Tag Archives: dating

Hater Dater Later Gator

Miss me?

While I was away someone told me about a dating site that matches people up by the things they hate, which sounds like a good idea because matching by likes is totes for 15 year olds.

Of course the thing I hate most is dating sites. And dating. So, already we’re in an infinite existential loop like when we program the system to put the catalog of catalogs in the catalog of catalogs. Or something.

Just in case you think I’m making this up in order to have something funny to blargh about (as if), here’s a link to the app.

And here’s an article that sorts hates by state. It’s a strange list. Then again… people. Right?

Whaddayagonnado.

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Date with a Vet

Kevin was
Too old for me, but
He knew where to get good drugs.
Guys my age
Don’t like to smoke pot anymore–
They’re too busy making money.
Kevin discussed
His failed relationships
And growth experiences;
He said,
“There’s nothing I’ve done
That Jackson Browne hasn’t
Sung about.”
Later we walked by the lake
On slippery stones
And cold night sand;
The stars had
Someplace better to go.
I asked Kevin if he,
You know,
Ever killed anybody over there,
And he said,
“You bet I did, baby.
I shot ’em dead.”
Kevin called
A few months later–
Said he was having trouble
Meeting people
(He meant women)
Here in the Windy City–
Thought he’d join Club Med.
I wished him luck, but
Today I read
That Jackson Browne has been
With the same woman for
Several years
And they might even get married.
So, I don’t know
Who’s going to record our culture now.

[originally written in 1989]

~*~

The Daily Prompt: Later

The Lure of Luxury [Dating Story]

It’s been a minute since I treated you to a dating story. Did you think I’d used them all up? Ha ha ha ha. We should be so lucky.

Names and some deets changed to protect the guilty. Also, my memory sucks.

I met this one at the Long Beach Marina. Let’s call him… Benzo cuz he zipped up in a shiny new red MBZ sports car. Hot guy, in good shape, wore jeans, black leather jacket, had a nice smile. We went upstairs for a drink in an upscale bar overlooking the water. So far, so good. (Back then, my headaches weren’t as bad and I still could have occasional alcohol without dying.)

We talked about me for a while. I was only separated then, not divorced, and very much into complaining about my S2BX. Not a great time to date, but we wouldn’t have all these fun stories if I hadn’t, would we? I told Benzo a little about my divorce woes, and he began ranting about his divorce and how his ex-witch stole his business yada. Then he went into a new rage about how college was stupid and a waste of money and I shouldn’t be sending my kids. What?

Despite the few annoying convo twists, I was overall having a good time with Benzo and we ordered some appies and another round of drinks (non-alcoholic for me). Now we were talking about him. He was in real estate, which was our initial one thing in common. What did he do, exactly? Well, he was a bit vague… some sort of partnership dealio with the ex, where she stole everything, as noted. Currently, he was in an “investment pool.”

“What’s that?” I asked. I never care if people think I’m stupid; in fact, I find it amusing.

Benzo babbled about how he and some otter dudes were going to make a shit ton of money on some sketchy properties and bla and bla. I didn’t ask how he managed the new MBZ if this hadn’t happened yet, given that the ex, etc.

“Do you want to live with me in luxury?” he said.

“Oh, sure. Where would we be living?”

“Wherever you like! Beverly Hills or Newport Beach or Santa Barbara. We’ll sleep late and then tell the cook what we want for breakfast. What’s your favorite breakfast?”

“French toast.”

“Fantastic!”

“I’ll need to bring my cat.”

“We’ll have ten cats!”

This guy was some salesman, amirite? He kissed me and it was really nice. I was starting to think about seeing him again, despite his weird anti-college tirade. Who cared what he thought about that? It was totally irrelevant. But I needed to get going ~ it was a weeknight and I had to work the next morning.

The check came. Benzo looked at me. “You’ll never believe it,” he said.

Turned out, Benzo had been so excited to meet me that he forgot his credit card. OMG! And he didn’t carry cash because that’s dangerous. If you’re driving a flash Mercedes you do tend to make yourself a target. Best not to have paper money floating in your pockets to further tempt any bandits. Makes total sense.

So, I paid. Of course. I picked up the tab for the hot guy in the luxury car who has probably made so much money by now from his RE investment pool he is tripping over stacks of cash on the way to his gold-plated toilet every morning.

I didn’t see him again.

Bling car

~*~

Via The Daily Prompt: Luxury

Worlds Collide [Dating Story]

[Names and some other specifics changed to protect identities.]

