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…

Early Signs of Spring?

Sure, there was a blizzard on Friday. It wasn’t a very spring-like weekend, weather-wise. But activity-wise, it most definitely was!

On Friday, my millinery class was cancelled due to “Nemo” so I got my Mardi Gras on and headed over to NYC’s Most Authentic Mardi Gras Party, a fundraiser event coordinated by my friend Wylie. Brother Josephus, a band I first experienced at the same party a few years back, was the headlining act. I’d been, um, charmed by one particular band member. He performed in a white tux with tails, purple gloves, a king crown and goggles. Quite a fashion statement. This year, however, he wore a white t-shirt (like, an undershirt t-shirt), a red scarf and no hat or goggles. Or purple gloves. I didn’t recognize him at all. It left me wondering why he’d, well, let himself go. Maybe he got married. Har-har-har! Anyway, Pinky and I got smashed on hurricanes, stopped for a nightcap and photobooth pix at Double Down, then bumbled home in the snow.

Saturday we donned our matching sparkly pink snakeskin spandex pants and our light-up headpieces for Ominous City’s First Date, a celebration of Chinese New Year and Valentine’s Day. I tended bar and had a blast while Pinky hobnobbed with the other revelers and helped me out as barback. That bash lasted until 5:30am. Gah. But it was the warmest, most wonderful assemblage of humans I’ve experienced in a long time! I can’t wait for the next one! Johnny joined us for a slumber party and Sunday the three of us ordered Chinese in further sobered-up celebration. Then, if you can believe it, I got called into Double Down. I dragged my exhausted ass into the bar at 8 and actually managed to remain vertical until closing time. Thank goodness for the birthday party group that kept me awake.

Ordinarily I would’ve spent Monday sprawled on the couch in recuperation but, alas, I have an upcoming event to promote so I headed east a block for Poly Cocktails. I didn’t last long, but at least I made an appearance! I also met the manager and got to chat up Kat, Larissa, Carin and Dicie — many birds with one stone.

Today I very much wanted to celebrate Fat Tuesday but there just didn’t seem to be an easy way to pull it off. I had an afternoon jewelry making lesson in Brooklyn with the talented Anne Arden McDonald and my party partner Pinky was in class all evening, making planning problematic. Oh well. This holiday passed us by. Though we certainly roullez-ed enough bonne temps on Friday!

And speaking of my party partner, Pinky and I are combining creative forces to form PINKITRIX, making “whimsical costumery and colorful headpieces” as well as offering “party planning for special occasions.” Perhaps our works will soon include my newly acquired (though not quite yet honed) skills of millinery and jewelry making! Wheeeeeeee!

Yeah, I know…not the most exciting blog post. But I’ve been busy! I shipped two tiaras last week in between everything else! Oh! And I think OKCupid has banned me. Probably for promoting my Heart Palpitations event coming this Sunday. The site won’t let me log in, citing “technical difficulties,” but I’m the only person I know who’s experiencing them. Oh well. Maybe it’s time for Christian Mingle. Haharrrahahahhah-aackk! Anyway. Off I go to bed to watch another episode of Downton Abbey on my iPhone!

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!

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.

Less than Positive Profiles

I’ve got a few less than positive passages in my OKCupid profile. I warn men not to contact me if they aren’t near me geographically or chronologically, if they don’t have a photo posted or if they’re married (from whence the “it’s not OKGetMyDickWet” line came, which inspired much virtual venom and nasty comments). I mention these things because it’s easier to say what I don’t want than what I do. I can pretty safely assume that I wouldn’t get along too well with anyone who considers “God and faith” to be an important part of their lives, who can’t spell or punctuate, or who doesn’t know the difference between “your” and you’re.” But as I’ve said before, I have no idea what I do want.

