There’s No Second Date, Is There?

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I actually haven’t been the most flawless dater known to mankind.

I know. Shocking!

I have this bad habit of talking before I’ve completely finished chewing my food. It’s not like I’m being a disgusting animal that’s talking with a whole bite in my mouth, it’s just sometimes I get so excited to tell a story I’ll start before I’m able to get my food all the way down. 9 times out of 10 it’s not even noticeable, it just looks like I’m making a hard and fast swallow. I’d hardly call it un-lady like, but I’m sure Queen Elizabeth would not approve.

So that brings me to a date I was on a while back. My date and I were talking and making jokes and everything seemed to be going really well. At one point he had made a particularly funny comment that had caught me a little off guard. I tried to choke back my food before laughing, but I couldn’t get it down quick enough and there it was, food spewing right out of my mouth. It definitely wasn’t the most attractive thing I’ve ever done and as shocking as this may be, not only was that our first date, but it also happened to be our last.

Regrettably, this has happened more times then I’d like to admit, but every other guy has been able to laugh it off and make a joke out of it. One time it was even Sushi, which is pretty disgusting, and that didn’t seem to ruin the date. Any guy that can’t get over a little food spit because I’m laughing at his joke, I have one thing to say to that: I don’t need that kind of judgmental negativity in my life.

Then there was the time I left a guy on the curb waiting for a cab.

It was a long night and we all know how alcohol can cloud anybody’s judgment. So the next morning when I woke up with a pounding headache and a mouth dryer than the Mohave Desert I knew there was only one cure: water, Advil, greasy breakfast food, more water, and a Bloody Mary. I’m not sure who taught me this, probably my eldest brother (he’s like the Yoda of drinking), but it’s a basic cure to any hangover. You can thank me later.

Anyway, the only problem was my friends wanted to go to breakfast and this guy needed to get back to his friends. You see, I was in the quite the predicament. After some thought though, I realized the only thing that made sense was to have him call a cab and wait out by the curb while I went to breakfast. I probably should have offered to take him back to his friends, as that would have been the lady-like and kind thing to do, but we were both equally uninterested in each other so I’m sure he really didn’t mind.

Then of course, there was the time I called the guy the wrong name on our first date. It was an honest mistake. I’d been on two dates with two different guys in the same day. I just overbooked myself and keeping their names straight was harder than doing the ABC’s backwards while intoxicated. Fortunately though, my little slip up happened while he was dropping me off at the end of the date. It’s safe to say I never heard from him again. Not even a “thanks for a great time” text afterward.

In the past, I’ve done some serious ranting about how much I hate when guys lead girls on, but I too am guilty of this one. Remember the cat guy? Yeah, I knew from the start I didn’t really like him, but I felt out the situation because I was broke and hungry. The older I get the worse I feel about this one, he really was a nice guy. He just had shady cats and red hair, which made him the perfect candidate for not me. I’m pretty positive Karma has already come back and bit me on the ass for this one though, so all is well that ends well.

Then of course, there’s the infamous act of going back to an ex. EVERYBODY is guilty of this one and I’ll be the first one to say it’s a serious dating faux paus. We always say been there done that, but for some reason we can’t resist the charm of our high school sweetheart at our hometown bar on the night before Thanksgiving. Why? What’s up with that? We usually run into them once or twice after high school. Unfortunately mine was twice and both times I was grasping at strings that weren’t there. In my defense we were both at really weird times in our lives.

The lesson here is, it never ends well so just don’t do it. Don’t go back. Keep running towards the light. Don’t ruin your forward progress. Remember “Been there, done that” say it with me now BEEN THERE DONE THAT.

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And finally, there have been times that I have gone out with guys and known from the get-go that it’s not going to end well and that, despite how good of a date they think it is, there will not be a second date. I use to (key word being USE to) take full advantage of these dates. I’d order 3 too many beers and instead of being a lady and getting a salad I’d get an appetizer and a huge entrée. I knew that they were paying so I wanted to ensure that I had plenty of leftovers for lunch and dinner for the next day. Those are not my finer moments nor were they my skinniest moments either.

