What’s Match Like for Hot Chicks?

Even hot girls have it rough.

I was going through my emails last night, doing my best to respond to everyone (I’m trying, I promise!), when all of a sudden…a diamond appeared. It was a note from a reader, and it was amazing. My first thought was to include it in this month’s Awful Story Olympics, but then I realized it needed to be more. “More than a fake competition you made up for your dating blog that involves pictures of prizes instead of actual prizes? How can anything be more than that?” you ask. (You’re getting to be kind of a dick, by the way). Yes – even more than that. This message needed its own column, because it revealed the answer to one of life’s great questions. What is Internet dating like if you’re a really hot chick? I know! Awesome, right?

The reader’s name is Olivia, and I’m sure every guy reading this has emailed his fair share of Olivias. I know I have. You wonder why they’re even on Match, and how one could ever be noticed in the torrent of emails they surely receive. If you’re a lady, you’ve probably seen an Olivia and thought “oh, give it a rest.” Hell, I’m sure I have. No one has a lot of sympathy for hot girls. But after reading this, perhaps you will…

Olivia: At the risk of coming of narcissistic, I’ll admit that I am an attractive girl. I’m 5’10”, slender, blonde hair. I travel for a living which most people find intriguing, Ivy League-educated, and have guys always telling me I’m the quintessential “dream girl”. So in other words, I get a LOT of emails on match. My first day I had 179 and average about 50 daily since then.

B: I’m sorry, let me repeat that. 50 EMAILS A DAY. 50! 179 emails on her first day?! Think of that next time you want to send something lamely uninspired, or are wondering why a fetching girl didn’t write you back. Because 49 other guys hit her up at the exact same time. And her job, most likely, is not “Writing Emails to Dudes I Don’t Know.”

Now, do I have any reason to believe this? Have I seen a photo of Olivia? No I have not. But to me, it just sounds true. Why exaggerate your appeal in an email to some writer you’ll never meet, right? ALSO, she sent me this: a copy of her Match dashboard. It’s insane.

78 new emails, 3811 profile views, and 182 people making Olivia a favorite. You know how many people have made me a favorite? 2, and one of them is in Poland. Honestly, 3811 profile views is one of the craziest numbers I’ve ever seen. I had no idea the counter even went into quadruple digits! So really, anyone still doubting that Olivia’s pretty hot?

(As an aside, I love that even with all this attention, she’s still received zero phone alerts. That new function’s working out great, Match!)

OK, back to the email…

OAll these emails mean I end up not responding to the vast majority of them just due to the sheer number. Most guys take it easy and move on, some attempt second emails (which is usually successful), sometimes even third (which is never successful), but most generally understand: if a girl doesn’t respond, she’s not interested and don’t get upset over it.

The other day I got this email from someone who was NOT happy that I did not respond:

“I’m sorry if I was not hot enough in few pics on a website to get a reply from a supermodel(sarcasm) like you, based on your pics you think way too high of yourself, see I accept being average looking, hence the email to you. Be open to more possibilities than that dream guy/prince charming/underwear model/rich man who will NEVER email you and doesnt exist and you may find real love and an amazing guy here, gettin tons of emails on a dating site doesnt make you more attractive than before you started online dating and suddenly doesnt make you a 10, just to let you know…just means there are alot of horny dbags who havent been with many women and players who figure if they send 300 emails a day out tellin you how hot you are that might get them laid…remember that babe, and your loss on an awesome guy who would have rocked your world in every way ;)

Ps not a lot of gq models looking for average lookin slightly out of shape women, how many years have you been online dating now????!!! lmao well hope your gettin the attn you joined for…enjoy growing old on here, while waiting for george clooney, should be fun :)”

WHAT?

Aren't we all kinda waiting for George Clooney?

B: See. Now you feel kinda sorry for hot girls, don’t you? Her two crimes were existing and not responding, and her punishment was a long, very personal – albeit horribly written – attack email. That kinda sucks. Lucky for us, Olivia doesn’t fuck around.

OI was appalled. I wanted to ignore it, but it made me angry so I had to write something back.  There was a lot wrong with this guy as to why we aren’t matches. He’s 38 and I’m only 25 (creepy).  He smokes and I have listed I’m not interested in dating smokers. He didn’t even graduate college, despite the fact I list I’m looking for educated men, and how important it is to be educated. On top of that, he works in construction, and my profile and photos should clearly show our lifestyles don’t mesh. He basically ignored my entire profile, and then got mad at me for not responding. Here’s what I wrote back:

Hello xxx,

First of all, it’s not because you’re not “hot enough” that I didn’t respond to you. I don’t feel I need to apologize for not reciprocating any interest when I’ve clearly listed my desired age range as up to 35. Age is just a number, and I’m sure people only put approximate ranges that aren’t deal-breakers, but 38 is just too old for me and out of my comfort zone.

