Monthly Archives: April 2011

Idiots, Updated

Greetings, dear readers! Yesterday was an amazing day, a day of cognitive dissonance. I don’t have time to write about it today but stay tuned. In the interim, I’ll fill you in on the latest online hilarity.

The first exchange is an update from one of the idiots I was “schooling” in my previous post:

Why don’t you let me see your pictures so I know what I’m missing? [This is paraphrased, since Ashley Madison deletes your messages beyond the last 10. Argh!]

I don’t have secret photos. I have photos online. [Again, paraphrased.]

Just one though.

Actually, there are five. Click on the arrows.

 Great shall do.

Extremely curious about you and would love to learn more about you and what you are looking for. Your profile says a lot but I suspect there is a lot more. How do I find you?

Still wondering, but will be patient.

You seem so very nice and I appreciate your openenss. Where oh where do you live? [This one almost made me do a spit-take. I seem very nice? I wonder what the hell his now-deceased “lover” was like! She must’ve been Cruella deVille! That email I sent him was so far from nice I’ve characterized it as the most brutal communiqué I’ve ever written!]

We thought you’d like to know that “david9105” has added you to the ‘Favorites’ section of his Profile. [Really? I’m one of his favorites? Really. Wow.]


Okay, so now what do I do? I’ve already written to him to disabuse him of any notion of ever meeting me? How much more brutal can I be?

And this exchange is between myself and “Alex,” a single guy in New Jersey. I believe the photo accompanying his profile is a shot of him golfing. That, in itself, should have served as a warning. His emails were very curt and felt, on my end, a bit bossy. I did my best to reply politely until the very end. The first email volley between the two of us was deleted by my friends at Ashley Madison. I believe his consisted of something along these lines: “hello, love your pix” or “hi wanna chat” – without caps or punctuation. And I’m sure my response was “Thank you!”) The conversation continued thusly:

We thought you’d like to know that “A1177” has added you to the ‘Favorites’ section of his Profile.

Hi Abby I emailed u wondering if u got it my e is Alex

I did, indeed, and responded!

We thought you’d like to know that “A1177” has added you to the ‘Favorites’ section of his Profile. [I didn’t realize I could be “favorited” more than once! This guy can’t keep his finger off the “favorite” button!]

hey there whats up

Why would you waste credits by asking “What’s up?” Do you have anything to say that might inspire me to respond to you? Yes, I’ve responded. At this point it’s almost anthropological.

u look perfect 

lets cut the bull 555 555-1234 im Alex 

Hello Abby
sorry I got off on the wrong foot with u  so 2 speak  last night   but I did begin by saying that I thought u looked perfect   

Hi Alex!
And thank you for thinking I look perfect. I can assure you I’m not! As you’ve already seen, I have a tough time keeping my mouth shut!
Perhaps you’re typing on a gizmo? That always makes me more brief. Either way, I’m happy to try the other foot!

I’ll  b in the city 2morrow 4          the auto show    would u like 2 have lunch

I have lunch plans…and after work plans. Will you be spending the night? (Can’t recall where you live…)
Could do lunch on Thursday!

Iif u wanna do lunch 2morrow   call 555 555 1234   best I got 2 offer

I’m sorry, I said I had plans.

If you’ll still be around at 7 I could meet you for drinks…or dinner. Best I have to offer.

I think its time we chat   555 555 1234   don’t b scared im cool

will u call already

If you haven’t already noticed, I do not respond well to orders.
Move along.
There’s nothing to see here.

Last chance

Hahahahahah fuck off.


I must admit, I am really enjoying this newfound ability to just blow guys off. “Alex” is single, so don’t think — again — that my blow off-ability is reserved just for the attached. Perhaps it’s the sheer numbers of potential suitors that is allowing me to feel the need to be nice to everyone. Or maybe I’m finally capable of responding to rudeness with more rudeness. I’m not sure it’s a good thing, in the end, but it sure feels exhilarating!


And further proof that men will keep butting their heads against that brick wall, two separate emails post the “fuck off”:

U should.nt talk like that

Hey abby

You have proven yourself to be rude and bossy.
As I said, move along, nothing to see here.

Careful, You’re Emailing a Callous Cunt!

Holy fucking christ-on-a-trampoline. It just keeps getting more and even MORE hilarious! I’ve been dying to fill you all in on another dozen ridiculous dicks and share more embarrassing bathroom mirror self-portraits but some of the emails I’ve been receiving are even more laughable. Check out these tools:

My name is “Dave.” I found your lovely posting today and I thought I would reply in hopes that we might have something in common. I had been in a committed monogamous ten year relationship – the best ten years of my life – but my lovely lady passed away earlier this year. The time is not yet right for me to start a new relationship like I had with her but I do miss the intimacy – of conversation and of the body – and I miss the loving, the caring, the fun and excitement of two people who completely enjoyed being with each other. Frankly I am hoping to find someone through Ashley Madison who can share those feelings with me but who is not looking for a long term commitment (at least not right at this moment). The timing is just not right yet for me but I hope that will change with time.
I am retired after 40 years of professional work as a project manager for large companies around the world. I love to travel, love the City but also love the beach, boating, the mountains, skiing. And I love to love! I know you said almost never older but that you might be convinced otherwise. I do believe you will find me incredibly young at heart and young in body. In fact my lover often just referred to me as her “teenager”!
My home is on the North Fork of Long Island, I am often in Northern New Jersey and in the City visiting with family and friends and I can travel pretty much anywhere in the Northeast to visit with the right person. If you find what I have said to be interesting, please email me back in some detail, telling me a little more about yourself, and perhaps if there is mutual interest, we could arrange to meet somewhere for a no-commitment cup of coffee or a drink.
Looking forward to hearing from you,


