Men: Stop Paying For First Dates

Posted on January 5, 2012 by B

Laugh it up buddy, because she ain’t paying for shit.

I know, ladies, that you are united on this issue. Men should pay for every first date. You recognize that it’s archaic, maybe even a tad demeaning, but it is convention, and convention must be respected. A man will ask you out on a date – be it Internet or otherwise – and at the end of the evening, regardless of the date’s quality, length, or overall expense, two things must happen. First the check will arrive and the lady must offer to pay. Then, the man is to smile, nod “no”, then place his credit card on the table. That’s the way it works, and there is little room for variation. But understand, women, that there’s a quiet movement afoot. A potential revolution that is simmering just under the surface, and I’ve got the emails to prove it. Jon from Nevada. Billy from Miami. Doug in Wisconsin. They’re all wondering, with more than a bit of fear in their voices, if men really have to pay for every date. And I am here to say…NO. No they do not.

Let me say this plainly: Men should pay for the first date. It’s the right thing to do. But  there are a lot of things that are the “right” thing to do, and we don’t do ’em. Like sending thank you notes. Or not wearing hats indoors. Or washing your socks on an annual or semi-annual basis. We’ve moved beyond these arcane traditions, so why have we held onto the one where dudes have to pay for everything that a woman consumes? It’s senseless, and it’s gotta stop. Never again, I say!

He pays for everybody’s drinks

OK, not never again. Again. Definitely again. I got carried away with the moment. But there are times, and I know this is controversial shit, when a man can get away with not picking up a woman’s tab. Here is a complete list:

  1. If the date sucked.

That’s it. It’s just that simple. If your evening turns in a total dud, and you have no intention of seeing the woman again under any circumstances, and she offers to pay her share, then, yes, men, you may accept. And I do mean under NO CIRCUMSTANCES would you see her again. Like, let’s say you meet her and she only has one arm, but then you think, “hey, it might grow back.” You pay for that girl’s drink. Or if she shows up in a Ku Klux Klan outfit and you think, “I don’t agree with their principles, but I’ve always found white to be a flattering color.” Buy that lady a cocktail. But if you’re absolutely certain that you two are donesville, then let the woman buy her own booze. Paying for it is just, well, a waste of money.

Look, cheaping out isn’t meant as a punishment. I don’t think men should try to penalize a woman for failing to fulfill all his dreams in a forty-five minute span. But what exactly does one get out of buying drinks for someone who was a stranger an hour ago and will revert back to being a stranger five minutes from now? I’ll tell you. Zip-o. Sure, you fulfill some sort of nebulous duty that goes with being a man who has asked out a woman, but honestly, who really gives a shit? Is a game show host going to walk up to you after the date and say “your gallantry has exceeded expected levels of humanity, and for that you win… A NEW CAR!” Nope. Not gonna happen. What you’ll get is the satisfaction of knowing that you essentially gave someone thirty dollars because society suggests that that’s the right thing to do. Frankly, I’d rather just have the thirty dollars.

The actual prize for picking up the tab

I know that this may sound stingy. No, scratch that. It definitely sounds stingy. But it’s also realistic. Internet dating isn’t free and it isn’t fast. It takes a lot of nights out before you find the lady or gentleman for you, and asking one side to pay every one of those nights is unrealistic. So, Jon from Nevada, Billy from Miami, Doug in Wisconsin…you now have my permission to, on rare circumstance, not pick up a first date tab. But don’t abuse the privilege, fellahs. Because believe me, the first time you make a bad bill decision will also be the last. And honestly, the least you can do for an outstanding woman is pay for her drinks, right? RIGHT.

Posted in Advice, Internet Dating is Weird | 64 Comments

Your Awful Story Olympics X

Posted on December 16, 2011 by B

People React to Last Month's Column

I really can’t say enough about last month’s Awful Story Olympics. The email it documents is so insane that I thought about retiring the segment altogether. I mean, how can I give away gold medals (OK, pictures of gold medals) to others, knowing full well that they can’t compare to the crazy that Kelly A. had to endure? But then I realized, I have a duty. A duty to the hundreds of thousands of readers who come here everyday, expecting to read the worst the Internet dating world has to offer. Did I say “hundreds of thousands”? Sorry, I meant “millions of billions”. But I had to find a twist. How could this month’s Awful Story Olympics be anything but a letdown? I mean, it’s not every month that a reader is emailed by someone who has already started job searching for her, without actually, you know, meeting her first. (Wait, you didn’t read last month’s column?! What’s wrong with you? Do it, already.) But luckily, the hook was found.

Please enjoy the most awful stories I heard from you guys this month…

The Bronze

I am new to on-line dating. Recently I met a girl on Match who seemed like a normal girl of average attractiveness. Things went well on the phone, so I asked her out for a date. My first mistake was having her meet me at my place. She brought over two bottles of gas station wine and started talking about how much her dog would “love my place”.  Anyway, we went out for dinner at a place near the mall. She wanted to “walk around the mall a bit” with me first…and I didn’t see the problem with that. During the walk, she kept calling me ‘baby’, groping all over me, and kept pointing out what she would buy me for Christmas. Eventually, we made it to the restaurant. During the course of the meal she asked me “So are you going to be searching for any more crazy girls on Match?” I said, “Well, yeah, I’m going to get what I paid for…” She then told me that her search was over because she found what she wanted. I ate my awkward dinner and then drove with her back home. She went to her car and brought out an overnight bag and some PJs. I politely told her that “I had to get up early in the morning.” Defeated, she left, but not before promising to come back and help me buy groceries. Plus she planned on spending my days off with me.