Secondly, it’s only been four days since you messaged me. I’ve only just recently opened it. I’m constantly at a three-day backlog of messages, and excuse me for not making you a top priority in my life. You’re not the first guy to send a second email… but usually they wait a week or two, and I often respond to second emails because opening one that says, “I emailed you before but thought I’d try again” catches my attention enough to respond.

Oh, and just so you know, I get my match e-mails on my Blackberry, which I can read before signing in online. You know what I like about that? That my phone doesn’t show the photos, and I can read the message without judging the sender based on their looks.

Even if you were 28, I can tell you right now your initial message was pretty much the same comments, same questions, and same tidbits about yourself as 80% of what turns up in my inbox, the exact same kinds of emails I generally don’t respond to, anyway.

The reason I’m on Match at all is to find dates. I don’t do bars, I don’t accept invitations from guys who ask me out after five minutes, and friends have already tried setting me up with every guy they know. I’ve been on here for a month, and despite the nearly 1,500 emails I’ve received, I’ve only gone on three dates… but not because I’m some superficial, picky “supermodel” who wants perfection… I do not have the time. If I go on a date with someone, I probably won’t be available for a second date for a month, a third date for a month after that. That doesn’t work for 99% of guys. So, please, accept my apologies for trying a different approach or trying to meet new people in a modern way. I guess I’m not allowed to be on an online dating site, since you seem to think beautiful people have no trouble finding quality dates, and are baffled that someone like me could be single, or that I just need an ego boost to my already bursting vanity. I’ll just ignore your double standards, sexism and stereotypes if that makes you feel better.

You should feel lucky… This is the longest e-mail I’ve written anyone on match so far. Congratulations.”

Before he read the email.

B: Well…great. Now I’m in love with Olivia. I can’t imagine the delight that must’ve filled this man’s heart when he went to his in-box and saw a message from her. “It worked!,” he thought. “I put her in her place and now she came crawling back to me. They always do. I rule!” And then he opened the email and started to read, and that’s when his day got really really shitty. And how about Olivia laying the smackdown on him?! I now see how she got 182 favorites.

O: Now, again today, I’ve received another angry response for not replying to an email, from some delusional guy who can’t take rejection.

This guy sent me a better-than-average email two weeks ago, and again a week later. He’s not hot, but cute, but I didn’t respond because he lives… 700 MILES AWAY. Did he really think I’m going to respond to someone who doesn’t even live in the same region of the country? 

He sent me a short message just saying “I get it, you are just not a very friendly person..”.  A little rude, but I can deal with it. But then an hour later (in response to a photo of the NY Skyline, which Olivia jokingly captioned as “You’d have to live in a basement not to recognize this…”)

And FYI, your comment about people who live in basements makes you sound very unintelligent and unattractive…I know a lot of basement dwellers with a much higher IQ than you who aren’t so damn judgmental.

I guess it’s not easy finding a woman with beauty, brains and class. You know the ones who are fun to be around for more than one reason.”

I’ve got a whole library of bad emails if you’d be interested in knowing just how bad some guys’ attempts at contact are, and how to NOT write an email.

B: And that…folks is what we’re saving for next time. I asked Olivia one follow-up question: “If you could tell guys one thing to do to grab your attention, what would it be?”, and got a massive response. Some of it stuff I’ve told you before, some of it brand new even to me.  Rather than do a 4,000 word post, I decided break it up into segments, so tune in next week for the next riveting installment. The working title: “Advice From a Hot Girl: How to Meet Your Online Dream Girl.” And believe me, after you read it, you’ll never write another lazy subject line again.

Posted in Internet Dating is Weird, Your Stories | 16 Comments

How is This My Match? Elvira Edition

I thought OK Cupid didn’t recommend people! Oh, how wrong I was. Their version of Match’s Daily 5 are called “Quiver Matches”, where I suppose you can find people who either make you quiver with anticipation or are such perfect pairings that they must have been hit with an arrow from Cupid’s quiver. Both explanations are vaguely gross, and neither come even close to living up to the women I’ve had suggested since returning to the site. I’ve only been dabbling in the OKCups waters for a month or so, and already I’ve been presented with enough ridiculous matches to keep us in How is This My Matches for years to come. (Please don’t let me be writing this for years to come.) But who do we start with? Who’s the most…quiver-worthy?

I think you’ll agree….really, How is This My Match?