I’m still going to stand by the fact that 99.9% of the guys that I had brief encounters with were total douche nozzles, BUT I can’t act like I’ve been perfect. I’ve had my fair share of questionable moments. The good news is, I’ve learned something from them all and it’s lead me to where I am today.

So don’t be afraid to make mistakes while dating. That’s what makes it so fun. Don’t try to be so polished. It’s the messy, ridiculous, completely off plan dates that usually end up being the forever thing!

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Top Seven Realites of Modern Dating That Everyone Hates

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Recently I took a poll on what people hate most about dating in today’s world and the answers received were nothing shocking. Everything I read made me laugh, because I too have been there and experienced each and every one of these feelings.

  1. He’s always with his ex

– So, maybe he’s not physically with his ex and maybe they don’t even talk anymore, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t still Facebook/Twitter/Instagram friends. Even though he says he’s “over her” and you believe him, we all know he’s still looking at her profile just to see whose doing better. Hell, I know I still social media stalk the hell out of my ex’s, not because I’m interested but just to prove that I’ve got more going for me then they do.

  1. He’s Always on his phone

– Whether he’s talking to his mom, or his buddy, or he’s on his work phone, gone are the days where you get to spend actual quality time together. Time where there were no interruptions. Even though it may be something small like a simple text message from a co-worker it’s still beyond irritating when you’re laying on the couch watching a movie and he gets all squirmy while he tries to text back and cuddle you at the same time. 2 hours, that’s all we’re asking for here. 2 hours!

  1. You can never really get away from him

– He’s always there. Your friend posts an embarrassing picture of you on Instagram and BOOM! You’re phone starts blowing up because you’re with 13 different guys. Obviously he didn’t notice the acne and lack of boobs or the caption that reads “#tbt” or “#Circa2000”

    1. You actually have to online date

– Online dating is no longer a tool that you use for convenience. You are actually forced to online date. The good ole days of meeting someone randomly out in public are no more and any guy you’d meet in bar, there is a 99.7% chance you do NOT want to take him home to meet the family. Just beware of the ones who don’t disclose important stuff on their profile. If they fail to mention their age or degree level, they’re probably going to fail to tell you they have an STD until after you sleep together. SCARY!

  1. You come off so needy

– You eventually find yourself soliciting others for a date for events like your friend’s wedding or even for Thanksgiving. We don’t all fall in love with our high school sweet hearts anymore and it’s rare that we find love in our 4 year drunken stupor that some call college. When we start to realize everyone around us is getting married or moving in with their significant other, we start begging people to accompany us as our dates so we can avoid the pity stares and the infamous “He’s out there somewhere” comment.

  1. People keep asking “when is it your turn?”

– Old people always think it’s appropriate to ask this question, but it’s not. Just Stop. Stop looking at me with your worried expression asking me when I’m going to get married or have babies. I’ll be fine. I’ve now started looking at people with the same expression saying “Oh, don’t you remember? I got married last spring. Are you feeling okay?”

  1. Dating is so embarrassing

– Cue Seinfeld – The Big Salad Episode:

Elaine: Maybe I should just get married.

Jerry: Dating is really starting to get embarrassing isn’t it?

Elaine: I know. You know, whenever I’m on a date I feel people can tell.

Jerry: People on dates shouldn’t even be allowed out in public.

Elaine: You can say that again.

Jerry: It’s embarrassing for them. It’s painful for us to watch. I’m going out with someone later; I’m not even taking her out of the house.

Elaine: Good for you.

Jerry: I don’t need a bunch of people staring at us.

Elaine: Right on baby.

That basically sums it all up.

WARNING: The Ghouls and Goblins are out tonight and horny as can be, don’t end up drinking until you can’t see, because you might end up with HERPES! Have a SAFE Halloween!

*Don’t forget if you are interested in telling your HORRIFYING dating story or if you have an idea for a poll that you think would provide some interesting answers, send them to acbetz6@gmail.com or like us on Facebook at https://m.facebook.com/goodfoodbadcompany and direct message them.

Tinder Is The New Craigslist

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Despite our best efforts, the first date with anyone can usually be pretty horrendous. The key is keeping an open mind. 99.9% of the dates I speak of are first dates and they are usually pretty horrible, but about 75% of the first dates weren’t total deal breakers. There is nothing better than an absolutely hilarious story to tell on your wedding day about the first time you met. For instance my sister and her husband have a pretty hilarious first date story. I’ll tell you that at a later date, but let’s just say they went to the mall food court. Sometimes a bad first date is the perfect way to start off a great relationship.