The Wine She Purchased.

After she left, I received no less than 20 text messages. So I did what any guy would do: I told her VIA match e-mail that it wont work out because “we both want different things”. She then proceeded to write three long back-to-back  emails in response and pretty much called me the scum of the earth and emotionally immature. She told me that she was crying and that she was hurt. She also added, “Enjoy the wine I purchased.”  The whole experience made me want to delete my account and never look back. –Marc, Raleigh, NC

Good rule of thumb Marc, any date that involves the phrase “gas-station wine” is probably not going to be a good date. Might’ve been smart to send her packing right there. But then we all would’ve been spared of the knowledge that somewhere out there is a woman who brings pajamas on a first date. So for that, I thank you.

You’re looking for that hook, aren’t you? Patience…

The Silver

From Muffy in Winnipeg…

Here’s an email a young man on Plenty Of Fish sent to me…

“I came across your profile and was quite enamored by such an articulate and heavenly blessed beauty. I would be kicking myself if I didn’t ask, so I was wondering if you would accept an engagement of witty banter between two intellectuals? Of course this “engagement” may start off as purely platonic but my sensual desires will most likely guide our cohesive unity down more erotic, lascivious, and sexual paths that will include but are not limited to passionate make out sessions under the star lit sky, dry humping, fondling each others naughty parts inducing orgasms, and an abundance of new uncharted sexual positions where I assert my pure dominance in establishing a realm of absolute sovereignty in your nether regions.

Is this something you would be interested in pursuing?”

Humping

Wow, is that disgusting. I mean, come on, you’re really gonna go with “dry humping” and “nether regions” in a message to someone you’ve never met? I wouldn’t say dry humping to my girlfriend of three years, even if she wasn’t a fictional construct I just created for the purposes of this sentence. Just the word “humping” alone is enough to put me off sex altogether.

And are you ready for the twist? The next email, the gold-medal-winning email, is from the same guy. Yep! Apparently he had the misfortunate to send it to one of Muffy from Winnipegs good friends. Woops. Enjoy…

The Gold

“So I messaged you just to chat but I’m kind of concerned. I mean, we could hit it off really well, end up having a few drinks, next thing you know you’re giving me your number because I’m too shy to ask for it, I finally get up the nerve to call and we take in a movie, have some dinner, I relax, you relax, we go out a few more times, get to know each other’s friends, spend a lot of time together, then finally get past this sexual tension and really develop this intense sex life that is truly incredible, decide our relationship is solid and stable, so we move in together for a while, then a few months later get married, I get a promotion, you get a promotion, we buy a bigger house. You really want kids, but I really want freedom, but we have a kid anyway, only to find that I am resentful, the sparks start to fade and to rekindle them we have two more lovely kids, but now I work too much to keep up with the bills, have no time for you, you’re stressed and stop taking really good care of yourself, so to get past our slow sex life and my declining self-confidence I turn to an outside affair for sexual gratification. You find out because I’m careless and a lousy liar, you throw me out (justifiably so) and we have to explain to the kids why mommy and daddy are splitting up. That’s just too sad. Think about the children. For God’s sake, if you chat with me and we hit it off, let’s just keep it sexual, because we both know where it’s going.” – Forwarded by Muffy

The only thing worse than mentioning sex in a first email to a woman is mentioning the affair you’re ultimately going to have once you grow tired of fucking her. Actually, check that. There is one thing worse than that: doing them both. I give our mystery emailer a bit of credit for trying to be creative with Muffy and Friends, but Holy Christ does he get poor marks for execution. Normally I say there’s nothing worse than being boring, but in this case, there are a bunch of things worse than boring and he hit all of them. Too bad, boring would’ve kept him off of this site.

And away, of course, from the eyes of my millions of billions of readers.

Have a story that you think is award worthy? Send them to It’s Not a Match here! 

Posted in Your Awful Stories | 6 Comments

Should We Talk on the Phone Before Our First Date?

Posted on December 6, 2011 by B

Not everyone is cut out for the phone...

“Hey, B. I just met an awesome boy online, or I think he’s an awesome boy, but it’s so hard to tell! Can I ask to talk to him on the phone first, just to make sure he isn’t an ax murderer?”

-Vanessa, NYC

Don’t worry, Vanessa, I get this one all the time. And my answer is simple: yes, you should definitely talk to someone on the phone before going out on a date as long as you want that date to totally suck. Sound good?

This is what I mean —  here’s a list of topics you can expect to discuss on a phone call with someone you’ve never met: their day, their job, their friends, their hometown, their neighborhood, their likes/dislikes, their horrifying tales of Internet dating past.

Now here’s a list of topics you can expect to discuss on a first date with someone you’ve never met: their day, their job, their friends, their hometown, their neighborhood, their likes/dislikes, their horrifying tales of Internet dating past, and their concern that I am presently falling asleep.

That’s right kids, it’s the same list. There’s nothing inherently wrong with wanting to chat  before meet someone in person, but in my experience, that chat will leave you with very little to say once you actually get together. Obviously any good date will quickly leap beyond this kind of small talk, but when you’re trying to warm up to someone, “tell me what you do for a living” can be a pretty valuable ice breaker. I have had the experience more than once where a woman has asked to talk on the phone, we do, and then we end up having almost the identical conversation again in person. It wasn’t the end of the world, but you could tell we both found ourselves a little silly. Chit chat is stupid, but if you use it all up on the phone, you’re gonna regret it in person.