31 year-old Woman
Los Angeles, California

All I can think is of a plucky young man from the Way family, after a few bad years of meeting the wrong people in bars and getting trapped in a few dead-end relationships deciding, “what the hell, I’m gonna give Internet dating a try.” He’s heard good things about OKCupid, so he decides to sign up and take a look around. “What’s the worst that can happen?”, he asks himself, as he confidently clicks on the first picture he sees…

then…

“Holy shit! That girl is sitting on my grandfather’s tombstone! And she’s dressed like a vampire!”

And then poor Timmy Way never Internet dates again. Or, in all likelihood, even turns on his computer. All because one young, voluptuous vampiress was trying to make a big impression in her dating profile.

I have no idea why Elvira was recommended to me. She’s the right age, and the right location — that’s an impressive start. And I like horror movies. Though I don’t mention that in my profile, and even if I did, I wouldn’t say that a fondness for scares means you’re turned on by chicks in coffins or knife-to-tongue phallic symbolism. But maybe I’m being too harsh. Maybe her profile is normal, and totally validates OKCupid’s romantic suggestion?

My Self Summary: Vampire mistresss.

Nope, that’s pretty weird. And spelling mistress wrong isn’t doing anyone any favors.

What Are You Doing with Your Life: I’m acting in movies.

Of course you are.

I’m Good At: kinky stuff.

You know, when I saw the picture of you straddling a grave with a bloody mouth, I had a feeling you were into kinky stuff. Then when I saw that other photo of you running a gigantic knife along your tongue, I wasn’t so sure. I mean, who isn’t turned on by tongue knives? So I’m glad you wrote you were into kink here, just to clear everything it up.  

The First Thing People Notice About Me: My eyes and hair and my weird clothes.

Yeah, it’s your eyes that they notice. Handy rule of thumb: if you’re wearing vampire teeth, that’s always gonna be the first thing anyone notices.

And by far my favorite response…

I Spend a Lot of Time Thinking About: Hot guys.

I don’t know, there’s just something so comforting about Elvira spending all her time thinking about hot guys. It’s just so…normal. I expected her to say “Rasputin,” or “Cyanide,” or “The Time I Accidentally Killed a Man,” but no, it turns out she just thinks about hot guys. Like any one of us might. That’s sweet. When I read that, I saw a glimmer of what OKCupid must have been thinking when they named her one of my Quiver Matches. (Still gross.) But then I realized, well, I’m not really a hot guy. Oh well. Too bad she doesn’t spend a lot of time thinking about average guys with hilarious blogs. Then we’d really have something.

As is, however, I’m still left wondering…How is This my Match?

Posted in How is This My Match? | 4 Comments

How To Break Up with an Internet Date

Breaking up with someone you meet conventionally is pretty easy. I mean, it’s not, it’s gut-wrenchingly awful, but at least you know how to do it. You meet them in person, apologize for having to do this, then brace yourself for the angry crying, or the disappointed crying, or perhaps a potpourri. How do you tell someone you met online that you don’t want to see them anymore is a touch more complicated. Here’s a question from Margaret, a loyal reader new to the world of Internet dating…

I’ve gone on a few dates with guys who are nice enough, easy to talk to, but I don’t want to rip their clothes off.  How and when do I call it quits?  Where is that nebulous line between “giving them a chance” and “leading them on?”  And what is the text that says “hey you’re nice and thanks for all the free booze but I’m just not attracted to you” without saying it in so many words?  When do you have to call instead of text?  Should you ever say “Let’s hang out as friends sometime” or are you both just kidding yourselves?  Help!

Hulk always gets his clothes ripped off.

OK, there’s a lot unpack here, but Margaret, you’ve come to the right place. If anyone has ended, or had ended, more short-term not-really-relationships than me, then I’d like to meet ‘em. Mostly so we can hold each other and cry, but still. The first part of your question is rather easy. I go into this is more detail here, but if you don’t want to rip someone’s clothes off after the second date, you might as well call it quits.. At that point, you know a fair amount about them, your chemistry has had a chance to develop, and you’ve probably been kinda drunk in each other’s presence a few times. If that’s not gonna get clothes ripped off, I don’t know what will. Other than Hulkamania, of course. At that point you’re in no danger of leading them on, though honestly, I don’t really know what leading somebody on is. It’s a phrase guys say when they’re pissed off they got dumped, but can’t just yell “I’m pissed off that you dumped me!”, so they made up the clever little code phrase “you led me on!” Everyone is allowed to decide they don’t want to date someone at any point, regardless of how many times you’ve gone out with them. Each relationship has its own pace. If a woman is going out with a man without actually liking him, or because she simply enjoys free nights on the town, that’s not “leading someone on” it’s just “being a total bitch.”