I’ll be the first to admit that I hate going on first dates. It doesn’t matter how many times I do it, every time is just as dreadful as the last. First dates can be rather mundane and boring. If you get in the habit of continuously going on first dates the conversation becomes rather, blah. There is really no other way to describe it. I have told far too many people that I’m the youngest of four and before I even finish my sentence I can tell you exactly what they are going to say, “So you’re the baby?” Yes, you dumb shit. The youngest of four does in fact imply that I’m the baby. Good job on putting two and two together.” I don’t mean to get so hostile, but I just get so sick and tired of answering the same questions over and over and over again. I feel like I’m stuck in bad episode of The Flying Nun. Sweet Jesus I don’t know if you’ve ever seen that show, but it is by far one of the worst T.V. shows on Antenna TV. Take my advice on this one, don’t watch it.

We’ve all heard of the fabulous and wonderful Tinder and unfortunately I’ve gone on more first dates with guys from there than I’m comfortable admitting. You never really know what you’re going to get with Tinder and so far it’s been a major disappointment, but I suppose that’s of really no surprise. After all it’s a “dating” app based on superficiality.

Tinder is exactly where I happened to meet this next guy.

First of all I feel that I need to preface this by saying the date was prolonged several days. Not because I was sick or he was sick, but simply because apparently he had “poor time management” those are his exact words, not mine. He had originally said we would go out on a date on a Sunday. He texted me maybe once a few days prior and then Sunday came and Sunday went and I never heard a word. At this point I thought “no hard feelings.” Nothing gained and nothing lost, he just wasn’t interested and that was fine because I myself wasn’t so sure I was interested either.

Sunday had passed and by Monday afternoon I had received a text message from him asking if I’d like to go out on maybe Tuesday. I agreed, because at this point in my life I don’t turn down dates. Not because I need more writing material, I actually don’t need any more of that, but because I would like to get married someday, but I’ve been told I can’t technically marry “Phil.”

I received a few text messages here and there on Tuesday and then he said he would call me when he was ready, he was thinking maybe 8:30ish. 8:30 rolled around and nothing. I waited ever so patiently and 9:45 my phone rings and it’s him. He has the nerve to ask me if I’m still up for it, I respectfully decline and try to save the hostility, after all he has no idea that I have a pretty strict bedtime of 9:30. Not because I’m lame, but because I am gainfully employed and I LOVE sleep. He apologizes and says (I do actually give him credit for his honesty) “I don’t know, I guess I just had bad time management today.”

Normally I would have been somewhere in the “Excuse me? First time we meet and you have bad time management? Get yourself together. I’m not wasting my time.” ball park, but I have realized that hostility gets you nowhere and oddly enough I wasn’t even upset or disappointed. I felt indifferent about it because at this point broken plans were by far the least of the horrible things that have ever happened to me.

If there is one thing I have learned about myself it’s that if a guy is overly interested in me I’m, for all practical purposes, out. I want nothing to do with him and or a relationship with him. If however, a guy has no real interest in me I find myself in a state of admiration. I want him and that’s final. So of course when this guy doesn’t drop his plans for me all of the sudden my interest has been peeked. Challenge accepted.

So, we made plans for a Thursday night and once again it was a late night, but we stuck to them and we both saw them through. When I had asked him where he wanted to go he had said ‘Lava’. Now, don’t worry because the first time I heard it I didn’t know just exactly what it was either. So when I Googled the place I couldn’t help but laugh when I found out it was a Hookah Bar. I don’t know if it was the fact that I hadn’t smoked Hookah since I was 18 or if was the fact that I didn’t know Hookah was even still cool, but I found this to be hilarious.

I showed up at Lava as planned and the date continued as appropriate. I don’t smoke, anything, so I drank a beer and he smoked the hookah. The date progressed as any date would and then it ended and we went our separate ways. The date definitely wasn’t bad, but it definitely wasn’t extraordinary either. It was just another first date and in order to make a solid decision on how I felt about him I would have to see him a few more times.

