Mean or Mannerless?

Thank heavens I’m in this phase of creativity overdrive because my usual distraction, the online dating world, has been woefully underwhelming. As I posted recently, my numbers on Match.com aren’t very inspiring. I won’t bother whining about the boring, bald, chubby or functionally illiterate. What’s the point? But I will tell you about a few email exchanges that have left me wondering if either a. all the men I’m matched with are having much better luck or b. they simply don’t have any manners.

One guy has his location listed as Yonkers when he is, in fact (or says he currently is), in Portland, with plans to move to New York in the future. We exchanged a few pleasant experiences and his last note to me ended with his email address and this: let’s stay connected via email if you leave the sight. yep, my nickname is chip.
I can tell i like your personality and you are fun and chill. 

Okay, so the fact that the guy can’t spell “site” might be a deal breaker but I’ve loosened up on my…standards. It’d be nice if he’d just either make a date but I suppose that’s not so easy when you’re 3,000 miles away.

I mentioned Parrothead in my previous post. He mentioned St. Patrick’s Day in his profile as well as bemoaning women who are so old they barely have a pulse. (Man, don’t I know how that feels!) He sounded…reasonable. To refresh your memory, our complete correspondence history:

Hi!
I have enough of a pulse for a dozen people. Fifty if they’re knitting.
Long time Buffet fan. Have numerous outfits for St. Patrick’s Day. Is your local parade the same day as the big one?
Do you ever make it into Manhattan? Would love to have a beer with you!
Abby

always nice to hear from a fellow parrothead, I get into the city every once in while, but am an island kid at heart, I have outfits for st patricks day also, tux for our parade which is alway the 2nd sun in march , take the train out one year you’ll love our parade there are so many bars along the route.
bob

Thanks for replying, Bob.
Best of luck in your search.
A

But then after I’d posted about it, I thought that maybe perhaps this was his shy (awkward) way of inviting me out to his parade. I decided I’d give him another try:

Okay, sorry to bother you but I had to ask…
Was your last email an invitation or a blow-off?
It’s so very difficult to discern what people mean here. I don’t want to misunderstand.
Any insight would be greatly appreciated.
Abby

to be honest with you I don’t remember ever conversing

Well, that pretty much says it all, I guess.
Best of luck to you!
Abby

Now, is it me, or would it have been SUCH A BOTHER for this guy to LOOK IN HIS MOTHERFUCKING INBOX? To perhaps, oh, I dunno, READ THE EMAIL I SENT HIM? Maybe refer to what I’d sent him? So he could SEE our “conversing?” HOW HARD IS THAT? Did he grow up in a fucking test tube? Has he had NO interaction with women? Ever? Okay, granted, he probably isn’t my type. He 56, lives on Long Island and likes to golf and, apparently, never comes into the city, even though he lists “museums in the city” as one of his interests. So no, not the man of my dreams. But how could he so easily — and rudely — dismiss me? Does he have NO feelings at all? Jeebus. Should I write him and tell him what a rude asshole he is? Yeah, I think I will!

You wrote:
“to be honest with you I don’t remember ever conversing”
I’m not sure if you’re aware, but it’s fairly simple to check your inbox for previously received correspondence.
Or did you mean to dismiss me so rudely?
Online dating is so difficult. We’re all bravely putting ourselves out there. It isn’t that hard to be polite. A simple “I’m not interested” suffices if you are, in fact, not interested. You complain right in your profile about women looking you over and moving on to someone else when they could meet you, a “nice funny guy.” I haven’t met you but thus far you haven’t been very nice.
Again, best of luck to you in your search. Perhaps YOU will continue to pass over “nice, funny women” and wind up dating women who’ll treat you like shit.

There! Hah! The pathetic cyber equivalent of throwing a glass of wine in his face!

Even more troublesome than the (somewhat expected) assholery and social awkwardness is the phenomenon of disappearing dudes. They “like” a photo or send me a “wink” and by the time I notice and go to check out their profiles, they’ve vanished. What happened? Did they visit my profile and then miraculously find true love? Chicken out? Or maybe their subscription expired mere moments after finding me? I guess I’ll never know about Kindman from Kentucky or OUTSTANDING in New Jersey. Not a huge loss. I suppose you’ve guessed by now that I’ll be allowing my subscription to March.come expire…

Match…less

Well it’s been a while since I was booted, quite unceremoniously, from OKCupid. No note, no reason why. Just blocked. Banned. Booted. Boo! So I decided I’d spring for a pay site and joined Match.com.

In the three weeks I’ve been a “member,” my profile has been viewed by 244 potential dates. I’ve received seven “winks” but “favorited” by only  two. I’ve sent out 78 emails but received only 36. That’s less than half. In the “Daily Matches” section, I’ve expressed interest in 21 men while only four are interested in me. So the numbers aren’t exactly encouraging. Any of them.