Some time ago I met a man on a dating site. Let’s call him Walter. He was a teacher. We chatted on the phone, made a plan to meet at a local cafe, yada. I was pleasantly surprised to discover in person that he was a nice-looking guy who seemed smart, funny, etc. Then he looked out the window and said, “Hey, there’s my roommate!”

I saw an elderly lady walking slowly down the sidewalk. “Her?”

“Yeah, the old lady!” Walter laughed. “A couple years ago I answered her ad for a roomie because I didn’t have much money after my divorce. We hit it off and have been together ever since. This is our second apartment together.”

“Oo-kay.” The woman was probably around 80; Walter was my age, around 50. “Doesn’t that interfere with your social life?”

“Nah. We have our own rooms and bathrooms. Sometimes when I have a date we all watch TV together in the living room. It’s totally cool.”

Walter and I hung out for a while longer and I asked him why he broke up with his last girlfriend. “Skyler was a wealthy divorcee,” he told me. “Traveled a lot and played golf all day, but I had to work. Eventually she got really clingy and wanted me to move into her house.”

“But that seems ideal,” I said. “Or… didn’t you want to leave your roommate?”

He shrugged. “I like my life the way it is.”

Walter asked me out again, but his sitch with the roomie was just too weird and I declined. I didn’t understand what was going on there, plus Walter didn’t seem like he wanted any kind of serious relationship in the near future. I don’t like to date just to date. End of.

Around six months later I met a new man on a different dating site. Let’s call him Hank. I really liked this dude. We chatted, made plans, yada. In person, he was even better. Very smart, very funny. I had high hopes for this. We went to a nice sushi place for our first meeting, not a boring coffee date. It was all going really well, I thought. Then I asked him one of my standard questions: what happened with your last girlfriend.

“She was a wealthy divorcee,” Hank said. “Traveled a lot and played golf all day. That’s not really my lifestyle. We were together only a couple months.”

“That’s funny,” I said. “A guy I met a while back said the exact same thing. And she asked him to move in.”

“So did Skyler.”

“Oh, my God! It’s the same person!”

Hank stared at me. “The teacher who was living with the old lady?”

“She told you about him?”

“Yup. He was really weird.”

“Haha, I thought he was too. I only met him the once.” The conversation was so odd. Hank had dated, for a couple months, the woman that Walter had been with for a while. It was so bizarre that I’d picked both of them out of dating sites. Did they have a common quality that attracted Skyler and me, or was it all a logistical coincidence of ages and locations? I felt very awkward and uncomfortable for a few minutes, pondering this while keeping up normal chitchat.

But the rest of our date went fine, I thought. No problems. I had a good time. Hank seemed to as well. We hugged and said we’d stay in touch. And we did, a little. But he never asked me out again.

Time passed. Finally I emailed Hank and said hello bla bla and hey why hadn’t we gotten together again?

Hank said that was a good question and it deserved a thoughtful answer.

But I never received one. Or any answer at all.

The end.

Jenga Stack of Pain

Jenga

I’ve just finished Remember Mia by Alexandra Burt. It’s a fabulous book, so beautifully written, and I highly recommend it. More and more I enjoy stories that aren’t told “straight.” I want to figure things out with the protag, knowing that what s/he tells me might not be correct at all. Facts get mangled, dialog is misremembered, perceptions fade over time. That’s the way we live our lives, isn’t it? We try to interpret the shadows best we can, and sometimes we hold onto ideas that are terribly wrong.

Last night I fell asleep while reading the book and dreamt I’d finished it. I woke up unable to remember the ending and became a bit upset. Had my memory become that bad? But no. I had about 20% left to read. Whew! The story is so engrossing that I got tangled up in the mommy emotions to the point where I thought I couldn’t bear it. There are some thoughts I simply can’t entertain. But I did finish, for real.

When I began this poast, I wanted to use the Jenga quote for my title, but I couldn’t search for it, since this was a real book. I took my best shot… and it turned out to be incorrect. The quote (found the old-fashioned way) is as follows:

I need him to be strong–not for me, for himself–because I was able to cope, have been coping, but I just can’t add any more weight to my Jenga stack of agony. (p. 396)

This is pure awesomeness.

I was going to blather on about my own life and how I discovered strength when I thought I had none, after people told me I was incapable of doing anything on my own, bla bla bla, how I piled everything on very carefully and it’s holding steady, which is why I can’t deal with any new drama whatsoever, etc., but who cares? Read the book. It’s so good.