We continued to go on dates and continued to text and although he seemed to be a great guy, the chemistry was just so-so. It took him somewhere around 3 dates until he finally kissed me, which was strange to me, but I thought he was just being a gentleman so it was kind of sweet.

Every “relationship” (I use quotation marks because it was far from a relationship, but I don’t know how else to describe it) has that one deciding moment. There is always something that happens that makes you say “yep, I like this guy!” or “yep, this isn’t going to work.” In this scenario, for me, it was the latter of the two. I’ll never forget this moment. We went to the Farmers Market together, which in theory is ADORABLE, and we had a pretty good time. He had taken me back to my apartment and when we went to part ways I thought it would be the standard hug, kiss, and goodbye. Once again, I was wrong he hugged me for what seemed like a decade. We just stood there, outside my apartment hugging, and hugging, and still hugging, which was all fine until he said “You’re so little. I like hugging you, it feels nice.” I smiled one of those scared smiles that says “Oh. My. God. Are you going to kill me? Are you Buffalo Bill?” My friend warned me about this. She always said when dating guys from the internet you could be meeting the love of your life or Buffalo Bill.

I really didn’t think he was going to kill me, as previously stated he was a REALLY nice guy, but the strange part wasn’t the hugging. After all the hugging he didn’t even kiss me, he just turned around and said goodbye. It was at this time that I thought, I think we have both lost interest in each other and for the first time in a while I wasn’t wrong.

Some time had passed and we continued to talk off and on, but nothing serious. I was in the midst of the lease on my apartment coming to an end and I was frantically searching for a place to live so I wouldn’t have to move back in with my parents. Much to their demise this was of no success as their basement has now become my humble abode. I tell people its temporary, but I’m currently in the process of painting the walls.

Anyway, I had told him what was going on and he had said something along the lines of: “If we could be friends, it’s possible I might be looking for a roommate if you’d be interested?” I just remember thinking to myself that is quite possibly the worst way EVER to tell someone that you’re not interest. “Hey I don’t really want to date you and I don’t really like you that much. You were basically just filling time, but in an effort to not hurt your feelings and let you down easy, would you like to be friends AND roommates?” Apparently Tinder is the new Craigslist.

A Deal Made With The Devil

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“Son, the greatest trick the Devil pulled was convincing the world there was only one of him.”
-David Wong, John Dies at the End

What do you get when you’ve met a guy from an online dating website, you’ve been dating for a month, and he asks you to co-sign a loan for him? Yes, a disaster.

So yeah, this happened. I was dating this sleazy dirt bag who was 30 years old and actually asked me to co-sign on a loan for him to purchase a vehicle.

It was March of 2014 and I was down in Nashville Tennessee with a bunch of girls celebrating one of my closest friend’s upcoming nuptials; it was a bachelorette party, if you will! One morning we were all cooking breakfast, drinking Bloody Mary’s, and rehashing events from the night before. Not even an hour had passed and when I went to go get my phone I had 20 MISSED CALLS from the man I was dating, or a/k/a the Devil.

I finally called Lucifer back and you will not believe the question that came out of his mouth. He had actually asked me if I would be willing to co-sign for a loan for him for the purchase of a new vehicle! Of course my immediate reactions were “Hell NO!” “Absolutely not!” and “are you kidding me?” He was 30 years old and he couldn’t even afford to get a car on his own. This hands down without a doubt should have been the moment that I realized “I need to get out NOW!”

I got back to Indiana and I decided I would feel the relationship out for a little while longer. After all, maybe he was just hard pressed and out of a desperate attempt to get a new car he had a lack of judgment and asked me. This happens all the time, right?

A few weeks went by and I never heard another thing about him wanting me to sign for this vehicle. I thought I was free and clear and we would be able to progress forward with our relationship, which for the most part was a disaster in itself.

A few days later I get a really vague text from my boyfriend that was just an address and said “please meet me here after work.” I thought maybe something was wrong, so after the work day was complete I headed out.

As I merged off the interstate and my GPS was pointing me closer and closer to final destination, in the distance I saw a car dealership. In an attempt to rationalize with myself I figured he had just purchased a vehicle and he needed my help getting something back to his house. That’s what it had to be, there was no other explanation.