I haven’t been “overreaching” at all. I swear. I’ve approached men who are age-appropriate and less than movie star handsome. I’m not searching specifically in Manhattan and Brooklyn, even if I somewhat believe that where you live says a lot about who you are. I send innocuous messages. Many men don’t reply at all. Yeah, I know; don’t reply if you aren’t interested, it only makes it worse. Frankly I’d prefer a brief “I’m not interested” to nothing at all. It at least lets me know that my email was received. One man’s reply was “This is least scary.” I was reading it on my phone and wasn’t sure what he meant. When I looked on my laptop I discovered he was referring to one of my photos, finding it “least scary.” Wouldn’t it have been more polite to say he wasn’t interested? I emailed “Parrothead” in Huntington (which is about an hour from the city) because, yes, I’m a closet Buffett fan. I divulged my secret, inquired about his sartorial choices for St. Patrick’s Day and asked if he ever gets into Manhattan. His response: “always nice to hear from a fellow parrothead, I get into the city every once in while, but am an island kid at heart, I have outfits for st patricks day also, tux for our parade which is alway the 2nd sun in march , take the train out one year you’ll love our parade there are so many bars along the route. bob” Gee, thanks, Bob. I guess he’s hoping to find the woman of his dreams within a 10 block radius of his suburban fortress. Perhaps I should’ve pursued his somewhat obtuse invitation? Who knows…

My profile is rather bland, as compared with my OKCupid profile, which perhaps said a bit too much. I dialed back my effusiveness and didn’t post anything that could be construed as negative. Mind you I didn’t go overboard and talk about romantic walks on the beach or not having any baggage. Why people waste their bits and bytes blathering on about that shit is beyond me. But I digress…

There are many differences between OKCupid and Match, most importantly that it seems men are more serious about a “relationship” than merely shopping for sex. The interface isn’t as much fun, though ever since Match.com bought OKCupid the two are slowly becoming more alike. There are way more “I’m laid back and easy going” self descriptions on Match, which is a reflection of fewer creative types. There are also more men using ALL CAPS or Capitalizing Every Word that may indicate lower IQs or less tech savviness (or both). Match’s annoying IM pops up constantly and not once has there been a photo of the guy trying to “chat” with me. They all say the exact same thing, which makes me think they aren’t real people at all but some sort of bot/scam.

I’ve gone out on two dates from Match, both of which were what I would call successful. I’m not sure if that’s due to my scaled back expectations or a higher quality of man. Or if I’ve simply become a better dater, which I think I have. Anything’s bound to improve with practice, right?

One gentleman was better looking in person, a rarity, and he was…interesting. I spent most of the date nodding, smiling and asking questions, which is what “they” say to do. Over the three hours we spent together, he hardly stopped speaking long enough to express much interest in my life. Not a good sign. And when the check came for his cocktail and my two beers, he expected me to pay for my drinks. I didn’t have enough cash for both beers and asked if he minded paying for one. (?!?!) As I emptied my wallet, he said it was fine and that it gave us an excuse to  meet again, which he seemed excited about, since I now “owed” him one. Ummm… He picked the place, which wasn’t cheap. Am I being a diva to expect to have both my beers paid for? Is chivalry completely dead? I do my best to be a cheap date. Anyway.

Bachelor #2 was way more fun and far more chivalrous. So much so that I won’t go on about it here. (And no, he didn’t come home with me!) However it did give me hope. I’d like to meet more men, if only to get my $80 worth, but thus far no one seems terribly enticed by me. I’m leaning toward giving up on the whole online dating thing. And yes, I know I’ve said that before. It will be easier in the spring, when things start to get busy and I travel a bit. The summer is even easier, when I head back out to the desert. I think maybe it’s time to leave love to fate rather than trusting the interwebz. Le Sigh.

Ousted by OKCupid

Well, I guess it’s official (though not through any assistance from the site): OKCupid has booted me. People looking at old emails from me see “Sorry, EditrixAbby no longer has an account.” Initially it said, “This user has deleted/disabled their profile.” I’d like to say that while the former is true the latter most definitely is not. I didn’t disable or delete my profile, OKStupid did.

A while back I was almost banned for “soliciting.” I can’t seem to find my post here about the incident but one of the men I’d been emailing with let me know. Apparently he’s one of the site’s “judges” and his opinion was that I was not, in fact, soliciting. Which I wasn’t. I was corresponding with a guy who was interested in being dominated and I let him know that while I’ve dabbled, it wasn’t really something I was all that interested in personally. The way I put it included the words “for money” and he took that to mean that I wanted him to pay me. What it meant was that the only way I would consider what he was looking for was “for money” and that therefore he should look elsewhere. He reported me, I guess, and I came close to getting the boot.

This time I was actually asking for money, but not in exchange for sexual favors. Or a spanking. Many of the men I correspond with seem nice enough, even if they hold no interest for me romantically, and I often inquire if they might be interested in attending one of my singles’ events. Most say yes. I mean, why not, right? And since OKCupid’s “Events” are designed primarily for younger members, I figure I’m offering a valuable service. Seems OKCupid doesn’t agree. I had sent out details about my upcoming Heart Palpitations event to a bunch of guys, inviting them to attend. There’s a $10 cover charge. I guess that somehow this translated to solicitation. Or some such. Ah well…that’s really a shame, since it seems like many of these men don’t get out much. It would’ve been a perfect opportunity for them to meet a bunch of interesting new people — not to mention me! — and maybe learn a few things about love. Sigh.

Maybe a few of them will Google me and find this. In any event, it might’ve been nice if OKCupid had let me know that I have, indeed, been banned, rather than just making it seem like the site isn’t working. It’s pretty crappy customer relations. Guess it’s time to get serious and join Match.com. Double sigh…

Brick & Mortar Me

Hello, readers!
Sorry I haven’t posted in a while but I’ve been busy being productive! I started my class at FIT and whipped up a few new tiaras. Now, I’d like to tell you about a few upcoming events I’m involved in:

The first one, I’ve been hired as sort of a “celebrity bartender.” I’m
very flattered and want to make sure they think they made a smart
choice! The cover is crazy high but they’ve offered MY FRIENDS a
discount!