Surprisingly cogent on the phone

And what specifically do you expect to learn on this decisive getting-to-know-you phone call? As Vanessa mentioned, there’s the safety issue – wanting to make sure her date isn’t an ax murderer. OK, but…what do ax murderers sound like exactly? Like, do they say “ax” every fifth word (“Beautiful weather we’re ax having today….wait, no!”) or maybe discreetly scope out your murder potential (“What would you say is the best place in your house to store human remains? Also, do your neighbors tend to respond to screaming?”)? I mean, a person’s gotta be SUPER crazy for you to be able to tell in twenty minutes of banter. Believe me, I’ve got out with super crazy, and I’m sorry to say they did not rev chainsaws or sharpen knives in the background of our telephone calls. If you’re concerned about safety, make friends at your local bar and bring all your first dates there. They’ll protect you a lot better than a phone call.

At least she was hot.

Now, the other issue, and one I’m not entirely pessimistic about, is the ability to gauge chemistry. It is true that on occasion you can tell whether or not you’ll hit it off with someone in a very brief chat. One time I tried to coordinate a phone call with a woman and it took eight or nine tries before I could even get her on the phone – and this call was her idea. Not a great sign. Another time, a lady wanted to talk strictly about yoga. I asked about her job, we ended up at yoga. I wondered what kind of movies she liked, she worked us back around to yoga. Her hometown: Yoga, Pennsylvania. Her favorite food: deep-fried yoga, with a side of macaroni and yoga-cheese. I like yoga, I do yoga, but I would like, on occasion, to discuss things other than the Reverse Warrior. In these few instances, I was happy for the phone call. But the other times – of which there were many – the call confirmed what I already believed: we might get along, let’s see how we do in person.

There really is no substitute for meeting someone face to face. Talking beforehand might be comforting, it might make you feel like you’re making a safer decision, but really it’s just a waste of time. Having phone chemistry and having life chemistry are two totally different matters. So Vanessa, skip the call and go right to the date. That’s where you’ll get the info you truly ax need to truly ax know.

Thanks for the question. Ax ax.

Have a question you’d like to ask It’s Not a Match? Send me an email!!

Posted in Advice | 15 Comments

The Girl Who Made Me Dance

Posted on December 1, 2011 by B

I’d kill to be this good

I’ve always thought that the key to dancing was not necessarily to know what you’re doing, but to look like you believe you do. Or, better yet, to look like you simply don’t give a shit. There are a few people out there who actually know how to dance. They have a sense of rhythm, are basically graceful, and have spent enough time dancing that they can acquit themselves without looking like they’re having a seizure. Then there’s the rest of us. We look like we’re having seizures. And we’re in the majority – by, like, a lot. In America, there’s 300 million seizure dancers, and then maybe…23 people who know what they’re doing. (Right now, to yourself, you’re thinking that you’re one of the 23. But you’re not. Trust me. Your friends know you’re not, they just don’t want to tell you.) But as I said, all you need to do to seem like you’re one of the choice few is to appear like you don’t give a shit. Of course you give a shit, because we all give a shit – but to look like you really don’t care whether or not you’re dancing well – that’s as good as dancing well itself. I’m not talking about being in a music video or dancing with the Rockettes or something, I’m just talking about going to party and moving around in a convincing and impressive fashion. It’s a matter of confidence and careless joy, that’s all. But even knowing that, even though I possess the secrets of dance and the code to passing as a rhythmic, happening human being, I am still, when on a dance floor, the biggest doofus on the face of the earth. And the woman who forced me to prove that to her, well, she has never forgotten that day, I assure you.

Did someone say cliffhanger?!

To read what happened next, buy my new book Not a Match: My True Tales of Online Dating Disasters. 

Available for your ereader on Amazon and iTunes. It’s cheap, and awesome! Please help support the site!

Posted in Horror Stories | 10 Comments

Why First Dates Don’t Matter

Posted on November 22, 2011 by B

Customary first date attire.

People worry a lot about the first date. They try on different outfits, prepare topics of conversation, shave hair off preposterous parts of their body – all to make a good impression. Gotta kill on the first date. Gotta sweep ’em off their feet. Gotta strike while  the iron is hot. Blah Blah Blah. First dates are for chumps. Anyone can make a good first impression – it’s the second one that really matters.

Recently I took a perfectly delightful woman out for a first date. We had, I will say without qualification, a great time. We had drinks – only two of course – but she was genuinely hilarious. She made fun of the other patrons in a playful but inspired way, struck up a bizarre friendship with our 80 year-old waitress, she even poked fun at several of my more obvious absurdities. I have trained myself to not care about promising first dates, but on this one I allowed myself a glimmer of optimism. She was cute, she was funny, and she was smart. That’s The Big 3. The only person I’ve ever seen with The Big Four is Angela Lansbury – but the difference in our ages is too big to overcome. (And yes, the Big Fourth attribute is having starred in a television show about an elderly crime novelist who solved mysteries on the side.) So the first date was great. Wanna guess how the second one went?