OKCupid lets its users know about recent “Activity” and today it led me to a profile that really resonated with me. I don’t meet the man’s stringent requirements, not by a long shot. But his adamance about not wasting time — his or anyone else’s — as well as the language he uses to express his preferences, sounded oddly familiar:

You should message me if:
You’re free, fit, amazingly intelligent and willing to meet someone new, which I assume is true or you wouldn’t be on this site.
If you know that “easygoing” is one word, know that you don’t put spaces before commas, never write “lol,” don’t use the phrase “soul mate,” don’t list shopping and food among the six things you can’t do without, and don’t say you’re “___ years young,” you may be my type. If otherwise, look elsewhere. The same goes if you say you’re still “trying to figure it all out” at any age above 40. (By the way, if you’re over 40 and any part of your screen name has “girl” or “gurl” in it, I’m gonna wonder about the degree to which your development has been arrested.)
If your profile pic is of you holding your cell phone in front of a bathroom mirror and you have that weird, empty stare while looking at its screen, I’ll think less of you. Sounds fussy? You bet! I’m not a beggar, I’m a chooser, and I’m much too busy dating several women at the moment to waste my time on someone who doesn’t match me completely. It looks as if I’ll be deciding soon whether to make things exclusive with one particularly stunning, fascinating woman, so I’ve got to focus.

Seriously. That sounds like I could’ve written it! Of course, he mentions having received quite a bit of negative feedback. He’s been accused of being “arrogant” and “condescending.” I’m not surprised. People only want to hear about the sunshine and lollipops. This guy can sling the snark but he’s obviously smart and successful and doesn’t need to settle. Or be nice to every woman who emails him. (Though he was very nice to me!) I bet if the genders were reversed he wouldn’t have gone on half the dates I have in the never-ending attempt to give everyone the benefit of the doubt.

So should I delete all my “don’ts”? Should I switch to the sunshine and lollipops? Or is brutal honesty the way to go? I think I’ll stick with the somewhat negative. And hope that there are enough guys out there who’ll “get” me.

Read the rest of this gentleman’s profile here, especially if you’re a female between 38 and 54 living somewhere near Philadelphia, PA!

Always Angry?

One of my recent posts generated many comments and much controversy. It was brought to my attention that I don’t like anyone who doesn’t agree with me. Uh, who does? It also confirmed my belief that most people enjoy the company of like-minded folks. While those commenting — as well as the gentleman I’d been corresponding with — were shocked that I would be “offended” (poor choice of words on my part; I should’ve said “put off”) by, well, anything, everyone I spoke with in person had the same reaction to his words: mouths agape. Humans tend to seek out those who are, in not one but many ways, similar to themselves. I’m sure there are sociological explanations and theories; I just know what I see and experience.

But in addition to these thoughts, I considered their words. Am I always angry? Am I really so closed-minded? I went back through my OKCupid correspondence and found a previous conversation with this gentleman, one that took place back in May, after he had visited me at the bar. I was surprised by how, ummm, pleasant I was to him. Perhaps proving that I’m not always closed-minded or angry.

What a pleasure it was meeting you! And thank you for the gift! (I do hope you weren’t expecting sex. I mean. It wasn’t two bottles of perseco. And you weren’t naked. Hah!) [I am assuming this references an earlier conversation but I couldn't find it.]
It was an enjoyable afternoon. Illuminating, even! Let’s do it again soon!
Abby

no sex? jeeeez! quel donage. 
i had fun as well. 
i was tickled by our physical disparity; i mean, i knew you were statuesque, i just hadnt expected …you. but i liked it. 
tell me when you might be available (i say that nicely) and sure, it would be fun fir you to drink as well. 
m.

Hi M.!
I’ll be celebrating my birthday both this Wednesday and this Saturday after I get off work at Double Down. You’ll be able to meet all my crazy friends if you can show up at one of the two!
I may be deactivating my profile here soon in anticipation of my trip west so feel free to contact me at editrixabby@gmail.com. And you can read about my crazy dating life at http://editrixabby.wordpress.com. Sadly hilarious.
A

dearest abs, 
i did go to the wordpress site and have read about your, um, experiences. poor baby. growing pains at every age. 
i may show up at DD’s wednesday. is there a best time? 
m.

Please, no “poor baby.” I’m not looking for pity. Just tellin’ it like it is!
As for Wednesday, I’d say 6-ish? So you can get a beer from me and then have a beer WITH me!
A

the poor baby was as much for me as for you. i take pity on no one.

So. Not only does this look like I was both polite and, dare I say it, enthusiastic about having met this man, it puts lie to his saying that he wasn’t aware of my blog. He was, indeed, aware and had, indeed, read it. I was wondering where he’d gotten the idea that I’d had so many “wild adventures,” though I suppose one could assume that anyone who works for Burning Man, lives in the East Village and has reached the ripe age of 53 has. The bottom line is that I treated this man well and invited him further into my life. I hate the idea of having to “prove myself” to anyone and I’m embarrassed to say that I was upset by the harsh words of my critics. I am, like most people, hoping to learn and grow.