The second event is one I’m producing myself. It’s the first event
I’ve put together in a LONG time. I’d love to see you there! And if
you can’t make it, any help promoting it, letting friends (or anyone
you think might be interested) know about it, would be greatly
appreciated!

This Saturday, February 9, I’ll be bartending at Ominous City, a
burneresque celebration of Valentine’s Day and the Lunar New Year.
The cover is steep but you’ll get in for a reduced price if you enter
this discount code: @bbiluv
For complete party details, check out their Facebook page:
https://www.facebook.com/events/534643026553612/?fref=ts

On Sunday, February 17, I’m producing my first event in ages: Heart
Palpitations, an enchanting evening of interactive lessons in
love…and more!
Complete details are below, but here is the link to the Facebook page:
https://www.facebook.com/events/127226280785561/?fref=ts

HEART PALPITATIONS
Valentine’s Day has blown over and you’ve gobbled down all your
conversation hearts. Now what? Dating Blogger and nightlife empresaria
EditrixAbby presents Heart Palpitations, a post-Valentine’s Day event
for couples, singles, seekers and students of the heart.

Recently fixated on all things LOVE, Abby has assembled an eclectic
assortment of experts on passion. Whether you’re suffering from a love
hangover or you’re blissfully coupled, this enchanting evening offers
lessons for everyone.

The evening begins with a tantalizing appetizer by Ebonie Little, who
will combine the two interests in a guided “eating meditation”, We’ll
learn to re-engage the senses to savor what we put into our
bodies–and in effect, remember loving self-care. Ebonie creates
chocolate delights through Miss Little’s Jars. She will be offering
sensuous treats like Moussexy, a chai-spiced, sugar-free confection,
and truffles in many flavors, for sale in the cocktail lounge. Ms.
Little also founded Eating Consciously, a grassroots online dialogue
on mindful nutrition.
www.ebonielittle.wordpress.com/miss-littles-jars

Author, sex educator, video producer and relationship lecturer Jamye
Waxman will facilitate an ice breaker to help you communicate more
effectively about sexuality.
www.jamyewaxman.com

Stacy Rapp, “Head Witch” at Enchantments, the East Village
headquarters for all your Wiccan and witchy needs, will lead a
goddess-based confidence and beauty spell to increase your attraction
factor!
www.enchantmentsincnyc.com

Be Wild Woman founder Kiana Love will incorporate dance and chakra
exercises to help you become more receptive to passion and abundance.
www. bewildwoman.com

Closing out the evening, Elf Girl Reverend Jen will prove that humor
is a key component to passion. Proprietrix of The Troll Museum,
producer of The Anti-Slam and puppetmaster of the Mr. Lower East Side
Pageant, Rev. Jen has been a fixture of the underground East Village
arts scene since there actually was an underground arts scene.
www.revjen.com

Katie Hotaling is an amateur baker who whips up creative concoctions
to satisfy your sugar cravings. She will be sharing her pastry
decorating tips with you as you embellish your own baby cupcake.
‘Cause who doesn’t love sprinkles?
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Katies-Konfectionery/274713385984706

DJ Douggie Style will provide the sensuous soundtrack for the soiree,
from conversation-conducive subdued to a more electrified ambience
after 11. Monday is a holiday, so come out and play!

EditrixAbby will be your emcee, sharing anecdotes and advice for
dating in the 21st Century.

Show up early for your Goodie Bag, including a free porn DVD, cookies
by ThisChickBakes.com and more!

Affaire Downstairs is a cozy venue with a cocktail lounge for
conversation and a dance floor with plush nooks perfect for absorbing
lessons in romance. You are free to opt in (or out) of each
presentation.

FAST FACTS
WHAT: Heart Palpitations
WHEN: Sunday, February 17
TIME: 7pm
PRESENTATIONS: 7:30-11
WHERE: Affaire, 50 Avenue B at East 4th St.
COVER: $10

Replies Often

When a man contacts me on OKCupid I often reply. I am, therefore, ranked as someone who “Replies Often.” I would put my percentages at about 98%. Those other 2%-ers don’t hear from me either because I’m distracted or busy or…just can’t think of anything nice (or smartass) to say. In other words, I can almost always think of something to say.

Which, you might think, is a good thing. It is, in fact, a bad thing. A VERY bad thing. It means I respond to men I don’t find appealing. Men who probably copied-and-pasted the same overture to me and about 100 other women. Men who are 25 years my senior. Or junior. And men who live in Alaska. Worst of all are the men who are encouraged by my reply, even if I say, as politely as possible, that I’m not interested.

Such a cyber-courtship unfolded today. After a number of “No, thank you”s, G. persevered. This time I was less polite. He wrote “Let’s talk” and gave me his number. I envisioned this exact two word directive sent off to dozens of unread profiles and replied, more curtly than in the past: “Not interested, sorry.” And then got roundly chastised. I (stupidly) backpedaled and suggested that if he was that interested, he was welcome to come visit me at work. Which he did. And he was as unappealing in person as he had been online. But he eyed me salaciously and told me, “You look goooood.” Uh, yeah, thanks. I think.

Let me tell you, gentlemen, that though women are almost always flattered to be flattered, basing your “interest” in us on looks alone reduces us to a slab of meat in a deli display. This particular gentleman made no references to my profile when he emailed me or when he showed up in person. He did, however, make reference to my photos. I felt like an ice cream sundae. Which, I will admit, would’ve been awesome if the ogling had been working both ways. But it wasn’t.

