Monthly Archives: August 2014

Dating Web Site Shenanigans

Red Zone

Last night, while out, I serendipitously met a guy who had seen me on OKC and remembered my profile name. That impressed me, as I rarely bother to remember the profile names of those with whom I interact, let alone those I do not meet. Heck, until I’ve agreed to a second or even third date beyond the meet and greet, I don’t pay too much attention to their details (hence the Dave mixups). Unless they end up in my life, I simply don’t need to fill my head with that minutia.

Anyway, this guy is tall, cute, and very nice. I initiated conversation as he guarded the exit from an exclusive area of a local hotel. Tall Witty and Wonderful (TWW for future reference) and I were leaving, and I teased him lightly about guarding the exit instead of the entrance.  As the evening wore on, it became clear he was quite interested in TWW, who by the way, was wearing 3” fmps last night. With shorts! (Once again, I performed my wingman duties with alacrity; he’s attending a Cards Against Humanity party at my house tomorrow… so is TWW of course).

While we chatted, he mentioned that I had viewed his profile on several occasions… 3 he said. How the heck does one remember such things? I thought he was cute; I probably would have remembered his face; I am good at that. Later, he told me that his photos included an older picture of him from his military days as a sniper. He knew some women didn’t like guns, so he wanted that information very visible. I grew up around guns, and they do not offend me, so guys who include photos of this hobby don’t make me run off. Another prominent photo was one of his Weimaraner, a breed I like.

My point: I would have remembered this guy, but I didn’t. I think something fishy is going on with the dating site. Similarly, on Match, as soon as my account expired, I once again received dozens of views and winks a day. I’m cynical enough to think the sites intentionally send views and winks to keep people interested. Costs are far from cheap on Match….when considering the matches at least. OKC, the free site, may receive more ads or more ad money for increased activity.

On a side note, the guy (Guard Guy?) told me about the lack of response from the women he had messaged while on the OKC. He thought it was rude. I am guilty of the failing to respond. He asked why.  First, it seems that women receive many more emails than men. When I was first on both sites, there was no way to keep up with the messages.  Second….some men do not take polite rejection well, and the online format allows them to FLAME back. I do not like being berated by strangers because I don’t want to meet them. The flamers were often people who in no way fit my listed preferences, yet… in sometimes very repulsive ways…they expressed their ire that I wouldn’t meet them. I don’t need that, so it is much easier to ignore the messages than respond with a nice no thank you.

Last night’s activity was a Match Mixer… ooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeee… That’s a story, but I don’t have time to tell it tonight because I have a 5 a.m. fishing date in the morning. REAL fish. I’m thinking of selecting one of the photos of me with one of my catch as a profile photo. Would that get the guys or what?  😉



Red Zone

SaneMan11’s photo showed a blue-eyed, sandy- haired guy who sported a tan. He said he was into fitness, and his profile stated that in the past,he had taught. We chatted about teaching and career changes for the two weeks before we met at the usual: Starbucks.

When I walked in, he was sitting facing the entry. He smiled showing even, white teeth in a tanned face. He looked like his photos: a good-looking man. Politely, he stood and reached to shake my hand proving himself to be a bit shorter than the 5’11” he stated on his profile.

I’ve come to the conclusion that I can take an inch or two off most guys’ stated heights, which means I have to increase my height limits. I find short men usually fit the stereotype and sport a medium to large Napoleon complex…something I can live without.

Back to the good-looker…  After ordering coffee for him and tea for me, we sat and chatted…sort of. He was excited to tell me all about his job, which has something to do with outsourced HR. He saw it as helping people, and he became almost animated discussing the boring intricacies of doing HR for large companies who no longer want to maintain separate HR departments. Who knew?

For some reason our conversation strayed into immigration. I’m all for it immigration if done legally; I’m an immigrant after all. However, SaneMan11 supports a more liberal side of the issue than I do. As soon as I disagreed with his viewpoint, he caved to mine…agreeing that we should perhaps enforce our immigration laws. Do I think I converted SaneMan11 to my side of the argument? No. His quick capitulation just proved he didn’t like even the mildest bit of contention. I don’ like the idea of being able to bulldoze over another’s ideas so easily. I wondered how that worked for him on the job. Surely he had to mediate differing views.