What, then, is the lesson here? That I shouldn’t post dirty words or talk about sex? Never bitch or complain? Have opinions that differ from, or object to the differing opinions of, others? I’m not sure.

 

Ghost in the Machine?

I’ve recently been receiving messages on OKC that appear to be computer generated, rather than written by real humans. My suspicions are partly due to the fact that the writer didn’t visit my profile at all. True, they could be “viewing anonymously.” But these messages eerily read like those from people who want you to send them your bank account information or other weird spammy type stuff.

Has anyone else been receiving these? What do you make of this?

Hi Cutie, over there just came across ur profile and it was quite ..captivating….. ur.. pics are cool and i felt something so i decided to mail you,perhaps we could find out something quite of a spark btw us. anyway,my ideals of a woman. i want a woman who has a lot emphathy,whos honest and willing to share a lot of love,she should be quite willing to withstand alot of care and loving.she should be a little matured in her dealing with other people,and happenings around her.she should love nature and fun.she must be God fearing. hi cutie do you think we ill make a match?if you do then ill love to hear from you 

There is nothing in my profile to lead anyone to believe I am “God fearing” and, well, might “God fearing” women be more gullible? Are women over 50 being targeted because we may be perceived as more “desperate”? I find the whole thing oddly disturbing…

Exuding Sex

So the other day I had an email exchange with a gentleman on OKCupid. It was, as most of them are, irritating. The conversation culminated with a very long communiqué from him and after all the energy it took to read the damn thing I didn’t have any left to respond. But it gnawed at me. This certainly wasn’t the first instance of miscommunication between the genders and it most definitely won’t be the last. But still. Is there any hope? Our exchange:

i thought you gave up on the whole thing? surely your dance card isn’t empty? 
still serving cocktails at double-your-pleasure?

I did give it up. But I’m back. It’s really the only way I meet people outside my social circle. Empty dance card? Um, I’m not currently sleeping with anyone, if that’s what you mean. And yes, I’m back at Double Down after three months out in the desert.

pity. those tits are too grand to be left alone.

Har har. You’re a real charmer.

oh, like i’m the first to make a comment about your tits. 
c’mon, abs, i think youre adorable.

Nope, just the oldest.

i know that’s not true. and if you’re trying to insult me you can do much better than that. but nothing sticks.
and i have no reason to insult you. why would i?

It was crass. Of course you’re not the first person to comment on my tits. But through the ether it just comes across as offensive.
And yes, as far as I can remember, I have never heard anyone comment about them who was older than I am, the possible exception being construction workers, since I have no idea how old they are. Not an insult, just an observation.

i’m sorry if i offended you.

Thank you.