I had asked him, after his chastisement, “And you are interested in me, why? Our match percentages are pretty low. Do we have anything in common?” His reply gave no indication of what he saw in me. And aside from appearing to be pleased with how I looked in person, he didn’t share any of his reasons for choosing me when he sat across the bar from me, either. So when he leered, “Now that we’ve done the look-see thing, how about a real date?” I painfully, politely declined.

Now, you don’t need me to tell you that rejection is more easily taken through the ether. It is what makes online dating so appealing. Everyone gets to do the rejecting from the comfort of their own home. In person, ouch. So I wasn’t surprised that he left abruptly, before I had a chance to say goodbye. And I was even less surprised when he immediately sent me a flurry of rude emails, culminating with “You are not as hot as I had hoped.” Ah, good thing. How sad if he’d been rejected by someone really hot!

Okay, I know what you’re thinking. Abby, you callous cunt. The guy came all the way to your bar and you shut him down! Well, I tried, repeatedly, to dissuade him. Would it have been better if he’d spent $50 on dinner? I guess the next time I’m not interested, I’d best not respond. Soon I will be branded with the fearsome “Replies Selectively.” So if you don’t hear from me, you’ll know why!

She Who Wears the Crown

I received a third letter. My boss let me know another one arrived today, so I went to the bar and picked it up. It showed up so quickly, I thought I’d respond just as quickly. Since this is the only way I have to communicate with my Mystery Man, I’ll ask you to bear with me, dear readers, as this strange little drama plays out.

Rather than type out the entire missive and then respond, I think it makes more sense to respond paragraph by paragraph, as though we were having an actual conversation. I’m not saying this will make it any more compelling but at least you’ll get to “come along” on the ride. So to speak. The phrases or words he has put in quotes usually refer to my words from previous posts.

“…is this day and age…” when a boy is interested in a girl (intended usage) a smart boy will revert — or make the attempt — in a manner that is not as prosaic as what has sadly become accepted norm. This is hardly “too much time on his hands rather, it’s showing the girl she’s worth it. In other word (sic), “wooing.”

So I guess you’re saying that sending me an email would’ve been “the norm” and, thus, too prosaic. Point taken. I’m flattered that you’re taking the time to “woo” me.

“you have a secret admirer…” is so banal, as is an anonymous valentine. That could be from ANYONE, and it’s been done to death (as has “secret admirer.”)

True enough. Though I’d have to say that these notes could just as easily be from “ANYONE.” Thus far, you’ve done nothing to set yourself apart from the thousands of other strangers out there in the city. I will withhold my judgement for the time being, however, given that you’ve indicated you’ll be sending more.

Before I go any further, I’m suggesting you not get too excited about this; I’m not your type for 2 very important reasons that I won’t reveal. How do I know? You’ve made numerous references in any number of blogs as you regale your minions of adventures in love[less]land.

I’ll be sure to check myself if I start falling in love with your typewritten pages. Since it’s evident from said notes that you’re capable of stringing sentences together (with proper grammar and spelling!), I’m guessing those two reasons are variations on the “old” and “out of shape” infractions germane to men in my age range that I regularly bemoan here. Sadly, meeting in the brick and mortar world — as opposed to the online dating universe — is always preferable, as looks become less important. Given that you are, regardless of your aversion to the term, both an admirer (of sorts) and secret (unknown to me), it would’ve been easy to just show up at the bar one day and hang out. No need to make a big deal out of it. Actually, you could still just show up. There’s no way I’d know…

Why bother then? Because you’re worth it; I get the sense that you like mental stimulation… and fun. (There’s NO stalking! Jeez! And no “ransom” intent. It was a graphic (font) device. “Ransom” suggest extortion and you’ll surely note I wanted nothing of you.)

Okay, first, let’s not get hung up on the word “ransom.” What I meant was that your “graphic (font) device” was reminiscent of ransom letters. No need to address that again.

Yes, you’ve got me wondering “Why bother?” I’m flattered that you believe I’m “worth it.” But worth what? Worth stimulating mentally? I’ll admit, there is a “fun” aspect to this, the curiosity and the time you’re taking to mystify me. Though then the question is, “To what end?” Will the letters just keep coming? Until? Until I lose interest? Because if, as you’ve indicated, we will never meet, then what is the intent?

So please accept what follows — and this may take some time — in the spirit in which it’s offered.

Agreed. Though I’m a bit wary of what’s to follow. Letter after letter, letting me know how I can be a better…blogger? Dater? Human being? Or perhaps merely have my ego eternally stroked? I’d say I’m game for anything but, well, that would be an untruth.

Also, a favor. Please don’t beat me up too much in Bloggedyville. There’s something to be said for “stirring the animals” (as H.L. Mencken referred to the masses), it’s another for your gangs (and you have them) to attack when someone, anyone, dares to ding the tiara of she that wears the crown. Frankly, I’m surprised you had ZERO replies to the “stalking” piece (thank god!)

Bloggedyville? Hah! I was surprised, too. I have no idea what motivates people to respond, though a catfight sure brings in the hits! I won’t make any promises I can’t keep. Thus far there’s no reason to beat you up. But given that I have no idea what’s to come, I can’t predict how I will react. I find it hilarious that you (and other commenters) believe I have these “minions” and “gangs” and “supporters.” On my best day, my blog had about 200 hits; only a few of my readers are friends. Sure, there are a rabid handful who defend me but they are usually coming from a place of not just knowing me better but knowing what I mean. Often the catfights result when my words are misconstrued. Besides, if they were to “attack,” what would it matter? You are — and will, apparently, remain — the Mystery Man. Is your skin that thin, even from afar? And from strangers?

