious food in the fridge. Roommate came back 15minutes later to find me eating on the couch with drinks made and cigarettes ready. We had a grand time making fun of the burping, bragging, hipster.
We made him the same meal we made for DDM. It was delicious. LB was more interesting, could tell stories and he like the enchiladas. WIN. He also drank. A LOT. We started with martinis. I love them, as does Roommate, still we know that one should drink responsibly. LB finished, ask for another drink, asked what liquors we had (drank a ton of rum or whiskey...maybe just some of each), then finished our beer (at least 4 beers). As I watched him literally finish multiple bottles of our alcohol I noticed he was annoying.
He once went home with a stranger he met on the metro to try drugs and followed him to the roof where he (the stranger) talked about murder.
Roommate and I grew up in/near Gettysburg respectively. We had funny ghost stories that we were swapping and some from our friend. It was a light and funny conversation about ghosts in areas where we lived. LB decided to tell the story of a failed haunted house, when questioned where the haunted house was he simple stated, "Prague" and burped.
LB burped. All through dinner, after dinner, while he was drinking our alcohol, and while he was smoking Roommate's cigarettes. He also was one of those white kids who comes from extreme privilege, bragging about where he's been, what he's done but somehow still managed the whole, 'woe is me' thing.
It wasn't until LB decided to tell us about a movie his friend made. 18mm film. Lit entirely, get this, by lasers. The movie is follows the path of the bullet through a guy's brain. He's been murdered and it follows the bullet through various parts of the brain. I wanted to die. This guy took hipster to a professional level. I couldn't handle it.
Throughout the night I had been reminding Roommate that I had to be at my weekend job at 8am, was she sure she could drop me off? LB stated he had to be on the metro by 2am. We gaped. SERIOUSLY. Finally, around 10 I told my roommate I was going to bed, but asked to leave my dog out with them because...she needed that space, really it was to keep LB from trying something, Dog doesn't like it when boys get upon me or Roommate.
About 2 hours later I heard the door close and I sprinted out. I was starving and there was delicious food in the fridge. Roommate came back 15minutes later to find me eating on the couch with drinks made and cigarettes ready. We had a grand time making fun of the burping, bragging, hipster.
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Dull Dimwitted Man
I met Dull Dimwitted Man on Dating site. He was not a creeper. Success! He was the first guy I met online who I later met in person (so really I've only gone downhill). He was the most dull, dimwitted man I have ever met. We had talked for MONTHS via text and messages on DatingSite. He was funny, he was sweet, he seemed normal, we decided to meet. We'd been talking long enough that my roommate and I agreed to just have him to the apartment for dinner, she stayed and Bobo had taken to 'protecting' when men came in the house so if things when south...she'd growl while Roommate called the cops or screamed or something.
Now, when I asked DDM what to make for dinner he had said, "Not salad" I asked if he was adverse to all vegetables he said no, and he didn't want fish, either. Roommate and I made margaritas and came up with a menue. Roommate and I made an amazing meal; green rice, vegetarian enchiladas, and Roommate and I got Mochi for my dessert and some Apple thing with gluten for them. Seriously, we ate those enchiladas for DAYS we loved them that much.
DDM comes in, we introduce BoBo, she doesn't kill him, we're ok. We do the polite, "Can we get you a drink" thing, and we finish setting the table and we sit down, and I'm at the head of the table with DDM and Roommate on either side and DDM talks to Roommate the ENTIRE time. We give him a good 45 minutes to look at me, or ask a question, or form a sentence that doesn't revolve around himself, and he just doesn't. It was as if it took too much effort to slightly turn his head to address me, or show the slightest bit of interest in either myself or Roommate. In addition to this, he actually said the words, in a serious manner, "My parents are kind of a big deal where I'm from." Where he is from is a bumfuck town in upstate New York with a military base nearby. He had a lot of stories. His dad once got drunk with their sheriff on election night, like fall-off-the-barstool-drunk. That's the story. The entire story. Oh, wait, I'm sorry, his dad had to help count ballots. THAT'S the story. Every story he told was dull and slow and boring.