Now, the second part of Margaret’s question is more complicated. Let’s say you want to buy a one-way ticket to Splittsville for your Internet dating companion – how do you pull it off? There’s no one solution for this problem, in fact, I believe there’s three. It all depends on what stage your relationship is at.

After One Date: You go out once and you just weren’t feeling it. Whether it was with a lovely person who’s plenty of fun or a hideous monster who made you cry, your obligation remains the same. You have to do… absolutely nothing. They call you and ask you out, no need to respond. They send a sweet, inviting text, drop it in the trash. You met them online, you’ve known them for an hour, you owe them nothing. If you’re not interested, you are fully within your rights to say nothing and move on with your life. I will add, however, that I don’t do this. I think if someone asks you out, it’s nice of them to be interested and you should respond in kind. You can send a text, phone calls aren’t necessary, and this is what it should say. Feel free to copy and paste…

Hey, I had a good time meeting you, but I’m afraid I wasn’t feeling a romantic connection. You seemed very cool though, and I’m sure you’ll find something great soon enough. Best of luck!

It’s friendly, it’s complimentary, and it’s totally direct. Never fails. As I said, this sort of politeness isn’t required, and I genuinely don’t hold it against a woman if she never responds, but you can never go wrong treating others the way you’d like to be treated.

How Mother Teresa would break up someone, but with more lies.

After More Than One Date But Pre-Nudity: This is the heart of Margaret’s question, and I believe, the trickiest area to handle. If you’ve made it past the first date, chances are one of you is at least a bit interested, and as you’re the one breaking things off, chances are it isn’t you. Things haven’t gotten serious yet, but you’ve got to let somebody down, which, if you have any soul whatsoever, sucks. What do you say? Does this sound familiar?

Hey, I had a good time meeting hanging out with you, but I’m afraid I wasn’t feeling a romantic connection. You seemed are very cool though, and I’m sure you’ll find some great soon enough. Best of luck!

The difference is, this time you say it into their voicemail. Voicemail is dignity’s medium. It allows you to speak calmly and carefully, and allows them to tell you to go fuck yourself without you hearing it. How are you certain to get their voicemail? Use Slydial. If you don’t know what Slydial is, well I have no idea why you have a telephone. Oh, and you can’t say “Best of luck” in this version of the message because it makes you sound like a dick. Learned that one the hard way.

Now, you may be at a point in your not-really-relationship where this message makes no sense. If you’ve gone out a handful of times or done a good amount of kissy kissy, then the whole “romantic connection” jag ain’t gonna cut it. That’s when you replace the part of the message with “I’ve met someone else and I want to see where it leads” or “I got out of something recently, and this is moving a bit too fast for me.” It’s your call. If these things are lies, and that makes you feel bad, remember that this isn’t about you. This whole post isn’t for you – I don’t give a shit about you – it’s for the person you’re splitting up with. You’re fine, you’re probably already making googly eyes at some chick in the subway. It’s the other person I’m worried about. Saying goodbye to them in as plausible, succinct, and friendly a way as possible is the goal here, and believe me, when I’m split up with, I much prefer hearing “there’s somebody else” to “there’s only you, and you blow.”

OK, alright, I kinda give a shit about you too. But don’t test me!

They come with a price, gentlemen.

After Nudity: Sorry dudes, but if you’ve seen their boobs, then you can’t be a boob. Tough break. And ladies, if he’s taken off his pants, then you can’t be a…scant? Nothing useful really rhymes with pant. Jerk, you can’t be a jerk. If your Internet relationship has progressed to the point where clothes have come off, then you’ve got to call them, speak to them live, and come up with your own script. Sorry, I can’t do everything for you.

There’s only one thing you shouldn’t do: don’t meet them in person. Every time someone breaks up with me in person, I think the same thing: I drove through rush hour traffic for this shit? If I’m gonna be dumped, don’t make me travel to do it. Let me handle this trying moment with the dignity it deserves: in my underwear, on the phone, sitting on my couch. At least give me that.

Oh, and last thing, Margaret. Don’t ever say “you hope you can be friends.” You’ve got friends, he’s got friends, you didn’t come online to make friends. If he wants to be friends, he’ll let you know, and if you break up with him the right away, maybe he just will.

Posted in Advice, Internet Dating is Weird | 10 Comments

How Many Emails Before We Date?

Writing emails is hard.

I’ve been getting this message a lot lately, in response to a first email. I think it’s becoming a trend.

“Thanks for your note! You seem really cool. Wanna grab a drink? I’m more for meeting in person than trading lots of emails back and forth. When are you free?”

And you know what I do then? I hit delete.