Hello, “Dave,”
Let me get this straight. You’re a 64-year-old widower who isn’t interested in a long-term relationship. What do you have to offer me? A no strings attached roll in the hay? Why on earth would I want that? Especially with someone so much older? When I’m getting emails from 27-year-olds? Mind you, I have no interest in anyone that young. But I also have no interest in anyone that old. I’d prefer someone close to my age, someone I have something in common with. What, pray tell, do you think we might have in common? Do you go out to parties every weekend til 4am? Do you enjoy dressing up in costumes and dropping E? Do you drink in East Village dive bars? Have you been to Burning Man? A sex club? Bonaroo? Coachella? Figment?
Your “lover” said you were “her teenager.” Well, that may have been. But you clearly aren’t. Obviously neither am I but I would NEVER “market” myself as such. Get a grip, man! Please re-read what you wrote me and think it through before you email the same thing to someone else. You say you want intimacy but to what end? We create that intimacy to NO end? What would be the point?
Why aren’t you on a regular dating site looking for people closer to your age? Wouldn’t that make more sense? With possibly better results? Why would you be on a site designed for married people to have affairs?
I’m sorry to be so abrupt and callous but I feel like it’s my obligation to ask “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU THINKING?!?!”
Do yourself a HUGE favor and join or some other dating site that is NOT about affairs! That isn’t about people looking for a quick fuck or a sugar daddy arrangement or some other screwed-up situation. You’re obviously a very nice man. Don’t subject yourself to this sort of bullshit.
If you’re really just looking for a one-night stand, you might be better served hiring a hooker. Seriously. I can’t imagine there’s much demand for a 67-year-old guy looking for random sex. Holy shit what is this world coming to?
Best of luck to you.

This guy was not only old but short. Like 5’4” short. That is SHORT. His opening salvo:

The picture of you toasting my health got my blood up. Wonder Woman incarnate! (5’10’ , Riviting in a skirt and Boots) I’m by Van Cortland Pk. Where are You?
You’ve had a different experience than I. I’ve become jaded in that I’ve met no one. Its all a slide show.

So I checked out the guy’s profile. Here are his stats:
Age: 59
Location: Yonkers, New York, United States
Height: 5’4″ (163cm)
Weight: 130 lbs (59kg) – Fit
My Limits are: Whatever Excites Me
Status: Single Male seeking Females
Gender: Male
Ethnicity: Hispanic

FIVE FOOT FOUR? Does he represent the Lollipop Guild? I respond politely:

Thank you for your kind words. Haven’t we met on OkCupid? I’m afraid 5’4″ is just a little too short for me, even with your Wonder Woman fantasies!
Best of luck in your search!

And the ballsy little gnome comes back with:

A fond recollection not a fantasy. 5′ 8” and 170 was the Juno I dated for awhile. SHE convinced me that not every amazon views me as a troll, O well, No attack submarine for you.
Good Luck

No attack submarine for me? Are we playing in the bathtub? And WHY the hell do short guys feel compelled to tell me about the other TALL women they’ve dated? Like I give a shit! I have, literally, dozens of guys to choose from here in the erotic ether. Why would I want a gnome? I did need to give him kudos, though:

Congratulations on such healthy self-confidence! My loss, I guess!

Yeah, right, my loss. NO submarine attack for me! (Said in the voice of NO SOUP FOR YOU!) Bwahahahahaha! Oh man… Guffaw!

Here’s another older man attempting to convince me to adjust my desires for him:

You sound wonderful but before I go any further, I’m curious why you are on a sight where most men are attached. I am a caring, giving, sensitive mature man that seems to be on the same page with you in every other way. Please respond even if not interested.

I have a number of reasons for being on this site… I can’t say I’m interested. Most of the men on here lead alarmingly dull lives, even those far younger than I am. I move at a fairly fast pace…

Thanks for responding. Give it some thought as I think you will be very pleasantly surprised. I don’t mean to sound conceited but I may just be what you are looking for. As to your reasons, perhaps you want to share a few with me. As to the age issue, experience in life comes from having been around and learning what pleases one emotionally as well as physically. Take a shot. Incidentally, where do you live? Again, thanks for responding, it makes be believe you are real.

I can assure you I am VERY real. I am also not at all interested. Seriously? You’re 67. And married. How do you figure you could possibly be “what I’m looking for?” I have lived an extremely wild life and have had plenty of experiences, including well over 100 sexual partners, many of whom most definitely knew how to “please me.” Conceited isn’t the word. More like deluded. I appreciate your self-confidence and suggest you use it to find someone closer to your age who is married as well. As a single woman I don’t need to even come CLOSE to compromising. If your photo doesn’t immediately appeal to me, you aren’t over six feet tall, between the ages of 40 and 53, you don’t type out exactly the most perfect words to charm me and motivate me to respond to you, well, what can I say but DELETE!
Forgive my harsh response. I’ve been receiving so many of these emails and find them so appalling that I feel obligated to at least attempt to set men straight. You, of course, are obviously free to also hit “delete.”
Best of luck in your search.