I was a girl on a blind date, I had an out, and a friend who had the guy's full name and picture so, when he brutally murdered me, Roommate, and BoBo, SVU's Eliot and Olivia would be able to track him down and punish the bastard. Also, she was to call 45 minutes into the meeting with an emergency. She did, right on time, I take the call. CRISIS! All the pipes in her house have exploded, her cat is having a species crisis and wants to have surgery to become a dog...and I think there was something else, but I had stepped onto the porch because I was laughing so hard I was crying. I told her I thought we could make it through dessert, we'd just popped it in the oven, maybe he was still nervous (this isn't the moment to mention that I found him totally unattractive). I go back in, tell DDM and Roommate L has a bit of a crisis but said it could wait until we were done eating.
Roommate and I finish the dishes, at this point I've consistantly arranged myself in the kitchen so Roommate is between DDM and myself and am avoiding conversation. He managed to insult every girlfriend he's ever had in about 10 minutes (calling one a "fat cow"). Probably not the best way to win over a woman. The timer beeps and dessert is finished. We take it out, it's cold, needs another twenty minutes. I panic. I absolutely CANNOT have this man in my house for another twenty minutes. He's so boring I can feel the tears welling in my eyes and I snap. I demand Roommate and I immediately comfort L in her time of crisis.
At this point I've given up on subtly. I'm rambling about how there was a training accident at her brother's bootcamp and her parents are flying to Texas to see him but she can't go and we HAVE to be here for her, NOW. Because she was crying, and she never cries, and I'm literally in the closet pulling out coats handing them to DDM, and Roommate and he finally seems to get it, he puts his coat on, still talking about himself. He opens the door to leave and I'm in the kitchen, trying not to cry/laugh and I hear, "You have a package!" I tell him to leave it, and of course he picks it up and brings it in and leaves. Finally.
I collapse to the floor laughing. The asshole had picked at the enchilada and not even eaten half, he'd spilled, he'd made a mess. He'd been self-centered and I couldn't stop laughing. Roommate and I pack up enchiladas and head over to L's for Hawaii Five-0, hot tubbing and rum and coke. We tell her about our horrible date and that the moron hadn't noticed I was laughing while on the phone with L and bought my bullshit story, he texted me about 20 times that night and following day, I, like a coward, ignored them.
Roommate and I still joke about how boring DDM was. We make up additions to the story about his dad and the sheriff, and it gets better with time.
Next week's update will be about Roommate's FailDate that involved me hiding in my room until he left when I burst out to finish eating the DELICIOUS enchiladas that we apparently make for boys we meet online.
Now, when I asked DDM what to make for dinner he had said, "Not salad" I asked if he was adverse to all vegetables he said no, and he didn't want fish, either. Roommate and I made margaritas and came up with a menue. Roommate and I made an amazing meal; green rice, vegetarian enchiladas, and Roommate and I got Mochi for my dessert and some Apple thing with gluten for them. Seriously, we ate those enchiladas for DAYS we loved them that much.
DDM comes in, we introduce BoBo, she doesn't kill him, we're ok. We do the polite, "Can we get you a drink" thing, and we finish setting the table and we sit down, and I'm at the head of the table with DDM and Roommate on either side and DDM talks to Roommate the ENTIRE time. We give him a good 45 minutes to look at me, or ask a question, or form a sentence that doesn't revolve around himself, and he just doesn't. It was as if it took too much effort to slightly turn his head to address me, or show the slightest bit of interest in either myself or Roommate. In addition to this, he actually said the words, in a serious manner, "My parents are kind of a big deal where I'm from." Where he is from is a bumfuck town in upstate New York with a military base nearby. He had a lot of stories. His dad once got drunk with their sheriff on election night, like fall-off-the-barstool-drunk. That's the story. The entire story. Oh, wait, I'm sorry, his dad had to help count ballots. THAT'S the story. Every story he told was dull and slow and boring.