Perhaps it’s thought of as progressive, as the sign of a modern dater, one who wants to eschew email chatter and head right for the first date. “Screw this small talk bullshit, let’s get right to face to face!” It’s the sort of line you’d give a brassy Kathy Bates in a movie about Internet dating, if anyone would ever cast Kathy Bates in a movie about Internet dating. It’s what people say when they’re trying to sound “no nonsense.” Unfortunately, to me all it sounds like is a waste of time.

There’s a lot to be learned on email. Can my future date write a complete sentence? Does she have anything interesting/funny/smart to say? Does she use the word “yowzers,” thereby nullifying her interesting/funny/smart-ness? And, perhaps most importantly, is she into the exchange, or do they just seem to be going through the motions? Yes, you could find all this out on a first date, but I for one would rather discover that I’m talking to a zero when I’m alone on my couch, rather than out a bar, staring said zero right in the face.

Me, basically.

Also, isn’t wanting to meet someone without communicating at all first just a little bit sketchy? Shouldn’t you be worried that I’m a zero also? Because at best, I’m like a 1, 1.5 on a good day. The whole thing just seems suspicious. And why aren’t these women more afraid for their safety? Is it that I don’t seem threatening? Because I have recently begun Kenpo Karate gym classes, and my instructor only rarely laughs at me anymore. I don’t know, I feel like meeting without emailing is a lot less like Internet dating and a lot more like kidnapping. “Hey you – random person – get in my car! We’re getting cocktails and being flirty for the next hour. Oh, and you’re paying!”

So what then should be our emailing game plan? Write and write and write, until you’re absolutely certain this person is the one for you? Nope, that’s also wrong. You know how you can miss your window with someone by going on too many dates without sealing the deal? Then, before you know it, you’re in The Friendship Zone? Well, the same thing happens with email, only it’s called The Annoying and Entirely Pointless Zone. There are people, usually men from what I’ve heard, who carry on email conversations seemingly without end. They’ll write back and forth  for weeks, sometimes months, without ever asking you out. It’s not even like they’re thinking about it, they just blabber on about their job or favorite movies, like your grandmother or something. It’s demented, and I won’t stand for it. The maximum emails one person can send in an online dating exchange is five. FIVE, folks. Any more than that and you might as well sign up for summer camp, because you’ve got a pen pal, my friend. And honestly, five is pushing it.

The ideal email exchange before asking for a date is three messages. You write her three times, she writes you back three times. On the fourth email, you ask her out for a drink. That is the exact amount of communication required to know your partner is delightful, not a psycho, and there’s a bit of juice between you. If the man or lady trails off before three emails, then they weren’t really interested. If they take longer than three emails to ask for a date then, well, they weren’t really interested. Remember, the goal here is not have to an amazing online correspondence, it’s to have an amazing first date. So leaving the other person wanting more, a little curious about you and your story is what it’s all about. Whet their appetite, reel them in, then ask to meet in person. Because, remember if they get bored, there’s plenty of suitors in their email box, waiting to take your place.

And some of them might know Kenpo too.

Posted in Advice, Internet Dating is Weird | 13 Comments

The Girl Who Met Someone Else

The way to stay out of trouble with serial killers is to avoid being brought to a second location. It’s Serial Killer 101. Let ‘em abduct you, fine, but the real problems start when they toss you in their van. That’s how you end up in somebody’s basement at the bottom of  a hole getting told to rub lotion all over the place – going to that second location. First dates, however, are quite the opposite. On a first date, the one thing you’re hoping will happen – the sure sign that success is underway – is that the two of you move to a second locale. Makeouts can be misleading, arguments can be inconclusive, awkwardness can go one way or the other – but you know for certain where you stand when one of you says “Hey, you wanna get out of here?” That’s when you got a good date on your hands. Unless…you’re out on a date with a serial killer. Then I don’t know what to tell ya…

I met Katie, and right away, the commonality was almost alarming. She reviewed movies for a living, I watched movies like it was my job. She used to be on the Food Network, I also watched the Food Network like it was my job. (Please no one tell my actual job.) She had great cleavage, I was great at looking at cleavage — it was a match made in heaven. But most of all, she made me laugh. Not easy to do, for sure, but within minutes of meeting Katie, she had me in stitches. Some of it was her eccentric nature, she was hopping in and out of her seat every few minutes, ordering coffee, changing her order, considering some pie, asking about pie options, deciding she didn’t want pie at all. It was a little like dating a coke addict (in the most endearing possible way), but the last thing she needed was more coffee. I get a kick out of quirk though, and Katie had plenty to go around. And she seemed equally enthused about me. She laughed at all my jokes, even the bad ones, and told me it was the best date she had been on in a long time. After a good ninety minutes of laughs, she told me, unfortunately, she had to go, and that’s when she dropped the line…

"You guys at your second location?"

“Wanna go see Mission Impossible 4?”