And just to prove that I’m not just discriminating against older dudes, I got this email from a 28-year-old attached guy. Wait. He’s TWENTY-EIGHT? And MARRIED? And ALREADY looking to cheat on his wife? Oy fuckin’ vey.

This is my first time messaging anybody on this website, your smile drew me right in 🙂 You sound like an extremely fun person to be around! I incredibly enjoyed your profile, it had a real voice to it. While my profile may be lacking I hope to make up for it with this message. I’m 28, live in Manhattan, absolutely love live music and am currently finishing up grad school at Columbia. I’m not here to find just anybody but would rather meet someone who is intelligent enough to articulate their wants, needs and desires. I think communication and chemistry are essential to developing a transcendent connection with someone, even be it brief. I would also like to share some fantasies and fulfill some along the way 🙂
Hope you’re having a wonderful day!


Thank you for your kind words! I’m flattered that I was the first person you reached out to. However, I have to question, why me?
Your email was very thoughtful and surprisingly well-written. So many people sound illiterate on this site (and others). I appreciate your quest for a transcendent connection and everything that goes along with it. May I suggest you try to find that with someone closer to your age? You mention fantasies…I have years of experience in adult entertainment and intimately understand fetishes, fantasies and sexual desires. Yours may feature an older, mature woman. Unfortunately, mine do NOT feature ME being cast in that role. I don’t want to be anyone’s mom, teacher, best friend’s grandma or anything similarly depressing. Perhaps when you’re older you’ll understand. Of course then you may be one of the sad-sack 67-year-olds emailing me, still, about your fantasies! I certainly hope not!
I’m sure there are quite literally hundreds of women on here eager to be your older woman. I’d bet you’ll have better luck with the married women whose husbands are, perhaps, less able to please them sexually or with less stamina. I’m single, so I can pretty much sleep with whoever I want! Ya know what I’m sayin’?
Anyway, best of luck in your search!

I’ll be sure to update you all when and if these guys respond… And yes, I AM, indeed, a totally callous, unfeeling cunt. Better me than you!

Married Man Marathon Derailed!

Tonight’s “date” told me he would be in a class til 8:30. He texted me a half-hour earlier and I didn’t check my phone til 8:15. By then he was already on his way home. To be honest, I had totally forgotten about meeting him. Originally we were going to get together before his class. But I have been having a helluva time keeping all these faceless torsos straight!

If this texting exchange doesn’t put you to sleep, you will probably find yourself asking why I bother… [Everything is written as it was texted. No edits.]

Hey – its Sam. Up for that how ya doin beverage – or another night?

Are you done with your class?
I’m not in Chelsea, I’m further north. Where are you?

Okay then. Guess you went home. You’d said 8:30. Sorry I missed you!

Hey – yeah… Was kinda slowly walking to the train in the rain. I’m sure I just missed you by seconds lol. Oh well – hopefully you’ll give me another shot?!


So you’re sayin there’s a chance!? Oh yeah!

Well I feel a little like you blew me off. But whatever!

No – really. I was just kinda standing there for a good 1/2 hour thinking the same thing…

You told me 8:30. You texted me before 8. I responded before 8:30. So I didn’t blow you off. It’s cool, no worries. You need to get back to a wife and suburbia!

I live on the upper upper east… No suburbia for me lol!

Well what’s your hurry then? You couldn’t give me 15 minutes? Sorry. Go home.

Well just cause its not suburbia doesn’t mean I didn’t have to be home. Its cool – sorry if I peeved you

I forget everyone else is on a tight leash.

Yeah… Its kinda true. Gimme another shot. I’m a good guy (lol!)

Well, no offense, but given the circumstances it’s tough to believe you’re THAT good of a guy. You do realize we connected on a site for people looking to cheat on their spouses. That said, I’m sure you’re a nice guy. But if we schedule another meeting and you text me a half hour early and then head home, well, that won’t really work for me. I was ready to meet up at or after 8:30 as you’d said. Ya know?

Ok – goooood point on the spouse thing…

I did say 8:30. Thought I said 8. That is certainly my bad…

No worries. I had said we’d meet up before your class. Which I probably could’ve but I spaced…

Well – where there’s a will there’s a way. We can try again.

We can.

Married Men Marathon: Part Deux

I gotta say, I have good taste! Even when it comes to screening out idiots on dating sites and finding charming, intelligent and engaging gentlemen! (None of whom have posted any genitalia, bathroom mirror reflected or otherwise!) My dating marathon continues:

Yesterday was dinner with “Cal,” who was not only as impressively tall in person as he promised online but even better looking than his photo! Conversation came easily and he was most definitely a smart, successful guy. I won’t go into his personal life for fear of “outing” him, but I will say he is both married and actively seeking, if not an immediate affair, at least what might be “out there.” While we both abstained…from alcohol — heh — so there was no chance of drunkenly tumbling into bed, I could imagine such things happening…eventually.