I was a girl on a blind date, I had an out, and a friend who had the guy's full name and picture so, when he brutally murdered me, Roommate, and BoBo, SVU's Eliot and Olivia would be able to track him down and punish the bastard. Also, she was to call 45 minutes into the meeting with an emergency. She did, right on time, I take the call. CRISIS! All the pipes in her house have exploded, her cat is having a species crisis and wants to have surgery to become a dog...and I think there was something else, but I had stepped onto the porch because I was laughing so hard I was crying. I told her I thought we could make it through dessert, we'd just popped it in the oven, maybe he was still nervous (this isn't the moment to mention that I found him totally unattractive). I go back in, tell DDM and Roommate L has a bit of a crisis but said it could wait until we were done eating.
Roommate and I finish the dishes, at this point I've consistantly arranged myself in the kitchen so Roommate is between DDM and myself and am avoiding conversation. He managed to insult every girlfriend he's ever had in about 10 minutes (calling one a "fat cow"). Probably not the best way to win over a woman. The timer beeps and dessert is finished. We take it out, it's cold, needs another twenty minutes. I panic. I absolutely CANNOT have this man in my house for another twenty minutes. He's so boring I can feel the tears welling in my eyes and I snap. I demand Roommate and I immediately comfort L in her time of crisis.
At this point I've given up on subtly. I'm rambling about how there was a training accident at her brother's bootcamp and her parents are flying to Texas to see him but she can't go and we HAVE to be here for her, NOW. Because she was crying, and she never cries, and I'm literally in the closet pulling out coats handing them to DDM, and Roommate and he finally seems to get it, he puts his coat on, still talking about himself. He opens the door to leave and I'm in the kitchen, trying not to cry/laugh and I hear, "You have a package!" I tell him to leave it, and of course he picks it up and brings it in and leaves. Finally.
I collapse to the floor laughing. The asshole had picked at the enchilada and not even eaten half, he'd spilled, he'd made a mess. He'd been self-centered and I couldn't stop laughing. Roommate and I pack up enchiladas and head over to L's for Hawaii Five-0, hot tubbing and rum and coke. We tell her about our horrible date and that the moron hadn't noticed I was laughing while on the phone with L and bought my bullshit story, he texted me about 20 times that night and following day, I, like a coward, ignored them.
Roommate and I still joke about how boring DDM was. We make up additions to the story about his dad and the sheriff, and it gets better with time.
Next week's update will be about Roommate's FailDate that involved me hiding in my room until he left when I burst out to finish eating the DELICIOUS enchiladas that we apparently make for boys we meet online.
Thursday, May 5, 2011
All in the Family
This entry is about a date that didn't.
I had just finished talking to my best friend about Fiasco, reading her the story, much to both our horror (it was my first complete read through) and had decided it was time to go to bed. I logged off Skype and was getting ready to close out of DatingSite when a woman messaged me, I checked her profile, she seemed normal enough and messaged back. We talked for about 10 minutes and then she started discussing her adolescent incest with her older sister. I froze.
The conversation is below (copied from the copy the site keeps record of). Heads up, she started talking about the incest in some detail. Mostly I was flailing and she was typing. I'm taking classes on how to flail more productively, like flail and turn off the computer, or log out of dating sites.
CrazySisterKisser: i made out with my middle sister a couple times
CrazySisterKisser: oi why did i just say that..
CrazySisterKisser: yes...
CrazySisterKisser: well first time. i was 13..
ME: can i ask why this was a thing you did?
CrazySisterKisser: she intiated.. i didn't resist and it felt good..
It gets more awkward now:
CrazySisterKisser: fingered each other..
CrazySisterKisser: then she had me lick her
Me: i feel like that's not healthy.
I would like to point out that I am super awesome at observing, I saw what she said and in all my flailing (which began at the beginning of this conversation and just reached it's climax) I noticed that what she was doing with her sister was not healthy, I was trying to ask if she'd been abused, but she didn't really seem to think so, and i decided if she'd been abused she would have not brought it up yet.
