Also Known As.....

I must have the most neglected blog I've ever seen. Wiping off the layers of dust to write this, in fact. I have been quite busy, I do have some stories to tell. There is one in particular that I wasn't sure I wanted to share, but I feel it is my civic duty to womankind. Okay, maybe that's a little over the top. Here it is anyway.

I recently signed up on a dating site, the merits of which we can discuss at a later time. It's been mostly amusing if not always truly funny. Ladies, we all know there are Bad Men out there and I have run into my fair share lately. I'll give you the short list.

Chicken Man. Falls under the category of Crazy Obsessive Psychotic Asshole.

I get an email from this guy, profile isn't exactly what I'm looking for, but it's decent so I write him back. By the second email I figure out he's just a bit too weird for me. The biggest clue I got was when he told me how much he enjoyed riding his bike with the trailer on it to the grocery store. He made quite the deal out of it and what he's doing for the environment. I'm all for doing my part, but on this day it was pouring down rain. If you've ever seen my shoes, you'd know I'm not the kind of girl who wants to ride a bike in the rain to pick up groceries. I prefer the warm, dry convenience of a car. I don't think that's too much to ask for, really. I didn't write back.

After a couple of days I get an email from him telling me that I must not be "sincere after all" and wishing me luck. Okay. You too, buddy. Weeks later I wake up to an email from Chicken Man asking if my "boob shot" gets me real men. This is followed up with an apology because when I didn't answer his past email he felt "unrequited." Seriously? Let me tell you, this was the wrong morning to mess with me. I replied in a not-very-nice way, saying I owed him nothing and it's no mystery why he is single. Unfortunately, this only served to fuel his psychotic need to harass and insult me. Needless to say, he was blocked from contacting me again.

FBI Guy. Categorized under Extreme Control Freak.

FBI Guy emails me. An intelligent email, an interesting profile. He's in the FBI. (I know because I googled him. Google can be a very important tool in the dating world.) A few emails later, he gives me his phone number. We talk. He lives on the other side of the country and asks if this eliminates him. Nope. Not yet. I get a very sweet email the next morning. (Prince Charming after all?) Followed by a not-so-sweet email telling me I have too many "walls" and I'm not making it easy for him. Um. Yeah, I'm just not willing to move across the country in less than 24 hours. Sorry.

That evening, FBI Guy makes a point of letting me know that he saw me online without him. Excuse me? Did I exchange wedding vows at some point during the day that I'm not aware of? Was I supposed to remove my profile after one phone call? Yeah, now you're eliminated.

Airplane Guy.

Airplane Guy is actually not a Bad Guy. As far as I can tell he is a Good Guy. I would be more than happy to set anyone up with him, in fact. But for me, he is Boring Guy.

Airplane Guy never loosened up. He was polite and courteous, shy. Sincere, dependable and reliable, all good qualities. Probably good Husband Material even. But he bored me. No flirting. Didn't feel like I could talk about South Park or Family Guy. I found myself censoring my own potty mouth, which isn't necessarily a bad thing, but I was bored. And it's just not right when a girl can't be herself. Maybe I didn't really give him a chance, but I didn't think it was right to lead him on. He's out there, ladies. I can point you in his direction if you're interested.

Any guy who hunts, fishes and is over 50 is put into the category of I Either Don't Read or Don't Care What Your Profile Says.

Really, when I say that I like sushi and wine tasting, what makes you think I'm interested in redneck activities? Riding quads? Again, if you've seen my shoes, you know I'm not. Never have been, never will be. And it's bad enough that a large number of men my age look like they're 50. I don't actually want to date someone who is 50. Or 54. Please, don't waste our time.

It's enough to make me want to give up, really. This would satisfy D of course. According to her, I don't need to date or have sex ever again. She says it's just "not right." It would seem she is still as hung up on Mr. X and The Boy as I am.

I have a month left on my membership and, unless the situation improves, I won't be renewing it. It's hardly worth it at this point, even if it has provided some good laughs. I'm not really after laughs though. I can get that from my friends without the harassment and attempts at control. For free, too. Gotta love my girls!