Dating Games (Part I)

My friend, Greta, from Dating Without a Net, and I are playing a dating game.  We rationalized that since we keep picking the wrong men for ourselves, we will pick dates for each other via Plenty of Fish.  Figuring that this plan cannot be any worse than the system we currently employ, we provided each other with our zip codes (I live in NJ; Greta lives in TN), dating radius, a few non-negotiable attributes and gave each other free reign.  


The rules were to pick 3 men from our respective geographic locations who fall within the set criteria (who we haven't dated), email, secure a date with at least one and, of course, blog about it.   Greta and I set to work yesterday, but the first task of finding potential dates was more difficult than originally anticipated.  


While I thought that I had a tough time navigating through the hoards of wanna-be-guidos, the dating pool near Greta posed its own challenges.  In her neck of the (back) woods, I found most of the men to be either in the public service or transportation industry (read: cops/security guards and truck drivers) so it was a good thing that education wasn't a deal breaker for Greta (note: education wasn't a criterion of mine either--we tried to make the pool as large as possible).  I found may of the men in her tri-state area of Tennessee, Mississippi and Arkansas to be redneck hillbillies that even this country-lovin' girl wouldn't let buy me a beer um....unimpressive.  


Up here in NJ, I deal with men who swathe themselves in the Italian flag, rock fake tans and faux hawks but these men are no match for Greta's potential suitors.  Between the mullets, missing teeth and hunting prize pictures (I stopped counting after 5 dead animals and one hog-tied pig), I can see why she's having trouble picking the right men.  There were a few attractive men, but they either hadn't been online in months or Greta had already dated them.  Our exchanges went a little something like this:


Me: Here you go--let me know if you've blocked or already talked to them: Johnny, SomeDude, OtherDude.
Greta: I emailed Johnny a while back, wanna switch him out for another?  Here are yours: HotDude, BeachDude, SarcasticDude.
Me: I've already met and um, hung out, with HotDude.  We're good friends.
Greta: No way!  The foot fetish guy?  I thought he was the hottest and totally my type.. you go girl!  I'll pick an alternate for you.
Me: No, the guy with the tiny dog.  Don't know if I told you about him.  He drives that hot truck and is super sweet.  No foot fetish.  Ok, sub BadCop for Johnny---if you haven't already talked to him.
Greta: Good one but BadCop guy hasn't been online since October! #notthatmanyfisharoundhere  Ok, sub this LawyerDude for the HotDude.
Me: Ugh, LawyerDude is "JD" the one who got drunk, said he wanted to swing and tried to get me naked!    I blogged about it here.
Greta: Omg, you have dated every guy in NJ already either that or we totally have the same taste, Let me try one more time...
Me: Ok, so what about Sean? Aside from the weird dog pic, he's pretty cute.  Hamm looks promising too, although I see a radio on his lapel (are you done with dating cops?)
Greta: Sean is the cop I went out with on Friday!!  lol  Ok, last try, have you dated NJman?
Me:   NJman is kind of old but we're running out of options.  Is Sean the cop whose partner got shot while you were on your date?!   What about Tim?  Might be a freak--not a good face pic but his tattoos are kind of sexy.  Or what about Frank?  He kind of looks like a meth head but he has a Masters Degree so it might just be the highlights in his hair that are throwing me off.  OMG we both need to move! 


After way too much time surfing Plenty of Fish, Greta and I have our dates nominated.  I emailed my 3 potentials--BeachDude, SarcasticDude and NJman--and now we wait.  

Deal Breakers

I had a great second date with BR last night (the man I went out with on Friday who looks like a Banana Republic ad).  Following up to my post over the weekend, it turns out that I didn't scare my him off with everything included on my "What Not to Say on a First Date" list--yay!  We went out for dinner last night, which appears to be a step up, as we had met for drinks on Friday.  BR got major bonus points for being respectful (i.e. keeping my clothes on) and not looking like a douche in a lavender shirt.  I like a man who isn't afraid to rock girly colors.

With the first date out of the way and some hour long phone conversations under our belt, we talked a bit about some "meatier" things last night.  Naturally, this had me on high alert for potential deal breakers.  I've spent the past several months honing my "douche radar" and prefer to determine the presence of a deal breaker as soon as possible.  Obviously some things can't be determined right away, but I'll be damned if I don't try to find them out!