He has cats, and I am allergic. He immediately stated that he would replace them with a dog for the right person. I asked what he would do with his displaced cats, and he assured me he would find them a good home. He said that with the exception of his son, he was not into anything enough that he couldn’t change it for a good woman. He leaned toward me and smiled intensely. I froze…and wanted to say…I’m not that good a woman.

He continued to chat as he leaned across the table, and then he reached for and took my hand; I removed it. He mentioned that regular manicures and pedicures helped eliminate calluses from working out and running. As he told me this, I eye-balled his manicure… nicely done…buffed even, which means they were far better than my trimmed, unpolished nails, and my hands definitely have a row of tough calluses across my palms from years of weightlifting. His fitted, knit shirt with two tiny, decorative pockets on either side of his chest, and longish styled hair, reminded me of my friend John, whose former girlfriend “styled” him a few years ago. John’s change from manly man to metrosexual occurred over a summer, and his look was so convincing that one of my gay friends thought I was trying to set him up when we all hung out one night. That’s the vibe I was getting… not gay, but he definitely projected a lot of feminine energy. I finished my tea and said it was time to go. SaneMan 11 walked me to my car, shook hands, and we parted ways.

SaneMan11 came across as a nice guy with decent intelligence; however, he lacked a crucial manliness that I find compelling. Another nice guy, but….


Not Just No, but HELLLLLL NO!

Red Zone

I should be finishing a chapter for the textbook I’m coauthoring with Steel Blue, but noooooo I can’t focus on that. Instead, I feel I must write up an OKCupid message that I received, but did not open.

It was from a white girl (her skin and small size really didn’t seem to indicate woman) and her husband who was black. The photo they used was small on my phone, and while not at all interested in couples, mixed-race or otherwise, I couldn’t figure out what their photo was showing. The OKCupid app doesn’t allow enlarging the photos to make them more clear unless one opens the message. Opening the message would show the couple that I had read what they sent and might encourage them to send more. I didn’t want that, but curiosity… reared it’s ugly head again. What the heck was going on in that photo, I wondered.

I opened OKC on my computer, and made the screen bigger to decipher the photo. I will NOT post a screen shot. The girl was kneeling on a bed with her arm extended palm up, but curled into a light fist. Running alongside her very white arm was a long dark brown penis about as wide as her arm and attached to the photographer who was shooting from above. AAAARGHHH!  My EYES! That thing ran the length of her arm from hand to almost elbow. Seriously?!?!?!

WTF: First, how can that be a profile photo? Aren’t they supposed to be screened for nudity?

WTF: Second, my profile makes me out to be a level-headed professional who likes working out and music. What the HELL makes me look like a taker in that scenario?

WTF: Finally, dear God, if someone, note, an individual, most definitely NOT a couple, pulled out a what…almost 1-foot penis with a girth equal to my lower arm… I’d not very politely tell him to just put his pants back on. No way! No how!

One reason the photo remains as their profile shot could be because the picture is difficult at first to understand. More than likely people respond as I did: AAAAAAAAAACK!!!!!! DELETE! BLOCK!!!! We expunge so quickly, we simply forget to report the nudity.

Sing it with me: I should be working, Yeah.

Here’s the tune:

What’s his name again? What’s his name again?

Red Zone

Suffice it to say I had a busy week last week. I decided to push the envelope a bit and see if I could line up a week’s worth of dates in a day from Match and OKCupid.

Calm down… I had no grading or other pressing obligations other than working out, and face it, with the exception of the evening dinner date because the guy was coming from Williamsburg, most are quick half hour or so meet and greets. I brought my computer and camped out at Starbucks. However, I am ridiculously unaware of time, so for each, I set an alarm. I told each of them I had an appointment, and so I’d need to finish up when my alarm went off. I had a problem getting rid of only one in a timely manner. I can usually run people off by telling them about this blog. 😀 One guy, however, found that fascinating. The alarm went off, and he still sat there making conversation as I packed up my computer. I actually had to stand and leave in order to get him moving. A few minutes in the car, and I was right back inside.

Here’s the catch of that day:

  1. Dave 9:30 at Starbucks
  2. Jason 10:30 at Starbucks
  3. David 11:30 at California Pizza Kitchen. It’s close by. I packed up my computer and moved a few blocks.
  4. Mark back to Starbucks at 2:30
  5. Matt Starbucks (I am glad the shift has changed twice today. I remained pretty incognito.) at 3:30.
  6. David Starbucks at 4:30. (Yes… I know this is the second wave of Daves; actually it’s the third… two of the guys I’ve had repeat dates with are Daves… and they are delightful, so I am not eliminating Daves from the dating pool at this time.)
  7. Will was coming from Williamsburg, so I agreed to meet him at Azar’s in Ghent for dinner. (Date 77, by the way…and no, I haven’t been keeping up with writing about EVERY date).