Lousy. Of course it went lousy. You didn’t actually need to guess, did you? Truthfully, the date was fine, but the things that don’t present themselves, the facts make two people entirely incompatible, they don’t show up on a first date. On a second date, as you pass into three hours of actually, you know, knowing each other, that’s when the shit becomes real friggin’ evident. Shit like her fondness for the phrase “wackadoodle.” Or her legitimate terror when a dog tried to lick her jeans. Or what can only be described as a startling disregard for the merits of oral hygiene. Was this date a disaster? Not especially, we just weren’t right for each other. I’m sure she could list off a few things I did that drove her crazy (endless discussion of Angela Lansbury, for instance), things that she also had no idea of after our first date.

So, to keep things simple, I’ve drawn up a little schedule of what we should all be asking ourselves during the first three dates. It’s simple, it’s pragmatic, and, as always, it’s utter genius. Ready?

Date #4: Is this person Angela Lansbury?

Date #1: Is this person tolerable?

Date #2: Is this person likable?

Date #3: Will this person let me have sex with them?

That’s it. That’s all you need to know. Don’t jump ahead, don’t try to finish assignments you’re not ready for yet. Just do what can reasonably be done at the moment. Because you can’t really know when you first meet someone whether there’ll be something there. You’re taking in too much other information. What’s up with their accent? Why don’t their shoes have any laces in them? Why is there fifty dollars missing from my wallet? To consider the potential of loving – or even especially liking – someone at first sight is just preposterous. I’m not sure it really happens. In movies, sure, especially if that someone is the coolest vampire in your high school, but otherwise – not so much.

So look, friends, don’t worry about romance on date number one. So many people do it, get all worked up, then email me and ask for advice. “I really thought we had a really good night. But I’m not sure if there was a spark. I mean, she smiled a lot, and let me pay for the drinks, but… I don’t know!!! I hope there was a spark! Do you think there was a spark?!” The answer is, I don’t have any fucking idea. And neither do you. In my case, it’s because I don’t particularly care. But in your case, it’s because there’s no way of knowing. If you had a good time, ask them out again and see if you can have a better one. That’s all you need to worry about right now.

I say all this in an effort to take the pressure off. A first date is the easiest date to have. No pressure, no expectations, let’s just see if we can get along. Date number two is when things get more difficult. Critical thought is going on, tough questions are being asked. Chances are, if you pass the second date hurdle, you’re gonna have a good many more. That’s the real decision maker. Unless of course you fuck up date number three. That’s when people start taking off their shirts, and hell if I know what to do in that predicament. But worry about it then. Let the first date be the first date. OK? OK.

Posted in Advice | 4 Comments

How is This My Match? Vol 7

Posted on November 4, 2011 by B

I’ve been in LA for a month now, and I’ve found the city’s women to be pretty, well, normal. Sure, they talk about yoga more than most people, and yes, many do seem to be tan in a way that doesn’t appear to be generated by the actual sun – but for the most part it’s gone well. However, after one too many conversations about show business, I have on occasion found myself yearning for something more wholesome. Thankfully, my Daily 5 Match recommendations have delivered on that need…

 

64 year-old woman
Girard, Ohio

seeking men 64-68
within 50 miles of Girard, Ohio

I mean, come on. What am I supposed to do with this? I’m sure she’s a wonderful lady, she really does look very sweet, but is the idea that I’m going to email her and get all flirty flirty? Is that how Match sees this going? I look over her profile and craft a few of my trademark personalized little quips – trying to be suggestive, but not all that suggestive, because that’s not how you treat a lady? Then I tell her pictures are very cute and that I sincerely hope she writes me back because I think there’s a potential for a deep emotional connection here? Plus some pretty serious bone time? That’s how this is going to play, Match, this romance you’ve just suggested I begin with a 64 year-old woman who lives over 2400 miles away from me? Because I’m not sure I see that working. Oh, and when do I ask her what it was like to play the psychic in the Poltergeist movies? Because that’s coming up. Don’t think for a minute that’s not coming up.

 I don’t mean to make fun of this woman, I really don’t. But I’m 33 and I live in Los Angeles. She’s 64 and lives in Girard, Ohio. We are not going to be lovers. In fact, just typing the word lovers in this context has made me a little queasy.

This is generally what I find sexually appealing…

Not this…

Although I will admit that a nicely wrapped gift does get me pretty hot. But this isn’t just physical. At the beginning of each Match profile, they hit you with a few facts, a thumbnail sketch of the person, so you can evaluate quickly how you feel. Here’s Mrs. Santa’s:

Relationship: Widow / Widower

Have kids: Yes, they live away from home (1)

Want kids: No, but it’s OK if my partner has kids

Height: 5’1″ (155cms)

Faith: Christian / Other

Drink: Never

Every single one of those is something I specifically said I did not want. Specifically. Did not want. And this is one of five BEST matches you had for me today, Match? Who didn’t make the cut? An alien? Someone who’s already dead? Or perhaps an inanimate object, like, say, an ironing board?

And just to be clear, I’m certain Claus wouldn’t be any happier to see me turn up in her inbox. Check out the rest of her profile.

What She’s Looking For: I love the Lord, Jesus Christ, with all my heart and he is first in my life. What I am looking for in a man: he must be a believer in the Lord, friendly, considerate, a real gentlemen and treat me like a lady.

I don’t believe in God, haven’t been to church in fifteen years, am not particularly friendly, and, I think we can all agree, pretty close to be a full-fledged dick.

For Fun: Bible study.

Not so much.

Favorite Hot Spots: Church.