As I got out of my car and he approached me he said “I want you to look at the Jeep I’m about to buy.” Immediately I felt relief wash over my body. He was just showing me the vehicle that HE purchased. Shew, I wiped some sweat off my brow on that one.

We looked at his Jeep and took a test drive and I assured him that the vehicle was flawless and that I thought he should get it.

Between the sales guy and my boyfriend, by the time it was all said and done I ended up walking out of there as the co-signer of a “temporary” 90-day loan. I was under the impression that in 90 days my name would be dropped from the loan and I would no longer be financially responsible.

Now, before you go assuming I’m a huge idiot, let me be clear, I absolutely am. These two swindled me into making a deal that didn’t even exist. There is no such thing as a temporary 90 day loan; I should have been smart enough to know that, but I let their sweet talking ways win me over. I literally made a deal with the devil himself.

As time passed our relationship slowly deteriorated until all that was left was the connection of the Jeep. This was mostly due to the fact that he slept with his ex and got her pregnant while we were still together, but that’s neither here nor there. Once 90-days had passed I thought I was free and clear of the loan. I was thinking they would mail me some papers to sign and I would be on my way to freedom. Again, I realize how big of an idiot I sound like, but let me proceed.

I called the loan company to see what the next steps would be and what do you know, they tell me that I’m the sole borrower and the loan is completely in my name. They also proceed to tell me that the loan is 75 days past due. Immediately my heart drops right out of my ass. How could this have happened? How could I have been so blind? For Christ sake I work in the legal field and we deal with loans all the time. HOW DID I MISS THIS?

I went about in a frantic state for what seemed like forever until I gained my composure and started obnoxiously calling my ex. He had promised me he was going to apply for a loan and we would refinance this into his name. We stayed in touch for a couple of weeks when suddenly he fell off the face of the planet. His phone was dead, his house was empty, and the Jeep (that was mine) was nowhere to be found. There was only one logical answer; he had taken his rightful place as King of the underworld.

I immediately called the finance company and told them the Jeep was missing. I told them that I was not paying on the loan and that their only recourse would be to find the Jeep and have it repossessed. As my dad said, “You can’t squeeze blood out of a turnip.” He was basically stating the fact that I was poor and couldn’t pay for the disaster that I had gotten myself in to.

My next step was to call the Police and report the vehicle as stolen and just hope and pray that this would all be figured out soon.

A few weeks went by and I heard absolutely nothing, from anybody. My nerves were on their last string and I’m pretty sure I lost a baseball sized clump of hair from all of the stress. My life was slowly spiraling out of control.

I finally took matters into my own hands and I started doing some digging and it didn’t take me long to figure out that this charming ex-boyfriend of mine had been arrested for theft, not vehicle theft, but gas theft. He was put in jail on a $6,000 bond. After some further research I found out that he posted bond and was immediately arrested for a warrant he had out for his arrest and he was held for another jurisdiction. So what jurisdiction was he being held for? Oh, I’m all too happy to answer that question, he was being held for the U.S. Military.

Apparently he went AWOL from the U.S. Army 8 years ago and after evaluation he was charged with desertion and he is now being held in a military facility in Colorado. As to the specificity of his case, I don’t know, but I do know that it was pretty serious. It was also seriously awesome, at least to me.

This is probably my biggest regret to date, but I can’t say I didn’t learn a good lesson. I actually learned a couple of things from this relationship:

1. Never get financially involved with anyone who isn’t your husband, and even then question it;
2. Karma is real, and I came out on the winning end;
3. At the first sign of crazy save yourself the trouble and get out; and
4. I obviously have a pretty keen ability for picking winners.

A Terrible Promise

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I was getting my daily dose of Pinterest the other day and after I had pinned all the helpful tips that will one day make me a good mother, wife, baker, and cook, I decided I would parooz the wedding section. No, I’m not getting married anytime soon, but I’d like to think I’m one day closer than I was yesterday, although, the chances of that are about as unlikely as me moving out of my parents’ house before I’m 30. As I was searching for the perfect dress and ring I stumbled across something truly appalling: The promise ring.