I arrived right on time, but Will had texted that he was already at Azar’s. I walked in, and a quick glance around the room showed no single person seated. I looked to the right to see a dark haired man looking at the pastries in the store attached to the restaurant. I walked toward him. He turned; yep Will. He’s about 5’ 9” has dark, closely cropped hair, beard, and mustache. He looked very fit in a nice button-down blue shirt and medium grey trousers. He’s the first date I’ve met who wore a tie, as well as a name tag, which dangled on a chain around his neck. The tag reminded me he was doing something in the medical field. He smiled and showed rows of happy lines around his eyes. So far… two thumbs up.

“Hi Mark,” I said.

“Will,” he responded with a smile and a two-handed handshake. I was forgiven my faux pas, and he waved away my spoken apology.

I know Azar’s menu so well that I also know the potential specials. I checked to see if my favorite, mansaaf was available. It wasn’t, so I defaulted to beef shwarma. Will chose the same.

“Matt. You’re supposed to try something different, so we can check out each other’s dishes.”

“Will,” he still smiled amicably.

GAH!!!!! OK this might be the reason one shouldn’t date 7 people in one day. I wondered why I hadn’t called him Dave, but I didn’t do my wonderings aloud.

Conversation went smoothly for an hour or so. I simply didn’t say his name. 😀

He’s studying to be a Physician’s Assistant, and his hours are grueling. As former military, though, he’s somewhat used to it. Anyone he dates would need to be flexible because he can only afford a few nights a week, and during exams or other heavily weighted components of the program, even one date might be too much. I am well aware of time crunches, and this guy’s schedule seemed worse than mine.

He leaned back in his chair and looked carefully at me with a small considering smile. “This is where most women run off?” It wasn’t a statement. He was asking me a question: How did I feel about his lack of time?

I am not looking two jump into anything, and he’s intelligent, both socially and academically, nice, and has many of the other traits I like, so I responded.

“I’m pretty busy too. Your schedule doesn’t scare me off.”

We finished our meal, and he offered to continue at one of the local bars. It was a beautiful evening. I countered instead.

“Let’s sit over by the Dinette at one of the tables. They’ve been closed for hours.” He agreed.

We chatted comfortably for an hour. This definitely was the best date of the day, and not because of length. I knew within the first few minutes of each of the others, that there would be no second date. Either they hadn’t looked like their photos, they were too out of shape, their conversations were dull, or there was no … je ne sais quoi.

This one had a little je ne sais quoi.

At the end of the evening, he walked me to my car.

“Want to get the kiss test out of the way?” He grinned widely as he said it.

Bemused, I agreed. Most guys are far more subtle about trying for the first kiss. They don’t ask; instead, they try to use proximity to their advantage. They also don’t admit it is indeed a test…for both parties.

He leaned in for the kiss… just before his lips hit mine, he whispered. “What’s my name?”


He laughed. “You had to think about it.”

He passed the kiss test. I guess I did too. He texted me before I arrived home asking to meet again.

side note: I love this song, and enjoy seeing them from all those years ago. 😀 fun video.

Nerd Alert

Red Zone

Last night I met friends at the local Wing King, not for wings but for live music. Wasted Presley, my current favorite go to band, was playing there, and I had convinced a few people to meet me.

I arrived early; Wing King is after all, almost in my neighborhood. It’s a bit of a local dive bar, but the take-out area, which is right next to the bar,  has a parade of people coming through. I’ve been in enough with neighbors to know I would be fine sitting at the bar by myself until the others arrived.

Two young Navy dudes arrived before any of my group. The one nearest me was a cute blonde who obviously hit the weights a bit. His red Millennium Falcon t-shirt stretched across a chest that gave proof to my observation. I gently chided him for representing his nerd side so well. His red-headed, bespectacled buddy laughed along. The red-head bore a striking resemblance to one of my cousins who lives in Virginia Beach. I told him so.