I think you can see where this is going.

Faith: I am a follower of Jesus Christ and he is my personal savior.

Aaaaand Yahtzee! Is that how you get Yahtzee? Three messages of devotion in less that five sentences? I don’t know, it’s been a while since I played.

The point is this, that while this lovely woman would make someone a perfectly delightful mate, that someone is most decidedly not me. Or anyone like me. And I’m sure she’d be the first to agree.

Which is why I again have to ask…

How is This My Match?!?

Posted in How is This My Match? | 3 Comments

Your Awful Story Olympics IX

Posted on October 28, 2011 by B

Herrrrre's Johnny's email!

There will be only one Awful Story Olympic Medal this month, kids. When you read it, you’ll understand why.  In my months of writing this site and years of Internet dating personally, I have never encountered an email so bizarre, insulting, and borderline terrifying. Actually, it’s the perfect email for Halloween week. Like any good horror flick, it starts out strange, a little bit eery, but you tell yourself not to worry. It’s just an email. Then, as it picks up steam, you can feel the hairs on the back of your neck start to stand up, and you make sure to flip a few more lights on in the house. Finally, when the climax arrives, you’re so freaked out you’re locking the front door and checking for the monster hiding under your bed. It’s just that upsetting. To this month’s other entrants, don’t worry, you’ll be back in the running in November. Sadly, this month, you never stood a chance.

The Gold

An email received by Kelly A. in the Bay area. Keep in mind, she’s a nurse…

Hello,

I’m interested in an email correspondence.

I see you only want to go 25 miles for a boyfriend. We’re about 110 miles apart. We can discuss the distance through email further if it is your main concern of yours, (I don’t mean to sound like this is a business contract) I’ll start with this:

1. If you spend $40 a trip once a month for the day, the weekend, whatever, you’d spend about $480 in a year running back and forth. Possibly less depending on the kind of car you drive. I would come down of course too.

2. I feel like there is something wrong with the guys in the valley/bay area otherwise they’d already be taken. The reason I’m not taken, hardly anyone is willing to go the distance. Even from the Modesto, Stockton area.

3. We can discuss initial dating and how that could work through email if this is a concern of yours. We could meet in Tracy for an initial meeting. Then I’d be willing to come to San Ramon for a couple of half-day type dates. This plan isn’t set in stone but I’m trying to say you wouldn’t have to spend much money on travel in the course of getting to know me.

4. If the relationship worked out I have quite a bit of flexibility (when I can take time off work) and I can often come for 3 or 4 day weekends.

5. I’ve been doing this online dating thing for about three years off and on and I see the same women come on here again and again, I doubt you will find anyone in your area.

The reason I haven’t emailed you is because of your dog. I don’t usually email anyone with a dog. I don’t have a fenced yard. I live on a steep hill and it gets too cold to leave dog’s outside at night where I’m at. Do you have a relative you could drop that dog off with when you would come to visit me?

I’m from Fremont and my parents still have a condo there. I could stay in it during initial dating.

I think one of the reasons you don’t want to go very far for a boyfriend is because you won’t get the same pay elsewhere.

The other major problem is that I don’t want to move. In my town, (by the way my county has about 60,000 full time residents) is Sonora Regional Hospital, which is a four story tall hospital, (and relatively new building). Also, Adventist Health hospital, where they hire RN’s starting at close to $40 an hour and they’ll hire you on part time as little as two days a week. Which would work pretty well in the event of a kid. Even if you couldn’t get medical insurance with two days a week, I don’t think the cost of medical insurance is an insurmountable obstacle. If this scenario were to work out, I would take care of the kid the two days a week you’re working, we wouldn’t drop it off in daycare or anything.

They recently changed the law on medical rates and men and women now have to pay the same rate (in the same age groups) and my rate went up to $114 a month from $100 a month. This is Blue Cross, but I’m on the $3500 plan which means I have to pay the first $3500 in medical expenses cumulative for the year every year but I get blue cross’s negotiated rate. Up until a year and a half ago I was on the $40 copay plan but the Obama care thing increased costs immediately (for several reasons) and my rate went from $160 to $217 a month and I rarely go to any type of doctor so it didn’t make sense for me to be on that plan anymore. Even these are surmountable costs if you could work like two days a week.

My neighbor is an accountant at Sonora Regional and he’s been there over 20 years. Recently I was discussing the feasibility of an experienced RN getting a job at Sonora regional. In the case of a girl friend moving to me. He said It’s a little harder now than a couple of years ago. He mentioned you could still probably get in after about a two-month wait. He mentioned most of the nurses only work two or three days a week. If we were to begin a relationship we could discuss this with my neighbor very early on in the relationship.

If my income bothers you, we can discuss that further through email. I’ve gotten in trouble before bragging to women on here about how much money I can make in a day. The problem is that you’re in a higher income bracket. If I continue making money at the rate I’m going for the rest of the year I’ll be at about 88,000 pre tax profit for the year and I have down time too. The last two weeks of June were very slow.

I don’t expect your email response to be this long and my future emails won’t be this long.

Hope to hear back from you soon,

Creepiest Motherfucker On The Face of The Earth

I’ve never written a post about what not to say in a first email, because really, where would I begin? But now I see. This is where I begin.

So…ahem…here we go.

When Writing a First Email, What Shouldn’t You Do?