Today was lunch with “Bob,” also married, and also quite delightful. There were no awkward silences and he was just as appealing in person as he’d been online. His situation is somewhat different but at least it sounded to me as though he and his wife communicate about such things. Hmmm, that’s rather obtuse. Anyway, suffice it to say that, again, though the meal was sober and did not lead to an episode of “afternoon delight,” it would not be beyond the realm of possibility.

On both dates, conversation jumped from politics to business, the city vs. the suburbs, personal histories and careers. Online dating, and Ashley Madison in particular, were the main focus, for obvious reasons. It seems that everyone who “does this” is eager to share their experiences, good, bad or otherwise. Both men had been on the site longer than I and both had been on a few dates. However, neither had managed to wind up in bed with anyone. So this makes — what is it now? — seven men I’ve met, each in various stages of committed relationships, none of whom had actually experienced the successful affair promised by Ashley Madison. I may need to expand my research to women and find out who is having sex with the men they meet and under what sort of circumstances these affairs take place. Someone must be getting laid! Why is that the men I’m connecting with aren’t?

I expected that I might feel like these encounters are “grocery dates” (meeting men merely for the free meals) but I haven’t, as I firmly believe I have much to offer, even if sex isn’t on the menu. Every guy I’ve met has been leading a far more “normal” life than mine so, at the very least, I’m able to open some doors, suggest some exciting activities or even just talk to them about what life is like as a single person. Imagine if you hadn’t dated in a couple of decades! As I said in my (many) reasons for being on the site, we all can use the practice. Hopefully these guys agree. Thus far, lunch-by-the-light-of-day dude was the only one not interested in seeing me again. So stay tuned!

In addition to these dates, I actually have been doing, well, ya know, other things! And it’s a damn good thing the weather has gotten better, so I don’t mind being out so much. I’d found myself in quite the nesting “rut” for a while there! Monday night I went to dinner with a friend and helped him create a profile on OkCupid. Yesterday I went to lunch with another friend who I met on OkCupid. And I’m on my way now to meet a guy from OkCupid for the first time. So even my social life outside this crazy-ass marathon seems to be centered around online dating! I guess I’m making this project my “job,” since I don’t happen to have one! If only I could find something to which I might apply myself to with this much enthusiasm and concentration! Someone needs to hire me as a dating columnist! I could do wonders for the world of bumbling idiots out there in the ether! Hello, anyone reading this with an actual JOB? Sigh… Onward!

Married Man Dating Marathon


My fingernails are dirty. My apartment is coated in dog hair from the two crazy, NON-paper-trained dogs I’m fostering. I haven’t had a legitimate job since 1996. I don’t shave…anywhere. And I use the word fuck, like, every fucking minute. I’m clearly not appropriate for mainstream consumption. So it came as no surprise that “Jim” didn’t feel any “sexual chemistry” with me after our lovely lunch yesterday.

Let me start over. As you all know, dear readers, I’ve been doing some mad online dating. My recent membership on the cheating people site has brought me a digital landslide of attention and I’ve been juggling married dudes eager to take me…to lunch, to dinner, to bed. It was tough scheduling dates when I wasn’t even in town but now that I’m back from my adventure at Coachella, I’ve got illicit suitors lined up for days.

I met with “Bill” Saturday night, en route to see a friend’s band. I wouldn’t ordinarily “waste” a weekend evening on a stranger but, what the hell, I was already dressed up and out on the town!

We met for beers at 2A, convenient and cheap, though I wasn’t all too happy about a blind date in the daylight. “Bill” was pleasant enough and he was entertained when I regaled him with my previous evening’s swing club story. (I know, poor form to talk about other dates — or so says YourTango — but it was too hilarious not to share!) Apparently “Bill” has been living in some sort of bubble for the past few decades as he was completely unfamiliar with swing clubs. And swinging in general. When I finally asked if he’d ever heard of Plato’s Retreat, he nodded, still unsure. “So people go to these places to…have sex? In private rooms?” No, I told him, in front of each other. He didn’t understand.

We did enjoy each other’s company, even if it would never be a love connection. Or any other sort of connection. However, when my friend Sandra showed to accompany me to see my friend’s band, I felt somewhat relieved. “Bill” was my first real actual married man, if I am to believe the previous three and their purported statuses. (Stati?) He didn’t seem to be hell bent on actually having an affair. He appeared to just be looking for interesting company.

So that was Saturday. I took Sunday off from my dating frenzy because it was a holiday. And I was in New Jersey. (I’d make a crack about the lord resting on the seventh day but I’ve only just begun my married man marathon.)

On Monday I’d arranged to meet “Jim” for lunch. He chose a quiet little spot in the West Village with an outdoor garden in back and, since it was such a warm day, we decided to dine al fresco. Again, I wasn’t all too happy about a blind date by the light of day, but what else can you do at lunchtime? “Jim” was as tall in person as he’d said he was and somehow far more distinguished. His online photo made him appear a little awkward; there was nothing awkward about him as he sat across the table from me. We enjoyed lunch and a frank discussion about online dating, affairs and the complex process behind meeting someone and where it eventually might lead.