Not in a week, not in a day, but right friggin’ now. Katie was, as I said, a movie reviewer, and that night she had a movie to review. It was Mission Impossible 4, and as I’ve always had an interest in free climbing Middle Eastern skyscrapers, I was intrigued. But more than wanting to see the movie, I was pleased that we had entered the hallowed second location realm. It’s a notable step, mostly because it’s such an unnecessary one. Even if you’re having a great evening, it’s easy enough to see a person another time. In fact, it’s probably advisable. No need to go overboard on a first meeting with someone who’s pretty darn close to being a stranger. But moving to another place, either a new bar or out for a walk or – for the floozies in the house – someone’s apartment, suggests real excitement. Fondness even. A feeling of “I’m not ready for this to end just yet.” It’s a great feeling, and one that’s very rarely acted on, in my experience. Which is why I loved it when Katie offered, and it really hurt when I had to say “no.”

Sadly, I had a deadline the next morning, and deadlines don’t care about cleavage. So we parted ways, with plans to hang out soon. Just to make sure she didn’t think I was blowing her off, I texted Katie  after the movie, telling her I was very happy to meet her and wished I could’ve taken her up on her offer of short people and Scientology. All was well, and a good thing had clearly begun.

After a few jokey texts back and forth, I asked her a few days later when we could hang out again. It took her 24 hours to respond. That was the first sign. When someone waits 24 hours to respond to a date request, they might as well wait 24,000, because you probably already have your answer. The text that I received in response, however, was even more conclusive.

“Hey, I’m really sorry, but I’ve met someone else and things have gotten quite serious. You’re a really nice guy though, best of luck to you!”

Her date

WHAT? You’ve met somebody else and things have gotten quite serious…in seven days?! Does he have a time machine that let you go back in time like a month, allowing you a plausible opportunity to actually get serious? Or wait, is he on death row and you’re trying to speed things up just in case he doesn’t get clemency? Maybe she was doing a new kind of speed dating that doesn’t just apply to the first meeting but the entire relationship, so after 15 minutes they were already meeting each other’s parents? Look, I don’t mind getting blown off, I really don’t. Believe me, I’ve got plenty of practice. But isn’t it better for all involved if we just do it honestly? Just, you know, for dignity’s sake?And how exactly did we go from unnecessary movie invite to you pulling the “mysterious other man” routine a few days later?

Guys know what “I met someone else” means, it means “I want to meet someone else, other than you.” So why beat around the bush? Or, let’s assume Katie wasn’t lying. Let’s assume that she had been seeing someone previous to going out with me, and that things were going pretty well. That makes sense, I can buy that. Then, after meeting me, she decided she felt more strongly about the other dude. Wouldn’t blame her one bit. I probably feel more strongly about the other dude too. Then why invite me to the movie? Why introduce a further destination if there’s another guy you’re into? It’s just…well…it’s just a little silly. I don’t mind if you don’t like me, but can we keep the not liking me to just one location? It makes it a lot easier to understand.

Now I gotta rethink my whole stance on serial killers.

Posted in Horror Stories | 8 Comments

IT’S NOT A MATCH CLASSIC: The Girl Who Cried During Sex

Over the last few months, readership on It’s Not a Match has increased, like, a lot. Which is amazing, truly. I am shocked and thankful to have so many of you visit and write me each and every day. You guys are the best. I wanted to make sure, however, that my new readers got a chance to see some of my older work, which is, let’s just say it, Pulitzer Prize worthy stuff. So, from time to time, I will repost some of my favorite It’s Not a Match columns for new folks to discover and old timers to cherish as the rich cultural heirlooms they are. Today is one of my favorites.

The Girl Who Cried During Sex.

Perhaps from reading this site you’ve gotten the impression that Internet dating is just one disastrously awkward first date after another. Not true! Sometimes there’s a disastrously awkward second, third, and fourth date as well. And, if you’re really lucky, on rare occasion you may achieve a full-fledged disastrously awkward long-term relationship! But that’s only if you reallllllly apply yourself. Thankfully, on one or two occasions, I have been so determined…

I met the Sex Crier on a rare two-date evening. It’s something I try to avoid, but if scheduling becomes difficult or I’m particularly eager to meet someone and feel like I can’t wait another day (I know, I’m unimaginably romantic), I will plan two dates on the same night. It’s not a great idea, but if you stick to the Two Drink Rule it can be done. Just avoid telling the same stories or jokes to both of your dates, because no matter how big a cad you are, somewhere deep inside your soul will break. But Sex Crier was the second date on a two-date evening, and within minutes she blew the first woman entirely out of memory.