there is so much i don’t know, and admittedly don’t understand. 
this will be an attempt at a “sweet” email–perhaps even a confessional–but i don’t know that i’ll succeed and i certainly don’t know if it will be received in the spirit in which it’s meant–nicely. 
i’m bothering to take a stab at this because you’re clearly a smart (i might even say “brilliant”) woman, but a paradox, not that they’re mutually exclusive. 
you were offended by my remarks yesterday even though i’m positive you’ve heard (and hear) worse on regular occasions. i wonder–and don’t beat me up for this–if it’s because of the image(s) you project. 
you exude sex, you work in a bar, you’re covered with tattoos, you’ve had a boxcar’s worth of (self-admitted) wild experiences. that a 60-yr old man should comment about your tits should hardly be eyebrow-raising or dare i say it, offensive. 
the paradox, as i see it (and struggle with) is that you want to be treated like “a lady.” 
this gets back to an old (unresolved) argument: can’t a woman wear provocative clothing without the gawks, cat-calls, and crude comments from men? (ans: no.) 
feminists (and i KNOW you’re in that camp; i am TOO!) would say “men have no right (to make comments)” women would say, “what i wear is my business; it makes ME feel pretty, and sexy, etc.” 
there are consequences; we don’t live in a vacuum; we have to deal with all sorts of people from all walks of life with all sorts of sensibilities. 
do “nice” girls flaunt their sexiness? can they not expect remarks–even less-than-nice–from perhaps “nice” men? the answer is delineated along gender–and people of a certain age. you attempted to dress-me-down with my apparent agedness. i could only be amused. 
in july i got into a discussion with a 68 yr old woman (who claimed online to be 62) about what she felt was a patronizing remark i made to, of all people, gloria steinem, only 25 yrs ago. i shared the story of a brief elevator ride i made with gloria at nbc when i was a writer for the Today Show and gloria was trying out for a host position. 
gloria was clearly struggling, she was scowling, and not getting guests to warm up; this was obvious to producers and everyone watching her on-air. at show’s end the two of us were the only people in an elevator cab. she glowered at me as she entered (we didn’t know one another even though i had to feed her copy). i said, “try smiling more.” (i’ve said worse to bryant gumble. ) my 68-yr old friend took umbrage, and she made it a point to say when she shared the story with a 22-yr old, the 22 yr old (who didn’t know who gloria was, and didn’t know the situation. and obviously didnt have the sensibility of a 68 yr old woman (or a 60 yr old male) agreed. 
my point is perception and sensibility. 
you give all the appearance of feistiness; you dish it out but can you take it? 
what i REALLY wanted to say i won’t repeat here because of your sensitivity (and sensibility) to “crassness.” 
it’s an intersting tightrope you walk–not the least of which because of your self-summary opening–and all that you have encountered–and your self-summary closing, and the declaration that the site is not “okgetmydickwet.” 
and i’m crass for invoking your tits? right. 
so let’s review here, shall we? i’ve complimented you on your brains, body, writing capabilities, sensibility and [tender] sensitivities. 
i came to DoubleDown in May because i was curious to see you person. thru the prism of time, your profile, and your rejoinder to my “crass” remark of last night, i’m hard-pressed to find that “lady.” 
i’m glad she exists–if only in your own mind–but i wonder if you don’t get the correspondence you, forgive me, deserve. 
and though you don’t believe it, i say this nicely. 
the eternal struggle of men and women. 
sincerely, 
m.

Okay. forgive me, dear reader, if any of this sounds like a sputter. I was so irked it was difficult to write clearly. And I hope you don’t mind that I address him directly, since it makes more sense that way.

I am capable of “receiving” messages in the spirit in which they were delivered. So thank you attempting to be “sweet.” I am smart and admit to being a paradox right in my profile. I believe most interesting people are multi-dimensional and, ideally, paradoxical. That’s what makes them interesting.

Saying I’ve heard “worse” than your remark about my tits is certainly accurate but that sort of crassness has, in my experience, been either in the bedroom, where it might be considered in context, or in jest from a friend or from some rude stranger on the street. Yours was on a dating site. If you are at all interested in me — getting to know me better, dating me, becoming my friend — I have to ask, is this putting your best foot forward? But I won’t belabor your remark. I found it crass. And there’s really no point in arguing about whether or not I’ve ever heard “nice tits” before. It doesn’t matter. It irked me and that should be enough.

But let’s address the rest of your message, shall we?

Because you think I “exude sex” and work behind a bar, because I am tattooed and have had an interesting life, and because I project an “image” that is, quite frankly, in your head, because everyone sees the world through their own filters, because of all THIS, you find it odd that I might want to be treated like a lady. Well, first off, I don’t give a fuck about being treated like a lady. Most people don’t. But you also seem to believe I have no right to be offended, to have my feelings hurt, to be “sensitive” or experience any other “feminine” emotions. Well pardon the fuck out of me. I’ll make sure to have only feelings that YOU think I should have.

Your digression into what comes off as a “She deserved to be raped cause she was wearing a miniskirt” argument is even more offensive. Just because a woman looks sexy doesn’t mean she wants sex. Or wants to hear your crass comments. It doesn’t mean ANYTHING, really.

I am feisty. Feisty as hell. I dish it out all the time and, believe me, buddy, take it all the damn time too. You think working in that bar is like the fucking Plaza? I’ve fielded a lifetime’s worth of crass, rude, insensitive, hurtful, horrible BULLSHIT from men. And a bit from women, truth be told. But it’s all been live and in person. So how’s this: I don’t want to EVER hear anything sexual from ANYONE on a goddamn dating site. Ever. I am no prude but until I meet someone face to face, we are STRANGERS. And making any sort of assumptions about a STRANGER is just stupid. Dating sites, as I’ve written before, create a false sense of intimacy. Merely because you know my favorite movies or books — or think you’ve accurately perceived the exact, perfect “image” of me — doesn’t mean you know SHIT about me.