CrazySisterKisser: might not be
CrazySisterKisser: such is life
Me: i suppose. i gotta go to bed, but it was nice talking to you
This was up in the morning when I checked:
CrazySisterKisser: 15
CrazySisterKisser: when with my brother. :P
I had just finished talking to my best friend about Fiasco, reading her the story, much to both our horror (it was my first complete read through) and had decided it was time to go to bed. I logged off Skype and was getting ready to close out of DatingSite when a woman messaged me, I checked her profile, she seemed normal enough and messaged back. We talked for about 10 minutes and then she started discussing her adolescent incest with her older sister. I froze.
The conversation is below (copied from the copy the site keeps record of). Heads up, she started talking about the incest in some detail. Mostly I was flailing and she was typing. I'm taking classes on how to flail more productively, like flail and turn off the computer, or log out of dating sites.
CrazySisterKisser: i made out with my middle sister a couple times
CrazySisterKisser: oi why did i just say that..
CrazySisterKisser: yes...
CrazySisterKisser: well first time. i was 13..
ME: can i ask why this was a thing you did?
CrazySisterKisser: she intiated.. i didn't resist and it felt good..
It gets more awkward now:
CrazySisterKisser: fingered each other..
CrazySisterKisser: then she had me lick her
Me: i feel like that's not healthy.
I would like to point out that I am super awesome at observing, I saw what she said and in all my flailing (which began at the beginning of this conversation and just reached it's climax) I noticed that what she was doing with her sister was not healthy, I was trying to ask if she'd been abused, but she didn't really seem to think so, and i decided if she'd been abused she would have not brought it up yet.
CrazySisterKisser: might not be
CrazySisterKisser: such is life
Me: i suppose. i gotta go to bed, but it was nice talking to you
This was up in the morning when I checked:
CrazySisterKisser: 15
CrazySisterKisser: when with my brother. :P
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Optimistic or Crazy?
I moved to just out side a major city about a year ago. I began dating on-line soon after. I have met many nice guys on-line, I have met these nice guys in person only to learn that they had been body snatched and instead of the nice guy I had talked to there was some awkward looking, socially inept, sex crazed man!boy who had apparently never met/talked to a woman before.
Last week I started talking to a guy (we'll call him Fiasco) through a dating site. He seemed sweet, we were compatible, he was open minded, I was open minded, he wanted to meet, and I was willing to do so.
Fiasco had gained a fair bit of weight since the posted picture had been taken but was losing the weight (dishonest but forgivable), had terrible teeth (going to the gym, unfortunately, won't fix that), was obsessed with tits, had never seen The Godfather (unforgivable), nor did he get any of my nerd references (how had I missed that?). I, occasionally, like to pretend I am not a shallow person. I decided to give the guy a second chance, many of my friends encouraged me to look beyond my personal preferences in regard to physical appearance and give the guy a chance; I intended to do just that. He messaged me immediately upon arriving home (his parent's home where he lives while studying for the bar and not working - why was I going on a second date?). He informed me two of the movies/shows I had suggested he watch weren't available on Netflix or Hulu. I told him to watch Boondock Saints (only because he's from Boston and had never seen the movie). He then messaged me twice through the dating site, messaged me twice on g-chat, texted me twice, and e-mailed me twice, in 3 days.
The second e-mail was why I canceled the date.
In the body of the message he told me he wanted me to look over something he had written since meeting me. He signed the message "Yours, Fiasco" I found this creepy and weird but opened the attachment. He had written a short little smut piece. Staring Me (not even changing my name) and himself, as his female alter-ego. Some history on his female self, his sister and I share a name. She was named after a character from a book (a great book; his mother's favorite book) and in order to get back at his mother for not accepting that he was bi he took this name (in abbreviation) and made it his name for when he's in drag. It is one letter off from what he called me. This made for an awkward read, especially knowing he was essentially writing a story where (S)He was topping me. With his sister's name.
I was, at this point, about 3 words into the fiasco and awkward. I shut the document and did a this-is-awkward-dance and told about half my female friends the situation. And canceled the second date. I then went to bed.
In the morning I opened my e-mail and there it was, glaring at me, I decided to give it a shot. It was disjointed, awkward, terribly confusing due to the similarities in name, poor pronoun agreement, and apparently he had no sense of grammar/punctuation. He knew I was an English major, he should have known I was going to go English major on it.