I still remember what she was wearing and even what she smelled like, in as unserial-killer a way as possible. I had to talk her into the date, as she was reluctant to date a smoker and an actor, and I was guilty of both. She was an actress too, you see, and she felt the two didn’t mix. Boy was she wrong. Us being actors had nothing to do with us not getting along. It was the more the constant 100% insanity that did it.

Warning sign?

On our first date she made me laugh immediately, which usually means I’m hooked. And she was outstanding to look at, which never hurts, but there was something a little…off about SC. Her stories were a little crazier than they should’ve been, her frankness was a little frankier than it should’ve been, and she just had a strange little energy going on. You know when you meet someone and just sense right away that they’re not like other people, but can’t figure out whether that’s a good or bad thing? That was her. She was what 75 year-old people call a firecracker, and warned me in no uncertain terms that I should stay as far away from her as possible. “I’m crazy,” she said, after I walked her home from our first date. And apparently when I told her she didn’t seem that crazy to me, I meant it as a compliment, but she took it as a personal challenge.

We dated for a few months, and I think broke up eight times. Which is a lot considering I don’t believe we ever explicitly said we were together or agreed to stop seeing other people. She just liked breaking up, and was constantly honing her craft. She worked tirelessly at it, forever trying new techniques and approaches. She was the Tiger Woods of ending things, the Bill Gates of deciding we’d be better off as friends. Wanna break up in a crowded restaurant at the top of your lungs with tears and profanity so everyone stares at you? She’s got a move for that. Split up via text message for a reason she will not explain and very possibly doesn’t even know? Please, Sex Crier can do that in her sleep. Or, and this was my personal favorite, break up after a homeless man has asked you for spare change and you’ve said “Sorry, man” in an insufficiently caring fashion? Sex Crier owns the copyright on that shit. That’s her Sistine Chapel, and let me tell you, seeing it in person…it’ll take your breath away.

Anyway, she liked drama. And because that made our relationship fairly volatile, I thought it best to hold off on having sex for a while. I still tend to attach, you know, personal feelings to the making of whoopee, so – as she was breaking up with me on a weekly basis – I felt the need to self-protect. Why did I keep dating her at all? No idea. She was smart, funny, and pretty – what am I supposed to do against that? I was powerless against her, and ultimately, finally, agreed to cash in her one-way ticket to sexy town. And yes, that’s what I called it. You can see why she found me difficult to resist…

So we’re in bed and we’re doing the stuff and after a bit we start triumphantly, heroically, having sex. Then, almost instantly, and without any notice, she starts crying. Deep, baleful sobs, like her dog just died. She wasn’t in pain, and it wasn’t because the sex was just so gosh-darned good either, believe you me. Even the women in my fantasies are only barely tolerant of my love-making technique – so it wasn’t that she had just realized how good sex could actually be. She was just upset. About something she categorically refused to discuss. The next ten minutes or so played out like this…

Me: Is something wrong?

SC: Yyyyyesss.

Me: Can we talk about it?

SC: No.

Me: Please, I’d really like to talk about-

SC: Just keep going!

….Aaaaand repeat. I’m telling you, you haven’t felt true sexual satisfaction until you’ve done it under duress while being drenched in a shower of your partner’s tears. For the older gentlemen out there, if you ever run out of Viagra, just encourage your lady to start desperately weeping while forcing her body upon you. It’s a one-way ticket to erectiontown (it works for everything!!).

“This time I want to do it while I sing ‘Somewhere Over The Rainbow’. Do it! Now!”

Every few minutes, Sex Crier would be overcome and need to take some time to focus on the crying. I would try to be supportive and ask her if she wanted to talk about it, while quietly celebrating what was clearly the end of the awful intercourse. She would ignore my question, cry a bit more, and then initiate more tragicsex. It was like getting raped by Judy Garland.

Finally, mercifully, after maybe twenty minutes, my body decided that I was done having sex for the evening. In my head I was high-fiving my genitals, but Sex Crier was upset. Which makes sense because clearly she was having such a good time. She flopped down on the bed next to me and sighed with disappointment. “That’s it?” she said. “Yup” I replied. “But I haven’t finished,” she declared. I decided to go with silence as my response to that one. “So you’re just…done?” she asked angrily. “In more ways than you know,” I thought to myself and wished I had the balls to say out loud. Instead I went with “I’m sorry, but if we can’t talk about what’s wrong then I think I should just go to sleep.” That was the last straw. Apparently after inexplicably crying on a guy for a half hour, she was used to being dutifully brought to climax. Great deal if you can get it, but that wasn’t going to be happening with me. She rolled over, looked me straight in the eyes and said “I can’t believe you!”. She then got out of bed and disappeared for an extended period of time.