[And if I might digress for a moment, when I first met my husband, we discovered that we both liked the movie "Breakfast at Tiffany's." It featured prominently in our early courtship. I had a bagel and a Nutriment in a Tiffany's bag delivered to him at his office; he gave me the book, with the inscription: "Abby, I hope you enjoy 'Breakfast at Tiffany's' as much as I enjoyed dinner at Veselka." The discovery of our common likes (and dislikes) was a pleasant part of getting to know each other, something that is sadly missing with online dating.]

This is why I don’t like to email back and forth forever or, even worse, “chat” on the phone. Either we get together and see if there’s any chemistry or we don’t. And I can usually tell within moments of meeting whether there’s any chance of romance or not.

You came to visit me at Double Down for your various reasons. Was there a spark? Was I interested in you? Um, no. So there you have it. If a friendship is of interest to you, sending me compliments of any sort — cute, crass, coy, whatever — seems pointless. Other than telling me you enjoy my writing, which is how I’ve made a few other friends on OKC, saying nice things won’t get you anywhere. Especially via email.

My “OKGetYourDickWet” comment is to fend off a certain type of person. It isn’t directed at ONE person. And it wasn’t in a “polite” conversation. I am not, for the most part, a lady. So the fact that you haven’t found her, through your “prism of time,” is not surprising. What IS surprising is that you couldn’t just leave it at “I’m sorry I offended you.” Why that wasn’t sufficient — and the end of our irksome exchange — I have no idea. It also pretty much precludes our ever becoming friends. I am reluctant to make any assumptions but if what you were wanting to say, but afraid to due to my “sensitivities,” was something along the lines of “I’d fuck that,” I can tell you that there isn’t a snowball’s chance in hell. Even without your crass remarks and complete inability to grasp the feminine psyche.

Good day, sir!

Online Dating DOs and (mostly) Do NOTs: Profile Pictures

Okay, gentlemen! Listen up! Following my advice will assist this hideous process. Let’s start with those online dating profiles, specifically your photos.

First, DO post a fucking photo. I’m sorry, but there is NO excuse to not have one. I don’t wanna hear that you’re afraid a co-worker might spot you. Why? ‘Cause you’re married? Is it a sin to be single? Shameful? This isn’t FetLife or Nerve. It’s a fucking dating site. Get over it or get a new job. Or a divorce. Or whatever you need to UN-justify not posting a photo.

Do NOT wear sunglasses in your main photo. (I’m breaking this one myself, but I change it often enough…) It obscures half your fucking face not to mention your eyes, you know, “the window to your soul.”

Do NOT use ANY photos that you’ve taken yourself of your reflection in a mirror, especially a bathroom mirror. Don’t you have any fucking friends?

If you wear glasses, wear them in your photo. Don’t be ashamed of, you know, having to fucking SEE!

Do NOT wear a hat in your main photo, especially if you’re fucking bald.

Do NOT post ANY photos that are over a year or two old. Even if you think you were super hot in high school/college/five years ago. WE DON’T FUCKING CARE HOW CUTE YOU WERE IN THE PALEOLITHIC ERA!

Do NOT pose with your fucking motorcycle. If it’s that important in your life, probably best that we find that out later, no?

Do NOT chop someone, especially a woman, out of your photo. It smacks of “I dumped my last wife/girlfriend/lay. Not fucking classy.

Similarly, do NOT blur anyone. I saw one guy’s profile shot and he was with his (little) kids, who were blurred. Why THAT photo? Why not take another without kids? Is it proof that he was capable of reproducing? They could’ve been someone else’s kids. It’s just fucking creepy.

And somewhat similarly, do NOT post blurry photos of yourself! If you can no longer see clearly, fucking ask a friend, “Is this a clear shot of me?” I mean, really.

Do NOT post any photos where you are less than 20% of the shot. If I need a fucking magnifying glass to see your face, pick another photo. The purpose of these photos is so we can see WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE! If we can’t SEE YOU, well, figure it out, bucko.

DO post more than one photo. Obviously everyone picks their BEST SHOT. (Or what they think is their best.) Pick another. It will be different. Maybe five will add up to at least a ballpark vision of what you actually fucking look like.

Okay. That’s all I can write now. I’ve been feeling so incredibly, agonizingly frustrated these days — with online dating, with men, with OKCupid, with the fucking season. I would give it all up (again) but I’m not really a quitter. And I already KNOW everyone I know. Ya know? How else to meet new people? Specifically single men who might want to sleep with me. More than once. Fuck.