My first thought was “Wait a hold it, do people still get promise rings?” as I pondered this ridiculous question I then had to further ask myself “Do adults give/receive promise rings?” I was then immediately transported back to my high school sweetheart.

I was 15 years old and I was about to enter my sophomore year of high school. I was at that awkward bratty teenage stage where I thought I was on top of the world and everyone owed me everything. I also thought I had the world dangling by my fingertips. So, it was no surprise that from the moment I first set eyes on the older boy at the X-Men III movie, I knew he was going to be mine.

I completed the mission I had set out to conquer; I did in fact make him mine. I just knew he was the one I would spend the rest of my life with. Just like I knew I would be a famous broadcaster and just like I knew my parents were out to ruin my life.

We dated all through high school and it was anything and everything, but glamorous. There was the dramatic break-up after break-up and of course every girl in high school wanted what I had, him. Or at least that’s what I had thought.

I can vividly remember the moment I made such a big deal about not having a promise ring. I was practically the only one out of my friends who didn’t have a ring on their finger to show they were in a “committed” relationship. It was such a petty thing to do and looking back on it I can’t help but laugh, but it worked. He finally got me a Promise ring and he gave it to me on Valentine’s Day, oh the originality. It was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen and it was by far bigger than any of my friends, which obviously was all that mattered. I had never been more in love than I was with that beautiful diamond.

Two weeks later we broke up.

So this brings me to the main topic of conversation, the promise ring and its stupidity.

It’s a terrible promise. At best a promise ring is a commitment to a commitment. It says “I’m not really sure I want to marry you and commit to you forever, but I think, maybe one day. So here, wear this ring and show the world my halfhearted vow that one day I might actually make a real commitment.” Chances are he’s not giving you a promise ring to show you how much he cares, he’s giving it to you to get you, your mom, your sister, and your closest girl friends to stop asking him why you aren’t engaged yet.

It’s a waste of money. I don’t know the going rate for a promise ring these days but if I had to guess I would say somewhere between a K-Mart Ring to the discounted section at Halzberg. I’m thinking of a price range between $99 and $600. How about you just save your money and put it towards the actual engagement ring you might buy me one day or you could literally buy me anything else, just not a promise ring. All I’m saying is there is a pair of Christian Louboutin heels that I’ve been lusting after and I would much rather have those than a stupid promise ring.

There are a million ways to show your commitment. As stated previously a promise ring is a terrible promise. In no way shape or form does a promise ring really provide a promise. Just like when I was 18, it easy to end the relationship. An engagement ring is given with the intent of an upcoming wedding. A promise ring is given to stall the giving of an actual engagement ring. To me it doesn’t really show commitment as much as it shows fear of making the final, actual, commitment. If you want to show you’re a committed boyfriend there are a million ways to do it and in my opinion a promise ring should NOT be one of them.

It’s childish. When you’re in high school, it’s fine. Now that we’re all adults though let’s just be upfront with what we want. You either want marriage eventually and you will make the commitment in a few years or you don’t. None of this Promise ring, maybe one day bullshit. You either do or don’t. End of story.

In the end a promise ring is a personal preference. Just know if you’re over the age of 23 and you’re boyfriend gives you a promise ring and you feel the need to show me, I will laugh in your face.

For my future love interest, or Phil if you will, if you EVER buy me a promise ring there’s probably a good chance that that will be the end of the road for our relationship. Now, if you buy me the Louboutin’s we can probably talk about a future.

Stop. Just Stop.

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I’m often asking myself questions like “how in tarnation did I end up in the same place as this guy?” and “Where did I go wrong?” and when things get particularly depressing “What did I do to deserve this?” Yes, online dating is a completely different world. The people you come across are unlike most and it’s frightening to see that you’ve ended up in the same place as them.

We can call it a skill if we’d like, but I’ve become quite the online dating profile expert. The biggest thing I’ve learned is that 90% of dating profiles are extremely generic and read exactly the same. Suddenly everyone thinks they’re athletic, outdoorsy, and adventurous.

I’ve become quite the expert at breaking down the bullshit. I’ve had to learn the hard way that what a guy says in his bio is, for the most part, the biggest lie ever.