And one last thing: in context of “which is worse, the ones that got away or the ones that never were?” the “never were” (implicit being “never gonna be”) was a simple “floated idea.” Go to YouTube and type in “the people that you never get to love” (the “mrquickryder” version.) It may be too sappy for you (the Susannah McCorkle version is the best; unfortunately unavailable) but I think you’ll appreciate the sentiment of the lyric. Or not.
Stay tuned…..

I still don’t quite understand your thought process behind these notes. The first one was a “floated idea?” A sort of “what if?” From reading the rather wistful lyrics of that song, I understand what you’re getting at. Though I can’t even imagine all the people I never got to love. I’ve loved (and continue to love) so many. Why waste time on regret? If you are including yourself in the group of people (men?) I never get to love, aren’t you counting yourself out of the game before it’s even begun? Do you believe in yourself so little?

I dunno…I suppose this will unspool in whatever way you choose, since you’re sort of in the driver’s seat. Or sender’s seat. Let’s just see, shall we?

“Shy” Stalker’s Intent? Intrigue! Hmm, Intriguing!

A week after receiving that peculiar anonymous note at work (which I wrote about in my Stalking post a few days ago), I received another:

Dear Abby,
This is going to spiral out of control, and in a hurry.
What was intended as intrigue, curiosity, piqued interest, has back-fired into the unfortunate use of the “s” word. There’s no “stalking” involved; if there is an “s word” it’s shyness. The danger in doing what I thought was cute is that it will take on a terrible life via social media — really not my intent — and create the wrong impression.
There’s a big different between “too much time on one’s hands” and an attempt to be clever. As such I’ll stop immediately and apologize for whatever consternation I may have caused.
Once again, I’m sorry.

No signature or name. This time the envelope wasn’t hand addressed. And it was postmarked: New York, NY 18 JAN 2013 10PM. Guess it was sitting at the bar for a few days! So. I’m going to address the sender here, since he obviously reads this blog.

Apology accepted. I’m hoping you didn’t overlook the fact that, in the end, I decided to take the letter, as odd as it was, the way you’d actually intended: as a compliment. In this day and age, people don’t even spend time licking an envelope or slapping on a stamp for those they love, so I was flattered (if, simultaneously, freaked). Its arrival merely happened to coincide with my desire to write about stalking. A note from an unknown source can be taken in many ways; in the context of stalking, it fit right in. However, being a shy admirer, most certainly, isn’t the same as stalking. The anonymity of the note made it a little…creepy. Now that you’ve (sort of) outed yourself, it wasn’t stalking at all. Yes, the wrong impression was created. Now that you’ve revealed your intent, that impression has been modified. And the note, less creepy.

Of course, it leaves so many unanswered questions. I’ll start with What, exactly, did you mean by “never were”? Which leads to, Are you one that “never was”? Or are you one that just hasn’t been…yet? Are you so shy you can’t face me in person? Or have you faced me and found yourself unable to…say hello? Ask me out? Do we know each other or are we total strangers?

Whether we’ve met or not, I’m primarily interested in your use of words. If you were attempting to be “clever” why not just say something along the lines of “You have a secret admirer”? With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, an anonymous Valentine would’ve had a much different impact; it would have been an indication of actual interest, which was what your ransom note-ish missive, with its ambiguity, unfortunately lacked.

Beyond all these obvious initial questions, I must inquire further: Are you now out of the picture completely? If so, that would be a shame. Because now I am, indeed, intrigued.

A Kiss Is Just A…

How important is a kiss? Or more specifically, how important is it that a kiss be good? Maybe not perfect but, well, at least good enough to keep…kissing.

Even in the most unconventional situations — with the obvious exception of hookers — a kiss or two (or 20) is commonplace before sex. Ideally it leads to sex. If the kissing is good, mmmm, whether it takes months or moments, it serves as the gateway drug to intercourse. Kissing involves more than just lips. The tongue gets involved, arms entwine, you’re close enough to smell your partner in pucker. And if all of this feel wonderful, why wouldn’t, well, more feel better still?

Okay, I can tell you’re nodding in agreement so I’m going to forge ahead. What about the opposite? What if the kiss is not good? At all. What if the kiss is terrible? If you find yourself thinking, mid-kiss, “This can’t go on. I simply cannot go on kissing this person for one more moment.” Then what?

There are many reasons you might think this but the bottom line is that everyone has a different idea of what constitutes a good kiss. And this changes for each person over their lifetime. Believing you’ve just received the best kiss ever when you’ve never kissed anyone before makes perfect sense; you have no other kisses to which it can be compared. But when you’ve kissed dozens of frogs, er, I mean men, then you’re evaluating that experience through very experienced lips.

Well these experienced lips have experienced some pretty damn good kissing. Every man I’ve kissed did it differently. Some were better than others, of course, and many improved with each subsequent smack. One, in particular, was the Best Kisser Ever. Making out with him was like being in a movie, the scene where the starlet is melting into her leading man’s arms. Thank goodness this man came along late in my life or think how many others would’ve been held up to his example! As it is, he’s a tough act to follow.

Which leads me to a few of my latest kisses. They’ve been less than spectacular. So lackluster, in fact, that any chances of lust resulting are all but nonexistent. “Can’t you train him?” friends have asked. Well, yeah, sure. But wouldn’t you think that in my sixth goddamn decade of life, providing educational opportunities such as these is really asking a bit too much?