During our conversation there was a mention of his having dated models, not in an arrogant way, just matter of fact, and I made a mental note that perhaps I wasn’t quite polished enough for this man. His hands looked softer than mine and his nails were most definitely cleaner! But lunch was enjoyable. After we’d finished eating, we stood on the sidewalk outside the cafe. “Jim” took my hand and, shaking it gently, told me that it had been a pleasure meeting me but that he hadn’t felt any sexual chemistry. He delivered that news quite frankly, looking me straight in the eye. Oddly enough, I wasn’t at all insulted. It was so honest and polite I couldn’t be. But it was a bit sobering.

As I walked away I recalled, again, that all of my successful sexual encounters — or relationships, for that matter — had taken place with alcohol or drugs involved, so it wasn’t surprising that a lunch date in the glare of the noon sun hadn’t resulted in a quickie, or even the desire to meet again. I’m not sure I would’ve said the same thing about “Jim.” He was pretty handsome. And exceedingly tall. His preemptive dismissal of me alleviated any need for me to dismiss him. But I doubt we’d have been a good match.

While some might think “How awful,” my take-away was that this was precisely one of the reasons behind my dating marathon in the first place: This was practice and I was learning not to take rejection personally, something which, I’m embarrassed to admit, I haven’t been able to master in my previous five decades.  So though I won’t be seeing “Jim” again, I considered the date a success.

Why Am I On Ashley Madison?

The question has come up a few times now: What’s a single woman doing on Ashley Madison? Sure, there are a few other unfettered folks on there but the site’s tag line is, after all, “Life is short. Have an affair.” It’s a hook-up service for the hitched. I have a few reasons for putting a profile up on this tacky “cheaters’” site and none of them are what I would classify as simple.

Let’s start with the fact that I’ve been single for a year now and mostly unhappy about it. My last boyfriend and I split primarily due to circumstances. He had a job in California, I needed to be in New York. We didn’t really have a “let’s break up” moment. There wasn’t a neat and tidy “end.” Even today, after all this time, I believe I’m still in love with him. And that lingering love has been a serious obstacle in my pursuit of…happiness. Between loving him and moving on. And eventually falling in love with someone else.

Thus I’ve been dabbling in online dating and have experienced the most luck with OkCupid. But it’s been so long since I’ve felt attracted to anyone that I don’t even know what it feels like anymore. And since I’ve never really dated – in the old-fashioned sense of the word, where a woman meets a guy who asks her out on an actual date – I truly don’t know how to conduct myself. So I’m getting some practice. Like going on an interview for a job you don’t want.

It’d be too easy to say that the average attached, Ashley Madison man is taller and better looking than the single losers I’ve been finding online. However, it appears to be true. I could quote all the studies and stats that say married men make more money and it’s not difficult to grasp that if a person experiences success in one aspect of their life, other successful aspects logistically follow. And I certainly don’t want to get into the whole “All the good ones are taken” conversation but, man, sometimes it sure seems like they are. That a man is “taken” does not, in any way, make him more appealing to me. In fact, just the opposite. But some of these guys are pretty damn appealing!

I’ve felt less pressure to find “the one,” mostly because so many of these men are married. I can experiment with finding “chemistry” without all the other crap. On “regular” blind dates (which all online dates, essentially, are) the pressure involved with sitting down across from a stranger and immediately asking “Do I want to fuck/marry this guy?” can be too much. Who can live up to those sort of expectations? Shouldn’t it be more about “Do I enjoy this person?” and have the future be reassuringly amorphous (as it always, realistically, is….) Of course, the obvious drawback would be “clicking” with or, god forbid, falling in love with, someone who’s inconveniently married.

My favorite aspect of being on Ashley Madison is how easily I’m able to be brutal. The guy’s 5’8”? Delete! He doesn’t know the difference between “your” and “you’re”? Delete. His opening salvo is “Hey, baby, wanna play?” Goodbye. He sends me his “private showcase” key, which reveals the dreaded headless naked bathroom mirror self-portrait. DELETE! I feel no obligation to give anyone the benefit of the doubt. He’s just some married dude! Of course, given that there is the odd single guy, I could accidentally delete a potential dream date. But why bother if he doesn’t make the cut? I’m not quite sure why I’m so much less callous on OkCupid. Why I feel a need to be polite on singles’ sites that I don’t feel on Ashley Madison. Being ruthless is sublimely liberating! I can tell him his photos are embarrassing; that he does not, as a matter of fact, look 10 years younger; I have no problem saying, “Yo, dude, that was kind of offensive!” I love not really giving a shit if a guy writes me back, calls me again or blows me off completely. Dirty hair, dirty laundry, who the hell cares? There wasn’t any hope for a future with the guy anyway. The surprising thing is that most of these men seem to actually appreciate the honesty! I guess it’s one more thing that’s been missing in their lives. Which leads me to:

There are hundreds of men on Ashley Madison who have been “imprisoned” by their lives: marriages, wives, kids, jobs, BORING or stagnating or otherwise suffocating existences. I have been living – and continue to live – a pretty wild life by comparison to most and even emailing me – or meeting me for a drink — seems to “satisfy” an “I’m looking for…something” craving these men have. Who knows what will happen next? Maybe I’ll scare the guy back to his wife. Maybe I’ll inspire him to get that inevitable divorce. At the very least I hope to be able to give people a little taste of what their life isn’t, a glimpse of what they may be missing, and what they THINK they want but perhaps don’t, really, in the end.

