So online dating.
We've all seen the match.com commercials where the two super attractive people do a little interview before meeting and look all shy and nervous. Then they walk up and hug and you can practically see the sparks fly. Cut to them cracking jokes while sipping wine and talking about how they can't wait until their second date. First of all, on the level of attractiveness of these two people, I call motherfuckin bullshit. Two extremely attractive people do not need online dating. If you can bounce a quarter off your ass and your penis hasn't stayed in your pants longer than a day in decades, you don't need to troll for dick on the internet.
Now don't get me wrong. I'm not mocking online dating or judging people who go there. I'll prove why in a minute. I'm merely saying that people who have douchey guys or slutty chicks with fake tits lining up to buy them drinks at a bar don't cry themselves to sleep at night cuddling an empty bottle of wine and trying to get their shitty cable to connect to Skinemax so they can pretend they got some action.
Because I HAVE woken up next to an empty bottle of champagne (or two) and an empty bag of Doritos (or two), I decided what the hell, what do I have to lose? My dignity? Left somewhere at my brother's Halloween party last year. Or maybe at my family Christmas party when I took off my pants and let my family members take pictures and then tried to bone a 20 year old. That's neither here nor there. The long and short of it is that I have no pride so that wasn't an obstacle.
Enter this fun little rape den called okcupid.com. First of all I knew I wasn't classy enough for match.com and I couldn't quote you shit from the Bible so eharmony was out of the question. I don't actually want to get gang banged so plentyofdicksinthesea or whatever the hell that site is was out of the question. Okcupid seemed like a good balance between trolling for dick and actually trying to meet a person who wasn't featured on To Catch A Predator. Thus, one Friday night after two bottles of wine and a muscle relaxer or two, plus I'll be honest shedding a few tears during "Just Friends", I signed up and started the journey.
I decided that instead of trying to be cute and coy like all the other lonely bitches, I would go the "being true to myself" route and letting the bitterness and sarcasm out. I figured this would weed out the dudes just looking to put it in a warm crevice. No whorebag dude wants to penetrate the girl who might make a snide comment about their unusually large left testicle. At least that was my theory. So I create what I thought was a pretty awesome profile and taking a deep breath and another chug of wine hit submit.
I kid you not, within 30 seconds I got my first message. I was intrigued, kind of excited. Open it up. Here's the gist of it:
"Hi. My girlfriend and I think you are smokin hot. She's 32 and was in playboy twice. We want to meet you somewhere and discuss the three of us hanging out. Let me know if you're interested. She's hot. You're hot. Hope to hear from you."
Wow. I guess that took a nasty shit on my theory of weeding out the penetrators. I sent a message back politely declining the offer. I'm pretty sure I alluded to Hef's jizz being equivalent to dust but that last chug of wine pretty much did me in and I can't quite remember what my reply said. Pretty sure it was awesome though. Of course.
For the next three days my phone constantly blew up with emails with subject lines like "Rowdytexan is checking you out right now!". OMG! Rowdytexan is checking me out! Holy shit! Dreams DO come true. I decided to give it a week. Then I met my first stalker. Homeboy emailed me three times within 10 minutes. The last one, quoted word for word. I promise. Get your barf bag ready:
"I love your smile. It lights up my day. And your eyes compliment your hair. And you look so happy. I would love to meet you. I feel like we're soul mates. What are you doing right now? Can we meet? Tomorrow? Message me back. Please. I'll be on my work computer until I hear back from you. I'm staying at work. Hope to hear from you."
Even though I knew, without a doubt, that this guy could not in any way watch me through my webcam, I checked to be sure it was turned off four times. I still didn't even trust it so I put tape over it. Then I locked all my doors and windows even though I knew he couldn't get me and it was 150 mother fucking degrees in my apartment. This was the end of my online dating experience. Where the fuck was that guy from Dateline with the bad hair when I needed him? I'm pretty sure this guy wasn't just looking for lemonade and home baked cookies.
The ego boosts were cool. It was nice to have people tell you you're hot. Even if that person is 54 years old and wacking off to my picture and trying to watch me through my webcam. Which is turned off. God dammit I need to check again. Ok, we're good.
The lesson I learned is that I would prefer to troll at bars. No one on okcupid ever bought me a drink and tried to grab my ass in public. Call me old fashioned but I still believe in a little bit of romance.
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