  1. Tell the person it will probably cost them $500 to date you.
  2. Suggest, right off the bat, several half-day dates in a city your date doesn’t live in.
  3. Tell your date you doubt she will find anyone better in her area.
  4. Ask your date to please leave her dog elsewhere for the many, as of yet unplanned, weekends spent at your house.
  5. Admit that while one of you will certainly have to move to have a relationship together, state plainly that you will not be moving anywhere.
  6. Bring up the potential of you two having a kid.
  7. You know what, let’s do that one again. Bring up the potential of you two having a kid.
  8. Spend an entire paragraph explaining the intricacies of your current health insurance payment structure.
  9. Imply, or basically outright declare, that you have asked your neighbor about the feasibility of your date – someone you have never met, spoken to, or can even conclusively prove exists – getting a job at the hospital in your town.
  10. Try to comfort your date by telling her that she too could speak to said neighbor.
  11. Tell your date that you’ve gotten into trouble in the past by bragging about your salary.
  12. Immediately follow that by bragging about your salary.
  13. And, just for old time’s sake, bring up the potential of you two having a kid.

So there you go. Those are the 13 things you shouldn’t do in a first email. I’m sorry I didn’t list them earlier. I feel I’ve let you all down.

God bless you, Kate in the Bay area. I hope to heaven you have your front door securely locked.

Have a story that’s even 10% as awful as that one? Send them to It’s Not a Match here! 

"You're crazy, man. You're crazy."

Posted in Your Awful Stories | 10 Comments

Are Racial Preferences Racist?

Posted on October 21, 2011 by B

Totally organic group of people

Every dating website asks you the same question: what ethnicity are you looking for in a mate? You think about, feel a little uncomfortable, then read over the dreaded options…

  • Asian
  • Black/African Descent
  • East Indian
  • Latino/Hispanic
  • Middle Eastern
  • Native American
  • Pacific Islander
  • White/Caucasian
  • Other
  • All
  • Sorry If We Left Anyone Out, We’re Really Trying Hard Not To Be Offensive About This. Again, We’re Really Super Sorry, All Races Are Great. Even Middle Easterners! Sorry, Especially Middle Easterners! Sorry! Did We Say We’re Sorry? Sorry!

It really is that awkward. I mean, is there any process that is so incredibly PC andracist simultaneously? Because, as a white person, I’m totally cool with you just calling us “White” or “Caucasian”, Match, you really don’t have to do both. And I don’t know any black people, but I’ve seen them on TV, and I have a feeling they’d be fine with you leaving out “African Descent” too. But even as these dating websites stumble all over themselves to handle this with sensitivity, they’re asking you, essentially, to pick which races you like. Or which races you’d like to date, if that distinction makes you feel less icky. And so what do you do?

"That person! I want to date that person!"

Well, if you’re anything like me, and for your sake I really hope that you’re not, you click the box next to “All.” All races. That’s who you’d like to date. Even though it’s not really who you’d like to date, you just feel it’s the right message to send out to the universe. You are a Modern Thinker. Open Minded. You will Date Anyone — regardless of color, race, or creed. And then, when Match sends you your liberal, open-minded options, you calmly look them over, then click only on the pictures of the races that interest you. Because not only are you not Open Minded, but you’re also a wuss.

For a while, I did this. I told my computer I would date anyone, just so it thought I was a nice person, and then proceeded to look only at white people. It was pathetic, frankly. And I have a feeling that perhaps you are equally pathetic. I didn’t want to be racist, so instead I was just racist very, very quietly. And it cost me time, convenience, and made precisely zero people feel better. So I have stopped clicking “All.” Now I just click “White,” and have come to terms with being just a little bit of a dick. (On all other topics, I’m a huge dick.)

Make no mistake, this is definitely racist. Saying you don’t want to date Blacks, or Asians, or Native Americans because you’re just not attracted to them isracist. It’s just not offensive. At least, in my opinion. I, myself, am simply not attracted people who aren’t White. As much as it hurts my liberal leanings and Democratic voting record to say so, it’s the truth. I don’t dislike them, I just don’t feel the urge to sex them. Black ladies don’t turn my head in a crowd. Middle Eastern women don’t catch my eye in a bar. Asian girls just don’t turn me on. Unless I’m looking for someone to iron a real crisp collar onto my shirt, then I got all hot and bothered. (I kid, I kid). And, as it’s an exclusionary practice decided entirely by the color of one’s skin, that’s racist. But does anyone really care?

The "It's Not a Match" race riots

There will not be, I don’t think, a rash of race riots outside the It’s Not a Match offices when minorities learn they will probably not be dating me. Primarily because we don’t have offices. But also because there’s two kinds of racism. There’s good racism, and bad racism. OK, scratch that. There’s no such thing as good racism. But there’s accidental racism. You can’t help who you’re attracted to. If a group of people just doesn’t do it for you, they just don’t do it for you. So there’s no need to be bashful and apologetic about your preferences. Ask the average person if they’re interested in dating someone from X or Y race, and they’ll hem and haw before they give you an answer. “Well…I never have…but I would, I just…you know, I don’t know. Sure, I would. I guess, yeah, I would!” Translation: no, they wouldn’t. But what are they so awkward about? Some people are attracted to people from all races, some people are not. Just like some people like short people, tall people, fat people, or very fat people. To each his own! Unless you preferences are formed by hate or idiocy, then you need not apologize. It’s nice, but it’s stupid. Like what you like, wussypants.