I’d be guilty of telling only the partial truth if I didn’t admit to being somewhat interested in a few free meals…or free beers. These married dudes have jobs and money, in addition to their wives, and if they’re looking to hang out with someone who might give them a little thrill – be it in bed or a Starbucks — why not make them pay? Honestly, I’m not that much of mercenary. But it does make it easier to rationalize accepting the “charity.”

So you see, my motivations are somewhat complicated. I love to meet new people. I love to help people. Maybe it’s the closeted shrink in me. I’m not sure. I enjoy being enjoyed…appreciate feeling appreciated. In the end, it’s all an ego boost. And then some guy writes me a poem. No one’s ever written me a poem. And I cry. Maybe that’s why I’m Ashley Madison.

Swing Club Blind Date

Last night I went to a swing club with a stranger. I know, you’re probably thinking “WHAT WAS SHE THINKING?!” Obviously it was going to be a win-win situation; regardless of how good or bad, disastrous or hilarious the date turned out to be, it would definitely make good blog fodder! And though it wasn’t quite what I expected, it was, indeed, excellent fodder! Dear readers, I give you: Almost the Worst Date Ever!

A bunch of friends and I had been drinking at my apartment for hours, so I was properly prepped when I met “Greg” at a bar a few blocks away. Three of those friends were sitting a few feet from me, my back-up plan if “Greg” was a no-show. He was 15 minutes late, but he did show. And after I slugged back my Stella, we caught a cab uptown to Checkmate.

I bet you think I’ve been to every swing club in the city dozens of times but, in fact, I haven’t. Why pay exorbitant prices to watch strangers screw when you can produce your own orgy and hand-pick the players? So, no, I’d never been to Checkmate. As we hopped out of the cab, scanning buildings for the street address, the Lips doorman took one look at us and asked, “You looking for Checkmate?” Geez, were we that obvious? “Downstairs,” he said, pointing to an anonymous business-ish door. We rode the elevator down and “Greg” paid the $90 cover for himself; apparently women are always free.

The little lobby was bright white, festooned with pastel-colored balloons. As we pushed through the door into the club, a brightly-lit room, all white, white Formica bar, white upholstered couches with hot pink flower throw pillows and a stripper pole surrounded by a pink and white splattered dance floor, the Easter motif continued. The ceiling was thick with the pastel balloons, polka dot paper lanterns and festively curled ribbons. I’m a sucker for a theme but it felt oddly like a baby shower. Or children’s birthday party. With a bit of Russian mobster vibe to it.

I checked my coat while “Greg” gave the barmaid “my” bottle of vodka. He ordered a Diet Coke, warning me ominously, “You don’t want to see me drunk.” Good thing I was already drunk! Looking around, I made a wisecrack about the furnishings. Supposedly they redecorate often. How about immediately? Beyond being blindingly white, there were no other guests to blunt the glare. Yup, “Greg” and I were the only two people in the place.

My date had seated himself a barstool away from me, perhaps to better appreciate my beauty, telling me I was “pretty” and “sexy.” I asked if he’d mind if I moved closer. Since I had warned him in our preliminary emails that the chances of us having sex were absolutely zero, he wasn’t expecting anything, but I thought it might be nice if he were close enough to actually hear my witty repartee.

DJ Batcho (rhymes with macho…and nacho) was spinning some real chestnuts. “Greg” seemed to think he was the best DJ in the world. Oy. Evidently “Greg” is a swing club regular, frequenting not only Checkmate but Le Trapeze and Carousel, mostly back when he was married. I was a little surprised to hear that “Greg” was divorced. Guess I’d missed the “single” on his profile and assumed he was “attached” like just about every other guy on Ashley Madison.

Small talk was strained and sporadic. Not that I had much to say. There wasn’t any chemistry. My date didn’t seem too interested in chatting beyond his desultory flattery. I had more conversation with the sexy 22-year-old Russian barmaid. An hour into the evening there were only three or four more couples. I felt like I was in some special sort of frustrated sex maniac’s hell.

When I told “Greg” I wasn’t sure I could take much more of the excitement, he said if I left he’d have to leave too, so I stuck it out a while longer. I’d had about five vodka crans — on top of the six-pack or so I’d had at home — so I was feelin’ pretty sauced. But eventually even the Easter candy couldn’t hold me and I really had to get out of there, so I grabbed my coat and slipped out the door, jumping into the elevator before “Greg” caught up with me. I hailed a cab as quickly as I could and disappeared into the night. By the time I beat my hasty retreat, there were less than 20 guests in the club and no one had even been making out, much less stripped down or started screwing. Sigh. I guess Good Friday isn’t a big night for swinging. It was huge disappointment.

Perhaps the most hilarious part of the story is that “Greg” emailed me to see if I’d like to go to another swing club with him! WTF?