DEAL BREAKERS

1. Addictions: This is a no brainer for me.  Alcohol, drug, porn, sex and gambling addicts need not apply...unless you make a shit ton of money gambling...or are really good at sex ;) 
2. Bad Family Relationships: I will never date anyone who has been "disowned" by their mother, again.  Good family relationships are indicative that you're not a huge asshole in general...unless you have a family of assholes, that is.  Treating your family with respect is important.  It's a glaring red flag to scream to a parent, "I wish you had died instead of Dad!" (true story, folks!)
3. Cheaters: Because it's not cool to share STDs. Note: I do not have any STDs.
4. Not wanting children: This is tricky one.  At a certain age this question turns from being construed from a curious inquisitive nature to a frantic, "Will-you-have-my-babies-so-that-this-stupid-biological-clock-in-my-head-will-stop-ticking?!  These ovaries aren't getting any younger, damnit!"  I'm not looking to pop out a litter anytime soon, but if I'm ever going to justify a boob job, I'm going to need some ankle biters to suck these tots dry first.  Not to mention, I love kids.
5. Good Morning Texts: No good morning texts until we're in a relationship.  Seriously, you have nothing better to do but text message me before I've even gone to the bathroom?!
6. Dick Pics: You might enjoy exchanging longing glances at your one-eyed monster, but it's just freaking me out. 
7. Bad Mouthing your Ex:  An occasional gripe is okay, but calling her "that pig-faced pirate hooker" ain't gonna fly with me.
8. Wives:  Call me when your divorce is final and you've been to therapy.  A little role play where you're the married boss and I'm a dictating secretary is a different story altogether ;)
9. Lack of Education: I'm a lawyer, not a free lunch. There's nothing sexier than a man who doesn't have to ask for an allowance...and knows how to spell. 
10. Super Freaky Sex Stuff: I'm open minded but draw the line at bodily functions, animals, group sex and pain (aardvark! aardvaaaarrrrrk!)

What are your deal breakers?

Mr. Big and the Foot Slut

Recently my life has mirrored way too many Sexy and the City episodes than I care to admit.  I met a man several months ago who I will call Mr. Big.  He is a handsome millionaire in his 40's.  He drives a mortgage-worthy car, drinks 18 year old scotch, winks at me and calls me kid.  No joke, aside from having a driver (he values his privacy too much, yes I asked), he is Mr. Big in the flesh.  This man also happens to have a foot fetish.

Mr. Big and I chatted online before meeting and exchanged pictures, where he commented on my beautiful feet.  Why I sent a man a picture that included my feet is beyond me but something to keep in mind for determining foot fetishes in the future.  Now, if only I can find one with me peeing to rule out the golden shower fanatics. 

When we finally met in person, he was very sweet.  I was keenly aware of him eyeing my feet in my black pumps but let down my guard after a glass of wine and good conversation.  I made the mistake of putting my feet up on his side of the booth and bam!  I spent the rest of lunch attempting to put my shoe back on while he stared hungrily at me and massaged my feet.  I have to admit, the man gives a killer foot rub!

As our friendship progressed, I gathered more information about his fetish and occasionally threw him a bone by sending him some post-pedicure pics.  He liked my feet, but not all feet.  He found them sexy even though I refer to my mangled phalanges as "retartoes".  He prefers dark polish and my signature color, Wicked, is right on the mark.  Threats to come over with stinky feet after working out only fueled his desire and made him admit that he thinks dirty thoughts about my feet.

Mr. Big and I quickly realized that we were better suited for friendship than anything else and our conversations have dwindled to an occasional check in.  He's been going through a tough time personally and so I sent him a nice birthday gift last month.  Happy Birthday, Mr. Big.  I'm a foot slut.

What Not to Say on a First Date

I had a great first date last night.  I went out for drinks with a cute guy in his early 40's.  We met online and had been emailing back and forth for about a month.  It was the kind of witty banter emails that make you wonder if you're going to have the same connection in person.  Still, even if you do have a personal connection, what happens if the person looks nothing like their pictures.  It's all fun and games until someone is 100 pounds or 5 inches off on their body description.

Getting ready for the date, I tried not to psych myself out but couldn't help getting ridiculously nervous while driving to the restaurant.  However I was in luck when I arrived and found my 5'10" date to actually be standing taller than me (in heels, no less), really cute and decked out like a Banana Republic model.

You'd think I'd be golden once the stars had aligned and delivered the exact replica of what I had envisioned from our emails.  It was a really fun date filled with laughter, a couple drinks, a good night kiss and positive follow up text from him...but looking back at it this morning I wonder if I will ever hear from him again.  Why?  Because for some reason I have become "first date stupid" and manage to blow them all (no, not literally blow them you perv!).  

To keep my dumb mouth shut and my head on straight, I have complied a list of things not to talk about on first dates, EVER.  This reminds me of the sorority rush rule where the 3 B's were off limits for conversation: Booze, Boys and Bank Accounts (yes, it was a Jewish sorority).  I may or may not have talked about some of all of these things last night.  ::hands head in shame::  But I still got a goodnight kiss without him trying to undress me--so ha!