When I like a woman, I give her a lot of leeway. Too much sometimes. I don’t know why. It’s just that being with a great girl makes me really happy, and if she’s got some quirks and rough spots, well I’m open to working that out. We’re all imperfect, and hell, I’ve got more rough spots than sandpaper – I mean, I said “erectiontown” back there – so I try to be flexible. But tonight would be the end of my flexibility with the Sex Crier. I walked into her living room and found her angrily reading a book, which I didn’t really know was possible. She looked up, said “I don’t want to talk to you, I’m too upset” and returned to her novel. That was when I decided to show her a break-up move that even she had never attempted.

The “have sex while being cried on for a while, get yelled at for not delivering orgasms under those conditions, sleep over at the girl’s house because I’ve got a meeting nearby in the morning and what’s the point of shlepping all the way home to just shlep back, and then break up with her immediately afterward on the phone because I’m afraid there’s a chance she might kill me” break up was patented that fine day, friends, and it was a beauty. There was crying, of course, and a lot of yelling, and a lot of telling me that I was a son of a bitch. It lacked evidence as an assertion, but I was in no mood to quibble. I had been with The Sex Crier and was happy knowing that our ninth breakup would be the one that stuck.

Ooooh stories. Aren’t they great? But here’s the thing, I actually left out the best part. The Crier, when we finally split, warned me, “The last time someone broke up with me, I tried to kill myself.” No doubt she thought I would reconsider. She was wrong. 

Posted in It's Not a Match Classic | 5 Comments

How is This My Match: OKCupid Edition

This may come as a shock to regular readers, but I have begun to dip my toes in the OKCupid waters. I know, I know. I’ve long argued that you get what you pay for on free dating sites, which in OKCupid’s case is jack shit. But for a variety of reasons, I think it may be a more productive way to meet people in Los Angeles. I’ll go into that in more detail in a future post, but my main concern presently is trying to survive without Match’s priceless Daily 5 recommendations. Over recent months, Match has brought so many fine women to my attention, such as Bald Black Lady, The Lesbian, 19 year-old Hottie, and of course, Mrs. Santa Claus. If I stopped using Match as frequently, what would I do without their exquisitely awful suggestions? OKCupid doesn’t have Daily 5′s, so how could they provide such a regular parade of insanity?

Well, worry not, faithful reader. While OKCup’s doesn’t recommend people per say, it will alert you when someone they find particularly keen looks at your profile. They’ll send you an email telling you that an “Exceptionally Good Match” has her eye on you, and yes, it works about as well as you’d expect.

But you can be the judge of that.

And so I ask you….How is This My Match (OKCupid Style)?!

27, Straight Female

Los Angeles, CA

Yep. That’s it. A picture of someone who seems to be actively running from the camera. Perhaps she’s a fugitive from the law? Maybe she forgot to make up her face before heading out in the morning? Or maybe she doesn’t have a face at all? She could be one of those Oprah guests who her got her face eaten off by her friend’s chimpanzee. There’s really no way of knowing because all I can see is the BACK OF HER HEAD. Not even the back, really. It’s sort of the side of the back, and it’s totally covered in hair. Hair, and some branches, and part of a tree trunk that she’s climbing up for some unknown reason.

I feel like the dating sites are screwing with me at this point. Like someone at Match noticed that I hadn’t logged in in a while, knew of course that I hadn’t met anyone, so  assumed I’d wandered off onto another site. They placed a few calls, found out I was on OKCupid, then asked for a favor. “Hey, you have any pictures of something crazy, like a chick kissing an elephant, or a woman who looks like Harry Truman, or…wait. WAIT. Get a photo of some weird girl climbing up a tree. Or a guy, it doesn’t really matter. Just make sure he’s got long hair, and you can’t see his face it all, and then send it to this asshole and tell him it’s his perfect match. He’ll get a big kick out of it, believe me!” OK, that probably didn’t happen, but I can’t be sure at this point. And neither can you.

I mean, she couldn’t have at least cleared the bush before taking the picture? I’m looking at like half a torso here. No legs even! It’s just degrading. She’s more plant than human as far as I can tell.

Not surprisingly, ol’ Flora and Fauna here kept her profile pretty brief. Most of her responses are gibberish, or in no way answer the question asked. Which means that in OKCupid’s eyes, my perfect match is an illiterate who has no face or legs. I’d like to argue with them, but it’s not like I’ve hit off so great with all the women I’ve met who have faces, so perhaps they’re on to something. There was one question she responded to that I think summed up my first OKCupid recommendation rather nicely.

On a typical Friday night I am…cyclops reading.

That’s funny, I believe I spent my Valentine’s Day cyclops reading as well.

Seriously people, How is This My Match?!

Posted in How is This My Match? | 9 Comments