I finished the page long smut-fest, that involved my head getting shaved, and various other awkward acts that didn't really fly in the world of sexy. I sent it to 4 of my closest friends, luckily, they're still speaking to me. My roommate's response was, "He's going to make a suit out of you."
People, I warn you. (S)He may seem nice, seem compatible in a lot of ways, but may still go home and write awkward porn about you and send it to you. If (s)he does, please, send your story to me. To clarify, don't send the porn in (although, I'd appreciate the laugh), just send a story of the awkwardness the date, the person, and your reaction to being written into a smutty story.
This blog is to give us a place to laugh at the hilarity of it. I rightly could be freaked out and feel violated. Instead, I chose to laugh. I chose to point and laugh and tell my friends because it's the best way to deal with it. And then I decided to start a blog, and continue going on dates, appreciating the crazy ones as well as the good ones.
My next post will not be about a date, but about a chat with a woman who revealed consensual incest from her teenage years.
Last week I started talking to a guy (we'll call him Fiasco) through a dating site. He seemed sweet, we were compatible, he was open minded, I was open minded, he wanted to meet, and I was willing to do so.
Fiasco had gained a fair bit of weight since the posted picture had been taken but was losing the weight (dishonest but forgivable), had terrible teeth (going to the gym, unfortunately, won't fix that), was obsessed with tits, had never seen The Godfather (unforgivable), nor did he get any of my nerd references (how had I missed that?). I, occasionally, like to pretend I am not a shallow person. I decided to give the guy a second chance, many of my friends encouraged me to look beyond my personal preferences in regard to physical appearance and give the guy a chance; I intended to do just that. He messaged me immediately upon arriving home (his parent's home where he lives while studying for the bar and not working - why was I going on a second date?). He informed me two of the movies/shows I had suggested he watch weren't available on Netflix or Hulu. I told him to watch Boondock Saints (only because he's from Boston and had never seen the movie). He then messaged me twice through the dating site, messaged me twice on g-chat, texted me twice, and e-mailed me twice, in 3 days.
The second e-mail was why I canceled the date.
In the body of the message he told me he wanted me to look over something he had written since meeting me. He signed the message "Yours, Fiasco" I found this creepy and weird but opened the attachment. He had written a short little smut piece. Staring Me (not even changing my name) and himself, as his female alter-ego. Some history on his female self, his sister and I share a name. She was named after a character from a book (a great book; his mother's favorite book) and in order to get back at his mother for not accepting that he was bi he took this name (in abbreviation) and made it his name for when he's in drag. It is one letter off from what he called me. This made for an awkward read, especially knowing he was essentially writing a story where (S)He was topping me. With his sister's name.
I was, at this point, about 3 words into the fiasco and awkward. I shut the document and did a this-is-awkward-dance and told about half my female friends the situation. And canceled the second date. I then went to bed.
In the morning I opened my e-mail and there it was, glaring at me, I decided to give it a shot. It was disjointed, awkward, terribly confusing due to the similarities in name, poor pronoun agreement, and apparently he had no sense of grammar/punctuation. He knew I was an English major, he should have known I was going to go English major on it.
I finished the page long smut-fest, that involved my head getting shaved, and various other awkward acts that didn't really fly in the world of sexy. I sent it to 4 of my closest friends, luckily, they're still speaking to me. My roommate's response was, "He's going to make a suit out of you."
People, I warn you. (S)He may seem nice, seem compatible in a lot of ways, but may still go home and write awkward porn about you and send it to you. If (s)he does, please, send your story to me. To clarify, don't send the porn in (although, I'd appreciate the laugh), just send a story of the awkwardness the date, the person, and your reaction to being written into a smutty story.
This blog is to give us a place to laugh at the hilarity of it. I rightly could be freaked out and feel violated. Instead, I chose to laugh. I chose to point and laugh and tell my friends because it's the best way to deal with it. And then I decided to start a blog, and continue going on dates, appreciating the crazy ones as well as the good ones.
My next post will not be about a date, but about a chat with a woman who revealed consensual incest from her teenage years.
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