“I’m laid back”
-I’m bat shit crazy. They’re the ones that only stop texting and calling after they’ve left 50 messages. They’re overly jealous and territorial, but they’ll never put that in their profile. That’s a little surprise they show you after 3 months of dating, so beware.

“I have a great career”
-Don’t get your hopes up because they probably don’t. Everybody on a dating website has some sort of great career where they’re making six figures. I find the more ambiguous they are with their description the worst their career is.

I’m in finance – “I work the cash registered at the local McDonalds.”

I’m in healthcare – “I just signed up for Obamacare and I worked the application flawlessly.”

I’m a manager – “I’m broke.” Everyone is some sort of manager and if they aren’t a manager they’re an entrepreneur.

My favorite of all time is when people put “I get a check.” Well that’s a start. We have no idea if it’s from an actual job, selling drugs, or if it’s received on the 1st and 15th of each month when welfare checks get distributed, but hey, at least they get a check.

“I love going to the gym”
-Cue the shirtless picture of undefined abs. A dating website is the last place a shirtless picture should ever be posted. It screams one thing “I’m a douche.” Even if you’ve got rocking abs, you’re still a douche. Oh, and if any dating profile ever uses the words “gym rat” run.

“I love to travel”
-Don’t we all? Realistically speaking though the majority of people have this thing called a job that only allows us to have 14 vacation days a year (if we’re lucky.) We also aren’t making millions of dollars so we don’t get to spend those days gallivanting across Europe, but you’re a manager so I’m sure that’s not the case for you.

I’ve managed to learn how to effectively comb through dating profiles. It’s not a skill I’m particularly proud of, but we all have our fortes and due to the hand I’ve been dealt this is unfortunately mine. For example, I once looked a guys profile that read like this: “I don’t boink on the first date.” That was all I needed to see to know that I would NOT be messaging him back. Not because I do the dirty on the first date, but because nobody “boinks” on the first date, in fact nobody “boinks” ever. You reap what you sow, he decided to use that god awful word and I decided to block him.

None of this compares to the ridiculous messages you receive on a dating websites though. So I’ve decided that I’d share few you all.

The guy that won’t stop
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You pretty much lost all interest the moment you used BTW. Also, no need to explain what dating is. This is a “dating” website. Not a mail order bride website. I don’t expect a relationship after one message.

The Sugar Daddy
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I guess my headline should say “I don’t have daddy issues.” Besides 30 minutes? I have a feeling he’s giving himself a little too much credit.

The Apple App
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As far as my go-to drink? It’s a toss up between a vodka tonic with a lime and any drink I’m not having with you.

English, Please
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I can’t reply because I’m not fluent in ghetto, or whatever language that is you’re using.

Just Stop
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Yes, my hair is phenomenal, but just because you add the word “really” to your third message doesn’t mean I’ve magically changed my mind and you’re going to get a response back. Just Stop.

The Go Getter
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In love? Let’s runaway and get married? Yeah, let’s not do that. There are a million ways to show girls your not afraid of commitment and this shouldn’t be your go-to.

Ru?
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Whose Ru and why do I care that they’re single?

Long story short, let’s just say the online dating thing isn’t working out too well for me.

As for me and my profile, I like to think it’s quite original. My headline reads as follows: “Must be gainfully employed with a credit score of 720, all others need not apply”

My Friend: The Match Maker

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I have this friend who so far has been notorious for setting me up on the worst “dates” known to mankind. I love her to death and I’d place my life in her hands, but she’s been so far off base with the set-up thing that it’s unfathomable. So far we’re quite a few set ups in and each story is better than the last. I’d love to share them all with you but for now let’s just focus on these two.

The Jean Jacketed Curly Headed Ginger

Somewhere around my third semester of college I started to realize that I had no idea what I was doing there besides drinking. It was at this moment that I decided to take a step back and move back home to be a ‘Stay at Home Daughter’ for a while. So, when things started to get tense between my roommates and me (a.k.a my mom and dad) I would take a weekend away and visit my ever so lovely “match making” friend.
One weekend while I was visiting she had introduced me to the guy she was seeing and he was a rather attractive fellow who was a Marine or a part of the SWAT team, I can’t remember his actual title but it was something that’s associated with pure raw sexiness. I remember thinking I bet he has some attractive friends she could set me up with, so I told her to get me the hook-up.