Abby’s Coachella Recap

This was my second year at Coachella to help my friend Rob with his consistently inspiring art project, Balloon Chain. Attendees are always super excited about the balloons! They have a million questions, one of which is always, “Are they hard to hold onto?” When we hand them the big carabiner at the end of 50 to 350 balloons and say, “Here, feel for yourself!” they freak out. “Really? I can hold the balloons?” It’s pretty surprising just how thrilled people can be about holding onto a giant string of balloons. I suppose it’s because they aren’t often given the opportunity to interact with art. But it sure is a great feeling handing them that carabiner! Such a simple piece that brings so much joy.

Both my trips west were to work, as opposed to actually attending the festival, because I can’t imagine paying for the event; I prefer to work “behind the curtain.” I’m not that big of a music fan and, if I were, I’d rather pay to see the band(s) I like and not be subjected to the sound-bleeding din. Also, I’m a little outside the average 20-something demographic (and am generally annoyed by too many of them in one place). However, I had a great time this year! I can’t put my finger on precisely why it was better than last and imagine it was a combination of many things, most importantly that our crew was more cohesive and the work was not only easier — due to the less windy weather — but more organized — due to my masterful scheduling…hah!

Anyway, I have a feeling everyone in attendance experienced a more enjoyable event this year. I found it was superior for a  number of reasons:
* they opened up more space, which included an extra DJ stage
* 10,000 fewer people (last year there were, apparently, 10,000 counterfeit wristbands)
* better, more spacious camping layout (attendee-specific)
* less aggro vibe (inexplicable…perhaps the 10,000 fewer people? more space?)
* better weather, less wind
* bands that seemed genuinely glad to be playing, regardless of their level of fame
* that fuckin’ amazing FULL MOON!

Asking a guy who wanted to hold the balloons about one of his beaded bracelets with a girl’s name on it, “Who is Rainbow?” (or somesuch), he replied, “She’s a raver I met at blahblahblah” and immediately launched into his PLUR rap, grabbing my hand and doing the “peace, love, unity, respect” motions (peace sign, heart shape, finger clasp and hand clasp), then sliding one of his raver bracelets onto my wrist. Doooooood…

When Duran Duran sang “Rio” and everyone was shouting the chorus! Their entire set was pretty exhilarating.

Bizarre that I needed to travel 3,000 miles to see a local NYC band. Imagine an eight-piece, interracial ensemble decked out in matching mariachi outfits, performing original Mexican-folk-inspired music! Mariachi el Bronx were thrilled to be playing and incredibly impressive!

There were a whole bunch of hand-painted trash cans for recycling and I admired one in particular. Fifteen minutes later I was talking to the woman! She had stopped to hold onto the balloons and was wearing a name tag that matched the one on the beautiful flowered bin!

The Scissor Sisters opened with a total BANG and lots of giant silver mylar snaky things shooting over the crowd. It was like fireworks you could touch!

This is always a tough call, since all the art is pretty amazing. As for basic “art” (well, Coachella/Burning Man-type art) I’d have to say Michael Christian‘s amazing hula dancing trees were my favorite. They were totally trippy; just looking at them made me feel like I was on mushrooms! I also loved the LED flowers, which I kept thinking were fireworks. (I can’t seem to find the name of the artist.)

Untitled, a physical manifestation of the Spiritualized song “Ladies and Gentlemen, We Are Floating in Space,” by Jonathan Glazer and J. Spaceman, was enormous, ambitious and corporately funded (as opposed to merely Coachella funded) but it was mind-blowing. After waiting on a fairly long line, I entered the chapel-like space, which was entirely black inside. I was completely engulfed by a sound system playing a piece of music and almost blinded by super-bright shafts of light shooting down onto the floor from five “windows” in one side of the ceiling. They were like looking up at heaven. When I stood where they “hit” the floor, I heard different “slices” of the song, almost like a classic “round.” Moving from one place in the room to another offered different aural experiences. Difficult to describe but amazingly magical.

So I’m standing in the back of the Gobi tent, listening to some pretty slammin’ punk rock. Looking at the screen, I see the lead singer and think, “Man, that guy is old!” Seconds later it occurs to me: “Hey! I know that guy!” It was Keith Morris, Circle Jerks lead singer and original Black Flag frontman. The band is OFF! and they’re a punk rock “supergroup,” a somewhat oxymoronic term, consisting of Burning Brides‘s Dimitri Coats on guitar, Red Kross‘s Steven McDonald on bass and Rocket from the Crypt‘s Mario Rubalcaba on drums. Keith was hilarious on the mic, clearly surprised to be there, saying, “I know we aren’t the kind of band that…uh, would play someplace like this.” He  and his band added a much-needed punk rock kick in the ass to the festivities!

It seemed to be all about the American Indian. There were feathers everywhere: Indian headdresses, woven into women’s hair, dangling from earrings. I predict that by the time Burning Man comes around, feather penetration will be at a full 75%.

Not that I’m a huge Cee Low fan but the guy came on over a half hour late. When he finally took the stage, he apologized, saying his helicopter had just landed. Whatever, dude. When you’re headlining at a huge festival, you might want to get into town the night before. Or at least early enough that you don’t keep the crowd waiting. In an example of karma being swift and merciless, his set was cut short. Yup, they just literally pulled the plug on him. Hah! I hear he had a meltdown but I couldn’t see it from…well by that point I wasn’t even in the vicinity!