As both guys were about my son’s age, I mentioned my son’s fully built Lego Millennium Falcon, which is housed safely in my attic. Chris, the blonde, said he’d sold his Legos years ago, and the red-head mentioned a friend who at 31 ticked his wife off regularly by playing with Legos, which were spread all over one room.  These two didn’t PLAY with Legos. They were collectors, who built and preserved Lego sets… but only sometimes. I laughed and said I would be saving the Legos for the grandchildren. At 23, my son will soon be like these two young men, serving the Navy somewhere. We continued our chatting until Kara and Bo arrived, when I went to the bathroom.

As I returned to the bar, I walked past a table of 4 men. The one facing me, a square-jawed, short-haired, thirty-something Navy dude, looked up. Guess what he wore? A grey Darth Vader shirt. Hee hee. I stopped to tease him about it and mention the similar shirt worn by the young man at the bar. A strong Slavic accent indicated I might be wrong about my Navy guess.

A while later, the 4 guys were preparing to leave. After one diet Coke, and a few sips of wine, I wasn’t tipsy, but I liked the humor of the two guy’s shirts, and I have no problem approaching people. I waved Darth Vader lover over, asked Chris to turn around, showed him the similar Millennium Falcon shirt, and begged a photo for my blog.  Darth Vader lover is from the Ukraine, but here, not with NATO, as I second-guessed, but in our US Navy.

Here’s the photo op. 😉 Thanks guys.

 nerd alert

I didn’t get a shot of Wasted Presley’s drummer who was also wearing a space-related t-shirt. 😉 Pizza and cats in space… but similar, at least according to Navy-dude Chris.


As usual MJ showed up late. That man is frazzling sometimes, but he compensated by teaching me how to PIN and driving me to drop my car off at the repair shop today. Tradeoffs…

English Teacher Dating: I May be Doing this Wrong

Red Zone

About 6 months ago, I had one of the oddest dates ever. I helped a guy format his graduate paper in APA format, and I checked his citations. He seemed nice, and I was on a grading lull, as my second job hadn’t sent me any classes in a while. Each of my degrees had required APA format, and I regularly grade and teach using APA, so my expertise would speed a process that can be time consuming. He offered dinner in exchange.

We sat at Starbucks, and I quickly ran through his paper for grammar and citations. We chatted easily, and I looked forward to the dinner… until he texted me more and more frequently each day. By the day of the date, I didn’t want to go. I forced myself to do so. Over dinner, he made verbal plans for our future dates, meeting each other’s families, and potential vacations…all while I suggested he was being presumptuous. LAST date.

Last week EDT471 offered to cook me dinner if I checked the research paper he and his roommate had due in their Master’s class. The paper was a collaboration between a 5 member group. I asked for the paper early, so I could read it first for content. Circumstances did not allow the pre-reading, so I had to read it in front of the two of them.

I read while, EDT471 made dinner. He knows his way around a kitchen. His almost from scratch jambalaya had just the right amount of spice, and he fixed frutto del bosco with frozen yogurt instead of ice cream, as the dessert. At my seat at the table, he also placed a full-sized, which are much more fun than the fun-sized, Toblerone bar. Yummy! Clearly, he knows one of my weaknesses. I was too full to eat it after dinner, and really, an entire Toblerone is excessive anyway. EDT471 admonished his roommate to eat the Ghirardelli chocolate bought expressly for him.

After dinner, I tackled the 20-page, group authored paper. The guys had much explaining to do as I moved through the work. I suggested transitions and deletions of several lengthy quotations. I was pretty fried when I finished, so EDT471 suggested a walk to clear our heads before I tackled the drive home. During the walk, I extracted a night out dancing for the extra work the paper had required. 😉 I am good at bargaining.

It was a typical warm Virginia evening, the company was particularly pleasant, and our walk ended up taking much longer than anticipated. Neither of us were ready to give up the company of the other, so when we arrived back at his place, EDT471 and I were pleased to find no sign of his roommate. We lazed on the sofa, and EDT471 asked if I wanted anything. I requested a Coke Zero and a piece of the Toblerone bar… He couldn’t find it! After looking several places, and muttering that he usually hid chocolate well above his short roommate’s reach, he popped the lid on the trashcan. Sure enough, the distinctive triangular shaped, yellow, Toblerone box and the entire foil wrapping from the bar were in the trash! I thought EDT471 had been joking about the level to which his roommate would go for chocolate… but no… he was not exaggerating at all.

Owed to me EDT471: one Toblerone bar and one evening dancing. I am greatly looking forward to the dancing sans chocolate and roommate.