There’s a reason so many women eschew new relationships and wind up living alone in a house full of cats. This is only one of them. Factor in revealing yourself, naked, to someone new, adjusting to sharing your bed (again), navigating the likes and dislikes, foibles and quirks, bodily functions and sexual dysfunctions, ack, the list is endless. Honestly? I’m not sure I can do it. And if I were going to even consider it, the guy’s gotta at least be a good kisser.

French Kiss (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Be Here (or There) Now

During my recent two weeks in the Bay Area, I changed my location on OKCupid to “San Francisco.” I was, in fact, staying in Marin but what the hell? The Bay Area is the Bay Area, at least for dating within a 100 mile radius purposes.

First, let me say that the pickin’s out there are far superior to the pickin’s here. No idea why but I will venture one guess: guys can get easier exercise and perhaps care more about physical fitness. Secondly, I observed that the clichéd “laid back California vibe” carries over into online dating. Even though I only managed to meet up with one man, most seemed open to a casual date with an out-of-towner; their general reactions to my emails were more welcoming.

I wouldn’t say I was being dishonest by listing my location as California. But I suppose I wasn’t quite honest, either. I don’t live there. I was there for a visit and thought, what the hell, why not? One of my “Visitors” emailed me, “Weren’t you in SF yesterday?” Apparently people do pay attention, even to the whereabouts of strangers. I told him I was.

When I got back home I changed my location back to New York City. A guy whose profile picture was a sousaphone caught my eye. I KNOW! I have condemned men who don’t post photos but the brass instrument (heh) piqued my interest. I thought perhaps we’d met since, well, ’cause my social circle includes plenty of marching band members. Gah. Anyway, cutting to the chase, I emailed him but he isn’t in NYC at all. He is in Switzerland. SWITZERLAND! In his defense, he is, at least, planning a trip to New York in the very near future. But to make his wicket even stickier, he’s coming into town (well, not into town, but to the state of New York, anyway) to meet with a lover who doesn’t approve of his polyamory. She doesn’t want to be one of his many. He believes this visit might go south and, I guess, was hoping to perhaps actually go south himself and shop for a new polyamorous lover in Manhattan. Well, that ain’t gonna be me! I was so boggled by his multi-location, multi-lover lifestyle, not to mention how he thought I might actually fit into it, that I couldn’t quite compose myself enough to effectively communicate.

When OKC threw an interesting looking guy at me — I can’t recall if it was a “You might like” or if he popped up in “Activity” — I was intrigued by his screen name, “IamHeAsURme,” and visited his profile, which further intrigued. He was local and listed himself as 6’4″, so I enthusiastically emailed him. I must’ve hit a button by accident because my initial message went out with only one word in it: “Licentious.” It was a word he’d used in his profile. I tried again:

Shit. Why does technology always betray me? 
Anyway. 
I was trying to say: 
Licentious. 
Nice. 
Love that word. 
That is all…

He responded soon after:
I love it when I meet a woman for the first time and the first thing she says is, “Shit” 
I want to tell you right off, that I know exactly what you are doing. 
I too have been around the block my very beautiful sister. 
Every time that someone tells me they “love” something of mine they are really demanding that I give it to them. 
The people who resort to this method of acquiring things know exactly who to prey upon to achieve maximum success and get away with it. 
The good news is that I freely give away my possessions with great joy and you probably suspected that…didn’t you. 
I will give you LICENTIOUS 
But if you want to have it in conjunction with “kiss” 
it’s gonna cost you! 

Despite our match% numbers; when I meander into your bar someday…or run into you on the street or at Burning Man…I believe that we will be enthralled with each other. 
Just a hunch… 
And you are absolutely spectacular. 
That is all…

Again, nice. Very nice. Clever, playful. Smart. I was now beyond intrigued and flat out excited. But I played it cool. I wasn’t quite sure whether he was flirting or kinda blowing me off:
Thanks. 
I think. 
Looking forward to the day that you meander in sometime soon. 
Very soon. 
And ideally in a licentious manner. 
The kiss? Perhaps down that random road…

I gave as good as I got. (Or at least I thought so.) And within 20 minutes he zapped right back at me:
Ah…I have won success! 
It is always good when I meet a women for the second time and her first word is, “Thanks” 
I must warn you that people have called the cops because of the licentious way in which I meander… 
I have since learned to keep it toned down when necessary. 

What is the name of “your bar” and where is it? 
if I may be so bold as to ask… 

Erik with a “k” 

Okay, so now that was flirty. I was even more excited. Not two minutes later he followed up with:
Dear God… 
Enchanted_Love just visited me.

Uh, not sure why he chose to share that with me, but I forged ahead:
Hello, Erik with a “k”, 
I am unable to view Enchanted_Love so I cannot empathize. Is she (he?) a horror? 
Shit and Thanks are both words I use often. Not always in immediate succession. 
Meander licentiously into the Double Down Saloon, 14 Avenue A (any time, but I’m only there on Wednesdays, noon till 8) and enjoy cheap drinks, a punk rock jukebox and seriously disturbing viewing material on the TVs. And me, of course. (Whether or not I am seriously disturbing remains to be seen…) 
Abby without an “e”

I realize that the internet makes seriously strange bedfellows and, well, I’m embarrassed to say that by this point I was really excited. It’s hard to find smart, quick and good looking tall guys in my age group. So yeah. I was already projecting myself into an actual date. True love! Licentious kisses! Ridiculous, I know. Another 20 minutes later he responded:

Dear Abby, (that has a familiar ring) 
Enchanted__Love turns out to be fine and dandy! 
Her name turned my stomach a bit…that’s all. 
I love everyone really…just some people I have to love from afar so I don’t get caught up in their craziness. 
Son of Sam, I would love from afar.. 