Holding onto up to 350 helium balloons on 200-pound test fishing line doesn’t seem very dangerous. Our “technical director,” Michael Cha, warns us about planes flying by and snagging the line. It may sound farfetched but at Coachella there are those little planes dragging advertising banners overhead and they fly pretty low. So it’s possible. But we laugh about it. Anyway, on closing night as we were reeling in the balloons, I snipped off a few for myself. I tied one to my left bra strap and about five to my right bra strap and made a beeline for the festival exit, ready to return to camp and par-tay! I was almost out the gates when I saw the blinkiest dude ever and had to say hello (and gush over his tech) and tell him about my friends who make electronic wearables. Erik showed me his wire mesh infrastructure that held hundreds of motion-sensored, programmable LEDs. Amazing! When he asked me if I knew Lynne Bruning I got very excited and jumped up and down a little. “Yes, yes! That’s my friend who does this stuff!” Pretty much in mid-jump I went from exuding about Lynne to being…a bunch of feet away. My balloons had been blowing almost horizontally and had gotten caught on a golf cart. My bra strap got yanked and snapped. It took me a few seconds to figure out what had happened. It was soooo sudden! I laughed nervously and thought, “Wow, if I’d been wearing my webbed harness with giant metal rings and had 50 balloons carabinered to me, I would be on my way to the hospital!” Imagine if I HAD gotten caught by a plane! Pic-a-nic basket! Anyway, I spent the rest of the evening getting drunker and telling my story til I had tears running down my face. My brush with death…by balloons!

Home Again…Again

I love my bed.

It was nice to be back in it after a week out of town, sleeping in an RV with the door slamming at all hours. Coachella was a blast! I got to see Duran Duran, The Strokes and Gogol Bordello, among others; discovered a bunch of new bands, including Mariachi el Bronx; got to hang with my friends Jamye, Ocean, Rob and Ben and meet a bunch of new folks; enjoyed the sun and palm trees and walking barefoot; plus be an integral part of Balloon Chain!

But while I was away my visitors here declined so I’m gonna have to work even harder to keep you all entertained and bring everyone back! I’ve been keeping up with my Ashley Madison admirers and will be posting more of that hilarity soon. I have other things in the works as well. Stay tuned! I’ll be home for an extended period of time now so I won’t be leaving you hanging!

In the meantime, please, PLEASE enter my “Worst Date Ever” contest!

Enter EditrixAbby’s “Worst Date Ever Contest!” – DEADLINE EXTENDED!

Hello, my dear bloggedy blog-following friends! When you read this I’ll be winging my way west to work on a friend’s art installation at Coachella. Yes, through the wizardry of future-blogging, I’m writing this while watching Saturday Night Live. I want to say thank you and welcome to my new readers! Apparently if you put the word “penis” in a title, people cannot resist the CLICK!

Recently, along with search engine optimizing, stat counting and other obsessive-compulsive stuff like that, I’ve been consulting with my friends Jamye and Lynne about other ways to make people go CLICK! I know. I sound like a crazy person. That’s what happens when I sit on my couch and interact with my keyboard for days at a time! Anyway! The results of my very limited research says that people love contests! They love prizes! And I know that everyone loves porn! So I’m going to conduct a week-long contest and give away a Triple-XXX-errific Gift Basket to the winner just in time for Easter! Wouldn’t you rather dig through that plastic Easter grass and find lube and condoms than jellybeans? Wouldn’t a vibrator be way more fun than a chocolate bunny? And what about a bunch of porn? I’ll include as many DVDs as I can pack into the basket, including one from Ms. Waxman‘s Personal Touch series! Doesn’t that sound tastier than a trio of Peeps? No? Okay, I get it; everyone loves the Peeps. Tell ya what, I’ll put a pack o’ Peeps in there, too! I’m sure you can figure out something sexy to do with those sticky little marshmallow chicks!

So, you ask: what’s the contest? Well, I’ve been spilling my guts on here about being single, my less-than-erotic encounters and my online dating disasters. I wanna hear about your experiences. Tell me about your worst date, EVER! That’s right, a big ol’ basket of self-love will be sent to the winner of THE WORST DATE EVER CONTEST! All you need to do is click “comment” on the bottom of this blog post and spill your guts! Tell me and all my readers about the saddest, sickest, scariest date you’ve ever experienced. Feel free to comment on — and vote for — the stories you find hilariously horrible! In the end, I’ll be the judge, but it won’t hurt if your horror story inspires other readers to give your thumbs-down date a thumbs up! Now, delve into your darkest dating memories and tell me all about it!


* The Worst Date Ever Contest runs from April 11 til April May 11. DEADLINE EXTENDED! I only had one person enter by April 18 and that isn’t a contest… So please spill your guts!
* To enter, post a comment to this blog post. Private entries will not be considered. If my pain and anguish is public, yours should be too!
* I will read the entries and decide on a winner. The winner will be announced on or before April 21. The winner will receive a gift basket filled with the following:

* A Slimline G. Rechargeable, Waterproof Vibrator by California Exotics
* A Screaming O Bong O Ring
* A DVD from Jamye Waxman‘s Personal Touch series
* A selection of at least five porn DVDs from my “personal” collection
* A handful of 5ml sample packs of Sliquid lubricant
* A package of Peeps
* And MORE secret surprises!