But let me guess, you still feel uncomfortable, don’t you? If you’re not sure whether your dating preferences make you a bad racist or an understandable one, please consult the Official It’s Not a Match Guide to Dating Bigotry…

If any of the following are reasons you DON’T want to date someone, you’re BAD RACIST.

  • You’re concerned about spending every date eating Szechuan chicken, fried chicken, chicken curry, chicken kebobs, or really any kind of specifically prepared chicken.
  • You think you’re not good enough at math for them.
  • You think you’re too good at math for them.
  • You don’t watch UPN.
  • Salsa gives you the toots.
  • You “found Dances with Wolves boring.”
  • You don’t think you have that much to say about the railroads.
  • You have any opinion whatsoever about their music.
  • You bet they won’t get that you’re wearing the white hood ironically.
  • You haven’t been that pleased with Barack Obama.

If any of the following are reasons you DO want to date someone, you’re also BAD RACIST.

  • You feel like you really “got” The Chappelle Show.
  • You consider how comfortable you are taking the subway to be one of your best qualities.
  • Finally, someone to watch sports with!
  • You’ve always wanted to learn how to use a wok.
  • Your kids “will look just like those little nesting dolls!”
  • This will make your role play fantasies so much more authentic.
  • You saw Three Amigos six times.
  • You haven’t been that pleased with Barack Obama.
Posted in Advice, Internet Dating is Weird | 100 Comments

OKCupid Segregates Based on Looks; Prevents the Average From Meeting the Attractive

Posted on October 13, 2011 by B

Here it is, folks, the first ever It’s Not a Match expose. Previously, the closest we’d come to actual reporting was retelling a story about a girl who peed her pants. It was gripping and powerful, but it was somehow overlooked when Pulitzer time rolled around. And sure, this post will be overlooked too, but at least it’s not about pee…

It has come to my attention, from one of my skilled It’s Not a Match tipsters, that OKCupid is up to some shit that is decidedly not OK. Though the site claims to be entirely egalitarian and for the masses, the reality is it is actively preventing its less attractive members from finding and contacting people deemed out of their league. OKCupid, it seems, purposefully encourages only people of similar appearance level to speak to each other. Moreover, if the site feels you’re a touch too…um…ugly, it will keep particularly attractive people from appearing in your searches. How do I know? Well, they come right out and tell you.

Here’s an email they recently sent to a member…

How fucked up is that?! Sure, they’ve disguised it pretty nicely, but beneath OKCupid’s usual rhetorical flourishes (“Yeah, Stan, put in the thing about the haircut! That’ll kill!”) it is a very simple message:

Dear User,

You have now been deemed attractive enough to see other attractive people. Perviously, you were too ugly.

Congratulations

-The Devil

Obviously it’s the goal of every dating website to try to match up compatible people, but I thought that meant two people up who liked soccer, or Olivia Newton John. Turns out it’s really just about putting hotties with other hotties. So…since when is compatibility all about appearance? I mean seriously, give me one good reason why 5’s on the beauty scale should be prevented from having 8’s, 9’s, and 10’s recommended to them by their dating site? Because they might start emailing the 10’s and uglying up their inbox with untold amounts of spittle and unfortunate facial hair? That is ridiculous. Compatibility has so much more to do with it than looks. It’s about chemistry, vibe, emotional intimacy, not just finding someone who’s an equal level of cute. At the very least they should take penis size into account! What about penis size?!?!

Sure, it softens the blow that OKCupid leaves the determination of a user’s appearance up to the clicks and ratings of other members, but it’s still not great. It would be worse if there was a giant guy wearing a diaper who sat in a chair and stamped 2’s, 7’s, and 10’s on people’s pictures all day, but why is appearance weighted so heavily begin with? The Quickmatch function that the email mentions is pretty much a “Hot or Not” picture game that the website provides. They show you someone’s image, a bit of their profile, and you rate them from 1-5. It’s not based on charm or personality or, of course, any sort of true compatibility – it’s based on the quality of their smile, or more simply, how sweet their rack is.

It’s ironic that, of all sites, OKCupid segregates their members so superficially. After all, it’s one of the few totally free dating sites, designed to give everyone a chance to find their perfect partner. Of course, they forgot to mention that your partner better within a 10% range of your hotness, otherwise you’re shit out of luck. And what about the name? Does Cupid they’re fucking with his image? Cupid is all about bringing an unlikely and star-crossed pair together just by the strike of one of his magical arrows, isn’t he? What if OKCupid shoots the arrow at someone too ugly – does it just bounce off? Or does he have specially labeled arrows, “super hot only”, “average face, amazing body”, “great hair but fucked up teeth” and dole them out accordingly? Perhaps one day they’ll send me a branded form letter via email and let me know. Either way, Cupid’s gonna be pissed when he finds out.

I’m sure much of my indignation is foolishly spent. All dating websites surely adjust for physical appearance in some way, but it never occurred to me that they were keeping different types of people away from each other. I mean, Match regularly suggests beautiful women to me, and I’m a real bowzer. Perhaps the separation has been going on all along and I never realized it. But I for one think we should get see all the options, and let us sort out who is and isn’t right for us. No segregation necessary.

Unless they can weed out the girls who pee their pants. Then I’m totally on board.

