I apologize in advance for my uninspired and insipid writing. I am merely recording a sad day in my life for the great unwashed masses, and I cannot bear the additional burden of writing too artfully; I am exhausted and worn thin.
Yeah, okay, I saw the signs. Yellow 'reply rate' on OkCupid (my theory is that it correlates directly with BMI, with green being the lumbering shoggoths of the dating scene, and the red ones edging ever gamefully into fuckability). One single picture - her face looked sorta thin, but you couldn't quite see her frame well, loose pullover. Well thought out profile. I knew better.
Her profile was funny and she seemed nice though, but the warning signs kept creeping up as the week went on - she was very reliable with texts, had a job, and she got to the bar first. (I should have cut and run right when I got THAT text message.)
I'll spare the rough physical details, but in her case, 'average' frame meant average for a door frame. I couldn't make eye contact for the first 5 minutes of sitting across from her.
I was disgusted with myself for falling into the trap. I turned off player mode and speechified about evo psych (one of the things that interests me besides my FUCKING BAND AND MY ALBUM RELEASE PARTY THE DAY BEFORE). I made sure to drop a few daggers in about 'hourglass figures' and mate fitness and whatnot, but as far as I was concerned the date was over the instant I pulled the curtain at the booth over to reveal a sleeping bear. I had no interest in doing anything, except possibly seeing the rationalization hamster at work in front of me - but that might be rationalization of my own since if I'd have had my balls with me...
She ordered two whiskeys (one at a time) and played with her hair, trying too hard to be interesting and funny and whatnot. Which meant I made the grand bitch poobah mistake of sticking around too long to 'just be nice'. Which wasn't nice to me and it wasn't nice to her since maybe she could have gone home and done something interesting with the rest of her evening (or just stuffed her face with Ben and Jerry's.. but I digress).
I asked her how her online dating experience had been so far. She talked about all the boring Microsoft guys she'd been dating, with guys calling her and whatnot, and she just couldn't get into them. I stifled my horror - these good men, taxpayers, pillars of society - reduced to supplicating themselves to such a she-hulk? I was aghast - not for her temerity, as brazen as it was, but for the fallen state of man around us.
The tab came to $26.12. From now on, whenever I go on a date, I will write $26.12 on my wrist, and keep it with me as a reminder of my folly, to ditch when necessary to save one's pride, and to never again finance the endemic fattening of the American woman by subsidizing her alcohol. I may have possibly brutalized her ego a bit, but I take no true joy in that.
God help me if I fail again.
Yeah, okay, I saw the signs. Yellow 'reply rate' on OkCupid (my theory is that it correlates directly with BMI, with green being the lumbering shoggoths of the dating scene, and the red ones edging ever gamefully into fuckability). One single picture - her face looked sorta thin, but you couldn't quite see her frame well, loose pullover. Well thought out profile. I knew better.
Her profile was funny and she seemed nice though, but the warning signs kept creeping up as the week went on - she was very reliable with texts, had a job, and she got to the bar first. (I should have cut and run right when I got THAT text message.)
I'll spare the rough physical details, but in her case, 'average' frame meant average for a door frame. I couldn't make eye contact for the first 5 minutes of sitting across from her.
I was disgusted with myself for falling into the trap. I turned off player mode and speechified about evo psych (one of the things that interests me besides my FUCKING BAND AND MY ALBUM RELEASE PARTY THE DAY BEFORE). I made sure to drop a few daggers in about 'hourglass figures' and mate fitness and whatnot, but as far as I was concerned the date was over the instant I pulled the curtain at the booth over to reveal a sleeping bear. I had no interest in doing anything, except possibly seeing the rationalization hamster at work in front of me - but that might be rationalization of my own since if I'd have had my balls with me...
She ordered two whiskeys (one at a time) and played with her hair, trying too hard to be interesting and funny and whatnot. Which meant I made the grand bitch poobah mistake of sticking around too long to 'just be nice'. Which wasn't nice to me and it wasn't nice to her since maybe she could have gone home and done something interesting with the rest of her evening (or just stuffed her face with Ben and Jerry's.. but I digress).
I asked her how her online dating experience had been so far. She talked about all the boring Microsoft guys she'd been dating, with guys calling her and whatnot, and she just couldn't get into them. I stifled my horror - these good men, taxpayers, pillars of society - reduced to supplicating themselves to such a she-hulk? I was aghast - not for her temerity, as brazen as it was, but for the fallen state of man around us.
The tab came to $26.12. From now on, whenever I go on a date, I will write $26.12 on my wrist, and keep it with me as a reminder of my folly, to ditch when necessary to save one's pride, and to never again finance the endemic fattening of the American woman by subsidizing her alcohol. I may have possibly brutalized her ego a bit, but I take no true joy in that.
God help me if I fail again.
Check out my occasionally updated travel thread - The Wroclaw Gambit II: Dzięki Bogu - as I prepare to emigrate to Poland.