It was a Saturday night and her beau had wrangled himself a friend so we could all go out to dinner. From the moment the two showed up at my friend’s apartment I was already disappointed. He was the last thing I would have ever expected him to bring, but yet here he was and there I was. I’m almost a 100% positive he didn’t have curly hair nor was he a Ginger, but for some reason that’s exactly how I remember him. He also wasn’t wearing a jean jacket, but he told some story about a time when he was wearing a jean jacket and that always stuck in my mind. The description I have given on him is completely false, but for the life of me I can’t remember what he actually looked like.

I wasn’t too awfully upset though, because if truth be told he did have a pretty good personality. He was hilarious, but I find that most of the time when a guy is overly funny he’s making up for what he lacks in looks, or size — if ya know what I mean. Anyway, he pretty much stole the show that night in telling stories and cracking jokes. Like I said he turned out to be hilarious, but there was still something about him that I just couldn’t quite put my finger on, but whatever it was, I didn’t like it.

Dinner proceeded according to plan and we went back to my friend’s apartment to just hang out, relax, and watch some football. It was at this time that the Jean Jacketed Curly Headed Ginger apparently got some bad case of ADHD. I have no idea where it came from or why it started but it did and it was obnoxious. His gum chomping rivaled that of Bo Pelini. There was finger tapping and foot tapping, and it was all just too much. I could hardly sit there for a second longer.

We were sitting on a futon and the damn thing was shaking worse than Michael J. Fox during an earthquake (stop acting like I’m the first one to crack a Michael J. Fox joke. Get over yourself.) I could hear my brain wiggling around inside of my head and for a split second I almost lost my cool. I felt like I was riding The Beast and the whiplash was just as bad.

My friend was quietly laughing on the couch when she finally turned towards her date and said “I think your friend might be ready leave.” It was on this queue that they both got up and left.

This tragic set up had finally ended and she and I laughed about it for hours.

Chicago Bound with a Mute

One weekend a few years ago my friend asked me if wanted to go to Chicago for the weekend and see a Cubs game with her and her boyfriend. I’d never been to Chicago and never seen a Cubs game so it only made sense that I would take this opportunity and go, so I did.

I vividly remember her promising that she had told her boyfriend to bring a really fun and attractive friend, so you can imagine my confusion when we showed up and he was neither of those two things. He wasn’t much of a talker and he was skinnier than an angel hair pasta noodle.

Our journey towards Chicago had begun.

My friend, her boyfriend, and I were all talking and laughing. We were having a really good time when I noticed he was just sitting there, interjecting a laugh or two every once in a while, but for the most part he was dead silent. I could hear the crickets.

I honestly don’t have a whole lot to report back on this situation because there wasn’t a whole lot said. I spent a weekend with my best friend and her boyfriend and some guy who couldn’t mutter a single syllable.

The only picture I have to paint for you is this:

We’re at the Cubs game and it’s early spring so it’s still a little chilly outside. Thunder Clouds started to roll in and the storm that took place was less of thunderstorm and more of a monsoon. When the rain had finally let up, and it was more of a light downpour as opposed to a torrential downpour, the game finally started.

The four of us were in the bleachers, in our rain coats, sitting elementary style, girl/boy/girl/boy. I could hear my friend and her boyfriend just laughing and chatting up a storm having what seemed to be a grand old time and here I was stuck in the pouring down rain, cold, and sitting next to a mute. I was envious. Not to mention I was at a baseball game: America’s most boring pastime to spectate if liquor isn’t involved. I most definitely needed a shot or 6.

There were a couple of times I tried to talk to him but after asking the first question and receiving nothing more than a nod I thought “to hell with it, why even bother?” I was miserable. Not only was it raining and I was sitting next to Harpo Marx, but the game went into 5 extra innings. There was actually a point where I pulled my arms and head into my rain coat like a turtle and just sat there. Yes, it seems like a socially awkward thing to do, but there was really no way I could make this anymore socially awkward than he already had.

I sat in my little tent and started praying that the gracious God above would either take me away from the agony or give this man a voice box.

Needless to say I didn’t talk to either of these two guys ever again and I think the feeling of agony and misery was pretty mutual.