Posted in Internet Dating is Weird | 23 Comments

Women vs. Short Guys Revisited

Posted on October 7, 2011 by B

Martin Short

Most posts I write get three comments. Women vs Short Guys: Dating’s Fiercest Battleground, my daring exploration of the dark world that is tiny dude daters, has received sixty-five. It’s been republished by at least five other outlets and been read by twice as many people as anything I’ve ever posted. Including the detective fiction starring my cat, Inspector Whiskerton, that went up briefly in the bleak hours following Valentine’s Day, 2010. So clearly, people are fascinated by the plight of single short guys, and I just had to revisit the topic.

Easily some of the craziest things you guys have said to me were a result of this article. Here’s ROSA, a woman who is, herself, short, and might therefore have some sympathy for similar men. Turns out, no.

I am sick and tired of short men approaching me thinking that because I’m a short girl, I like short guys. I HATE SHORT GUYS! Just because I’m short doesn’t mean I don’t prefer the tall, dark, and handsome guys like the rest of us women. I really wish all men shorter than 6’2″ should be rounded up and shot.

Rounded up and shot, folks. Rounded. Up. And. Shot. Which is a practical enough suggestion, but where would we find all the shoeboxes to bury them in? ROSA, however, was not finished.

Us women should hold dating sites accountable and demand that they add fraud protection to stop short men from lying about their height. ANY man under 6’1″ IS NOT a compatible match for me. Men who lie about their height or try to conceal their height with elevator [shoes] should be arrested for fraud!

Is Rosa insane? Of course she is. But nearly every women I’ve heard from agrees with her general assessment. Short guys aren’t just unappealing, they’re maddeningly unappealing. They’re like the Tea Party of the dating universe: it’s not that you dislike them, it’s that you can’t understand how they don’t dislike themselves. Like their size is somehow an insult. It’s all, frankly, a little disturbing. And it’s getting some short guys down. (Pun intended.) Here’s a tall guy so screwed up that he thinks he’s actually short…

As an average height guy, 5’11”, I can pretty much get away with dating most girls who insist on just being taller than them. What I can’t get over is my own Napoleon complex, because my dad is 6’3”, my brother 6’4”, my best friend 6’7” and 3/5 of my close friends over 6’3”. I am a short stack wherever I go, and it has warped my psyche.

“Told you I was taller than this chair!”

This is what we’ve become, people. A 5’11” guy with a Napolean complex. Do you know how pissed Napolean would be? People almost six feet tall bitching about their height? He’d smack this guy right in the face. After climbing up on a stool, of course. Or at least a couple of phone books. He continues…

I’m fit, not ugly, have a thick head of hair, and a good job, but my height insecurities make me only message girls 5’4” and shorter so that there is no way in heels they are taller than me.
Call it what you will, but I wouldn’t wish my future child to be anything less than 6’3”.

I will tell you something now that is not at all funny and is certainly not a joke. Short men have emailed me and talked about committing suicide. Because of their height. BECAUSE OF THEIR FUCKING HEIGHT. That is not cool, ladies. To feel disregarded because of something you have no power to change and did nothing to create, I’m sure that is all kinds of awful – and what bitter part of my heart remains goes out to these guys. But I shouldn’t just be speaking to the ladies, because we all do this. Men have their own checklist of traits that we will unfairly deem sacrosanct. As always seems to happen, men quickly turned on the larger ladies.

[Women] should be asked to list their weight… A woman’s height/weight ratio really does give a sense of her body type and degree of fitness (waist size would help too)…

Just because you played JV basketball in high school does not make you athletic and toned…

[For women] 30 pounds overweight seems to be the new “average” now…

A short stack

And that’s the stuff I didn’t delete immediately. You would be amazed at how many times the word “fatties” appears in the trashed comments of this blog. But it doesn’t stop there. I mentioned short men, and everyone else’s insecurities came calling. Tall men worrying they’re short, average breasted women worrying they’re small, people in wheelchairs worrying they’re weird, folks with abnormalities so rare they won’t even mention them online. And everybody feels bad about it. Why? Because someone sometime somewhere made it clear that they were a problem that need to be solved. Which brings me to my favorite of all the comments I received on Women vs. Short Guys. From that great sage, Anonymous:

Now I know why these people are 30 and still single.

We’re all fucked up. That’s why we’re Internet dating. Sure, we work too much, and sure we’re tired of meeting people in bars, and sure we’re searching for someone very particular – but let’s be honest, if we Internet daters were such prizes, chances are we wouldn’t be Internet dating to begin with, right? So why would we let other Internet daters, other members of this wackjob fraternity, tell us that we’re not enough? We’re too short or we’re too fat or we’re too willing to post stories about our cats solving supernatural crimes in turn of the century London, England? Guess what, chances are, they’re short too. Or they’re angry. Or they pee a little every time they sneeze. They’re other thirty-something daters — they’re fuck-ups too! An Internet dater tells you short? So what. They probably fart in their sleep. Or pick their teeth with business cards. Or ask their cleaning lady if it’s OK if they call her “Mother.” We’re all, as Anonymous said, 30 and single. So who the hell are we to talk shit?

Now get out there and meet somebody awesome.

And if you’re under six feet tall, have some decency and buy a good pair of lifts. You’re never gonna meet anyone looking like a freak.

For more hilarity and oddity, buy my new book Not a Match: My True Tales of Online Dating Disasters. 

Available for your ereader on Amazon and iTunes. It’s cheap, and awesome! Please help support the site!

Posted in Internet Dating is Weird, Your Awful Stories | 349 Comments