The Rosie Project

The Rosie Project is an interesting book by Graeme Simsion. It’s a romance novel, but in first person and 100% from the man’s POV. Not just any man though ~ Don is on the autism spectrum. I enjoy how Don makes his plans and lists, scheduling his days/weeks for maximum efficiency. Although he is very judgmental about other people’s inefficiencies, brainpower, and BMI, which could have been annoying to read, the narrator infuses it all with humor, and Don is often able to engage in a bit of inadvertent self-mockery. Those factors make TRP fun.

At the start, Don begins a “wife project,” which reminds me of all the endless dating questionnaires and tests and bullshit I’ve engaged in over the years. There’s nothing that weird about Don’s method, except he devises his own very complex questionnaire rather than going online and doing a canned version. Of course it fails, like they all do, because love doesn’t spontaneously generate from a pile of matching scores. I don’t mind the predictability of this because it is a romance, after all, and true to the formula, but at a certain point I just get a little bored.

I don’t want to spoil anything, so I’ll just say that The Rosie Project becomes repetitive toward the end, and it suffers the fate of all first-person romances, which is that while we are treated to Don’s thoughts and feelings (yes, he haz feelings!) in glorious detail, we’re never in the heroine’s POV, so her moods and actions are as inexplicable to us as they are to Don. What are we supposed to make of Rosie’s abrupt changes of mind? Idk, because she may or may not be telling Don the truth ~ maybe she isn’t sure of it herself. Don has a hard time processing other people’s confusing behaviors, and since we are in his head, it’s hard for us to do that as well.

So, I gave the book four stars on Goodreads, which means I liked it a lot, but it wasn’t “amazing.” Most of the Amazon reviewers gave it five stars.

Quickie on Self-Publishing

This article came up in my personalized newsfeed and I thought it might be of some interest to writer peeps.

Self-publishing used to be synonymous with unprestigious “vanity publishing,” where well-off authors who couldn’t get their books into print by traditional means paid small, independent presses to publish them. But with the advent of e-books, social reading sites and simple digital self-publishing software and platforms, all that has changed. An increasing proportion of authors now actively choose to self-publish their work, giving them better control over their books’ rights, marketing, distribution and pricing. (Amy-Mae Elliott)

A good chunk of the article is basically an ad for Wattpad, which I’d never heard of, so I checked it out for my loyal readers. K, pain in butt… that was easy. You can’t browse for stuff like on Amazon; you have to log in and join a “community” to see what books are there. Stupid!

But this did remind me of how I’d planned to put Burnt Offerings up on Smashwords and forgot. So I’mma gonna do that today!

Anyway… point is, self-publishing is getting cooler and more mainstreamed all the time, just like online dating! Er, hopefully with better results. 🙂

Maybe He’s Just…

MHJAA

…An Asshole!

This book was a fast, fun read! Really enjoyed it. I know peeps are going to have problems with the writing ~ it’s certainly not scientific in any way. The “asshole ratings” are totally arbitrary. The author says the scenarios are a mishmash of experiences, which means, to me, that some of them could be straight out of her imagination.

But so what? Any woman who has been in the dating circus recently can relate to at least some of MHJAA ~ there are a lot of jerks out there! But more than that, it was clear that the author had fun writing this book. At least, it appears that way from her use of casual language, metaphors and puns. The chapters roll right along like a comedy routine, even though the vignettes contain serious advice as well.

AND YES OF COURSE women can be horrible too, but hey write yer own book about that. This one is for women who have been with jerks and want to laugh about it and/or get a bit of help in avoiding jerks in the future.

One serious issue that was hinted at but basically glossed over is that staying with an asshole is like gazing into the abyss… sooner or later you’re going to end up an asshole yourself. The author noted some shitty female behaviors that stem from being with a selfish guy, an untrustworthy guy, a manipulator, etc., but she didn’t flat-out state the obvious ~ you resort to acting like a jerk in order to feel OK about being with one. Whether it’s nagging or spying or lying or whatever yucky behaviors you engage in… being with someone who’s bad for you takes a toll on your personality.

And sometimes it’s hard to toss that baggage after you’ve ended a relationship. It tends to cling to you like barnacles, depending how long you’ve been dealing with assholes. You find yourself acting snippy and shrewish and paranoid with the next man, whether he deserves it or not.

Luckily, most do! Bwah.

I was thrilled at the end of the book when Amazon recommended Natalie Lue’s books to buy next. I haven’t quoted or linked to her in a while, but she’s still awesome. 🙂