I am actually traveling at this time in a Kerouacian manner through the U.S., and I hope to get up to the Big Apple by Summer. 
Of course I know that you have a life and you do not put it on hold for anybody. 
I hope that we can stay in some kind of touch until we might actually meet and see if sparks fly. Two things I can guarantee are; my honesty and loyalty. 
But as always, as you wish… 
With utmost sincerity, 
Rik 
( You said you were without an “e” so here is mine  

Okay, so there are a few things a little off about this. One is that he had already mentioned Enchanted_Love, for no apparent reason; the fact that he went on to elaborate that she was “fine and dandy” was kinda pushing it. His admission that he “loves everyone” was a bit odd and his qualification that he has to love some people “from afar” leads right into his following revelation. He’s traveling? And won’t be in New York City until summer? Um. What? But whatever, as I said earlier, I listed myself somewhere I didn’t live. Giving him the benefit of the doubt, I decided to just play nice:
Hmm, okay. Might I ask why you’re even on a dating site if you’re itinerant? 
I leave every summer for three months in the desert, working for Burning Man. So when you (eventually) meander (licentiously or any other fashion) into Double Down I may not be there. 
Best of luck in your meanderings and whatever else! 
A

His response was genuine:
Why yes you can ask. 
This site not only has people looking for dates and relationships, but also accommodates people who want to find friends, activity partners and long distance pen-pals. I happened to check off all reasons for being on this site except for casual sex. 
I also have found that if I get to know a woman for the sole purpose of forming a relationship/partnership, it always ends up bad. 
That is the way it is for me anyways… 

“Always ends up bad.” Well, that’s telling it like it is. Thus forewarned, I thought I’d play along, you know, as a friend:
I guess the proper question to ask might’ve been Why list yourself in NYC if you aren’t here? I was just in CA for two weeks and similarly sought out “activity partners” so I get that. 

His response ventured a little further into Crazytown:
My profile, (and I have had one in different forms on and off since my divorce in late 2009) travels the English speaking World. My search for kindred souls is not limited to any one local. 
And I in fact am not limited to one place on this planet. Last year I relocated from MA to CA to make a life with someone I met online. 
Unfortunately this lovely woman died unexpectedly this past May. 
I have not been with anybody since. 
I see that you feel misled by me, so I in hopes that it does not happen again, will amend my profile to make things clearer as to my whereabouts or lack thereof. 
Actually, I am going to Burning Man this year for sure. 
I have never been, but have been wanting to go ever since I heard about it. I would love to arrange to meet you there…even if as a fellow tribe member  
Please forgive me for misleading you.

Died unexpectedly? Okay. And I wouldn’t want to limit anyone to one locale but you’re gonna have a tough time finding someone to have coffee with if you’ve listed yourself in, like, you know, a city where you actually aren’t. Even a pen pal needs to know where to send mail. But I was still willing to believe and be one of those pen pals. Though actually meeting up with him in whatever sort of future (or the chaos of Burning Man) seemed to be a bit of a stretch.
Yeah, passing yourself as someone in NYC when you’re not (at all) is kinda lame. Apology accepted though you have yet to amend your profile, thus continuing to mislead others. A shame, since you seem like an intriguing sort. 
Burning Man is months off. I go out there in July and stay till October. We can certainly attempt to meet up, though that’s a tough one even under the best of circumstances (as in two people who already know each other and are REALLY interested in getting together). With 60,000 people it can be difficult…. 
That said… 
Best of luck to you in your perigrinations! 
A

His response, a half hour later:
Hi 
I actually added this paragraph immediately after I messaged you last. 

“Please know that I am likely not in the city my profile represents me to be in, as my search for kindred spirits takes me around the Globe. 
If I so desire, I can relocate anywhere in the free world.” 

I accept your opinion that my actions are lame, but I have had plenty of experiences in NYC to have as equal claim to the City as any who are not native born. 
I also always let people know as soon as a conversation starts where I actually am at the time…as I did with you. Moving my profile around saves me a lot of time as I have learned that my best prospects are those that find my profile, like it and make first contact…as you did. 
Anyways, 
I am the kind of guy who stands out of a crowd of 60,000 so I will see you this Summer! 
Yours Truly, 
Erik the Tall

The Tall? Oh, how I wanted this man to be real. Real and honest and close by!
You can have all the claim you want. But if you aren’t physically HERE why not say where you ARE? Which is WHERE? 
I’m sure you’re awesome. Making it all the more irritating that you aren’t here.

Was I being too enthusiastic? I mean, 6’4″? Was that too good to be true? Even if he was far away? Ten minutes later, he returned the compliment:
I am sure that you are awesome. 
Your awesomeness is inspiring me to finally get to Burning Man. 
I Must Go There.
My profile is now where I am…a lovely place!

So where was he? Alabama. Fucking Alabama.
Be here now. Or wherever you are. I said.
Of course Abby, 
Till when later is here now. 

he said. And a few hours later I noticed that he was no longer in Alabama. He was in LA. Wow, you made it from Alabama to LA in record time! I said to him. In four minutes he said: Ahhh…Thanks for noticing! 
I may make a hop to Honolulu later… 
I met some great Girls in London yesterday. 
I even proposed marriage to one. She said yes…but she called it off when she awakened and sobered up. I of course understand and was not too disappointed. 
I kid you not,

Ooooohkaaay. Okay! Cuckoo? Yup. Fuckin’ nuts. No surprise that the site now says “Sorry IamHeAsURme no longer has an account.” That’s probably a blessing to all the (other) susceptible and gullible gals from Honolulu to London, Alabama to LA and those of us who sincerely wish we could meet a handsome, witty, 6’4″ guy right here in ol’ Manhattan. Maybe he married one of his pen pals. Yup. Him and Manti Te’o.