THINGS NOT TO TALK ABOUT ON A FIRST DATE

1. You're holding to Patti Stenger's two drink maximum: This implies not only that you're a drunk slut but that you have a plenty of stupid things to say if you do, in fact, get drunk.  Crazy points if you mention the Millionaire Matchmaker herself.
2. You're any sort of "masochist": Even if you're using it to describe something good, "I'm an academic masochist" it comes off sounding like you're a freak.  There are a bajillion other words in the English language to describe yourself as "hard working". 
3. Communication with your exes: Whether you're best friends or he "wants to spit on your grave" this is information that does not need to be disclosed.
4. Therapy: Self-explanatory.  
5. Interwebz Friends: This is especially true if you're dating men over 35, unless they're part of some hobby forum of their own that somehow makes The Nest seem normal.  
6. Write a dating blog: This is all kinds of badness.  Just don't tell them.  
7. Have encountered a lot of sexual freaks: Way to make the freak across from you feel bad about themselves.  Hey, you never know what you might be in to (wink, wink!)
8. Made a book of nudie pics for your ex-husband: Actually this one has been well received but talk of nudie pics is probably better left until future dates.
9. You want to get a dog that can fit into your purse: Regardless of whether you will actually put said pooch in your purse, if you mention you want a tiny canine companion, you will be pigeon-holed into a crazy dog-in-purse lady.  Better than a crazy cat lady, but still bad.
10. You want to open a dog bakery one day: Men do not understand this.  They either think you're nuts or that you want to chop up puppies and bake them into pies.

Anything else I should add to the list?

Cease and Desist

I recently went out with a lawyer who I met on Plenty of Fish. I will call him JD.  I had vowed never to date another lawyer after my divorce, as I learned first hand that two lawyers often do not make good partners.  However this man was cute, lived nearby and looked good on paper.  Funny, I think I've said that about someone before...


JD took me to a nice restaurant in town where we got a table on the bar side of the restaurant.  People watching is always a good fallback on awkward first date conversation so I was all for it.  He was cuter  in person than his pictures suggested...shorter too, but come on, that was a given.  We had a lovely conversation over wine, more wine, calamari and then some 11% Mad Elf Ale that I decided was a good idea...it wasn't.

Halfway through our calamari (and our strong beer) the bar area clears out and JD hops over to my side of the booth to talk.  I realize he is drunk and is starting to look a little like the Mad Elf on our beer bottle.  He starts telling me that me that he's a very sexual person.  Fine, sure, so am I.  He explained that it led to the demise of his marriage (I can appreciate that), he and his wife had different sexual appetites (okay), she cheated on him (yeah, that sucks), yadda yadda yadda, and that he was interested in "swinging." Um, what?!

Around that time he started kissing me and playing with my belt.  I gently repositioned his hand and carried on with the conversation.  Although he had skeeved me out, part of me was curious...and no, not the part you think.  I asked him a few questions: Had he ever been to a swingers club? How did he know about this? Have I been living under a rock and is this what single people do now?  The answer was no, he'd never been--it was just a fantasy he had.


This was apparently the green light to put his full effort into undressing me.  I quickly shot him down and he got offended.  This was the point when drunk JD attempted to rationalize with me, "Don't you just want to touch it?  Just touch the base."  Yes, I'm serious.  To this day I have no idea if he meant the metaphorical baseball bases of high school hanky panky or the base of his penis.  Either way, I booked it out of there.  I realized that no matter how curious you are, there are certain topics and certain beverages that are just not appropriate for a first date.

Tiger Man

I met a man online who I will call CJ. He was 41, wore tight jeans and cowboy boots (yummy) and had a sexy smoky voice that made me want to do bad things to him. Divorced for almost a year, CJ seemed like the perfect no drama type of relationship that I could use at the moment. It didn't hurt that on our first date we met for drinks and then continued the night at a country western bar (yeehaw!). It really didn't hurt that the night ended with a kiss and a date for the next night.

In the beginning it was all fun and games--literally. We went to a shooting range, watched the Giants in the playoffs, drank beer and ate greasy bar food. We had amazing chemistry that was the icing hiding the red flag cake. He was a witty intellectual who got my sense of humor and but then things got a little weird.

CJ had some friends of the stuffed variety. The first time he picked me up he apologized for being late. He blamed Bob, the teddy bear belted into the middle back seat, for giving him wrong directions. I introduced myself to Bob (what else was I supposed to do?) and asked why he had a seat belt on. Note: Teddy bears are people too and must wear seat belts in cars. I didn't want him flying around back there, did I?!

Albeit slightly strange, I brushed the Bob episode off as endearing and something that the overall sexiness of CJ could overshadow. Then I met Rajah, the stuffed tiger who guards his twin-sized bed, and two other furry friends whose authentic ethnic names (an African name for the lion and another Indian name for Tiger #2) now escape me. He made them each growl for me. A libido killer that even tight jeans and cowboy boots could not overcome.

[via]

There were other red flags that popped up while dating CJ. Breaking his back as a result of a drunken fall down stairs at 2pm and having a house so sparsely furnished that the only place to sit was either on a toilet or on his twin sized bed are notable examples. The morning before I ended the short courtship, things were tense. I was pissed at his overall douchebaggery. Men: For the record, no matter how self depreciating a woman's humor is, it's not funny to say to her, "No wonder your XH ::insert some deplorable action here::"

In an effort to lighten the mood he sent me a picture message of his stuffed friends. They were lined up on his bed with a caption that read: "Hey there, from us!" It was so priceless that I texted him today, solely as a means of recovering that picture from our message history. I doubt I'll ever see that picture again though--Grrr!