Stalking

Stalking is an emotionally charged word.

The trouble with writing about it, in a personal context as opposed to a general or societal one, is that it will most likely encourage more…stalking. So I realize that even using the word might result in attracting former, would-be, or those inclined to be stalkers. So yeah. Somewhat counter productive. Or conflicted. But has that sort of thing discouraged me in the past? Hell no. So.

Yesterday at the bar I received a piece of mail. An anonymous piece of mail. See accompanying photo. Once upon a time I might’ve been able to at least figure out what city the letter came from based on the postmark. But in the 21st century there are no more postmarks and all the sleuthing I did failed to find a way to glean that info. The handwriting on the envelope might be an indication but I don’t recognize it.

Among the many things that are odd about this is that there actually is handwriting. Well, printing. Why bother with the “ransom letter” jumble of fonts on the letter and then address the envelope by hand? But more curiously who would take the time? And why? First, a few digressions.

In answer to the question posed by the letter, I would have to say, um neither. The blog post the letter refers to states quite clearly that I have no past loves who could be called “the one that got away.” And who, precisely, might constitute “the ones that never were?” Never were? Does this mean…every man in the world? Every man I’ve ever met? Or met and never dated? Dated and never fucked? Fucked and never saw again? I have no idea.

If the purpose of this letter was to provoke thought, it has succeeded. But hey, I’m always thinking. If the purpose was to creep me out, mission also accomplished. And cause me consternation? Yup! See, I have never been a fan of anonymity. In any context. My first pseudonym was for Selwyn Harris’s Happyland fanzine; I came up with one upon his request. But it was only used once. And I’m pretty sure that I used my real name in the accompanying bio. When I published my fanzine, Porn Free, I invented my EditrixAbby pseudonym but it wasn’t something I hid behind, it was more a “title.” I’ve always argued for personal transparency, believing that if you were doing something you were so ashamed of that it required a false identity, perhaps you shouldn’t be doing it.

When people comment on this blog anonymously, I think it’s chickenshit. If I don’t know you, you don’t need to hide. And if I do know you, why would you want to? Are you that scared of me? Of my purported “supporters?” Contrary to recent commenters who think I can’t tolerate people who disagree with me, I have lifelong friends with whom I often conflict. Seriously. Why does anyone need to be anonymous?

This person, whoever they are, clearly has too much time on their hands. Anyway, back to the stalking topic.

On my trip west for the holidays, I got together with E., the woman who found me through her admittedly somewhat stalkerish methods (and her consequent comments on this post). She’d experienced a less-than-pleasant liaison with my ex and, when he told her about his “estranged girlfriend in New York City,” she wanted to find out more about me. This resulted in an online acquaintanceship that has since become a brick-and-mortar friendship, as well as a mutual admiration; she reads my blog, I read hers. She mentioned that her blog had recently received a number of hits from a reader in Gerlach, NV. Well, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out who that reader is: our common ex. (Given that there are only about 200 people in Gerlach and that the chances of any of them randomly finding her blog are probably zero, a fairly reasonable deduction.) Why on earth he’d be reading her blog — STILL! Lo, these years later! — was a source of amusement for us both. And it made me wonder if perhaps, in his endless idle hours in Nowheresville, Nevada, he was also still reading this blog.

A bit of background: Over the years of our relationship, this man complained quite a bit about his “stalkers.” When I eventually befriended his previous girlfriend (the one before me, that is), she told me she had been trying to reach him because the collection agencies that were after him were driving her crazy and his debt was screwing up her credit. They had co-signed for a car together. She merely wanted him to remove his name from the papers. (And probably do something to redirect all those collection agencies! Not to mention take away all his belongings he’d left behind in her home.) His interpretation of her attempts to reach him for perfectly legitimate reasons as “stalking” seem laughable in retrospect. I will admit that he says — and does — things to cultivate an eternal psychic connection with him. (Which is, of course, why I was reluctant to write this. Best not to feed the troll! But in the interest of over-sharing…)

When I started blogging in the fall of 2011, this man was among my readers. He commented — and not anonymously. His  irrational “fear of stalking” was probably why he blocked me on Facebook yet I wondered why he would spend his time, more than a full year after our “breakup,” keeping tabs on my life. Not that he had anything to worry about, since any stalking behavior was in his head. Well, except for all his own stalking behavior.

But back to this odd, anonymous note. I am, admittedly, super curious. And, perhaps foolishly, flattered. I mean, someone out there took the time to craft the note, print it out (on a color printer!) and slap 45¢ of postage onto the hand-addressed envelope. How special I must be! How valuable the pearls of wisdom I share here must be to this person! Well, that’s what I’m gonna keep telling myself!
[An interesting cyber-aside: WordPress often suggest photos to accompany your blog. For this particular post, WP offered an interesting selection, including two photos of me that Danger Ranger shot at the Golden Spike ceremony, 2008. Precisely why this is extra creepy, beyond the usual "the interwebz knowz stuff and that's creepy" is possible fodder for a future post. The photos appear below.]

6453 – Golden Spike Ceremony (Photo credit: DangerRanger)

6431 (Photo credit: DangerRanger)