I was in the grocery store with one of my closest guy friends, in the check-out line after spending our entire shopping time talking about the latest woes of my love life. I was knee deep in the online dating lifestyle and I still couldn’t figure out what exactly I was getting out of the situation. My online messaging system seemed to be going off nonstop and before I could respond to one I was receiving a message from another. Meanwhile, the guys that I actually corresponded with on the phone didn’t seem to be really doing anything but randomly checking in with me. My reaction to this was like a crack addict looking for the next high—I was beginning to feel like I needed to cycle in a new batch of men to satisfy my need for attention!
I pushed the cart through the store lamenting to my homie that I would really kill for a guy that could type a full sentence, complete a whole thought or at least offer to take me out to dinner. I don’t know at what point I became one of those high-maintenance, whiny chicks but it had happened sometime during the course of my “internet stock” going up with this online business. I was on fire—what was there to complain about? Well, on top of all of these guys in the virtual world of OKCupid, there was one actual real-live guy I was striking out with at that moment. I met him at a party and in my drunkenness I suppose I completely forgot that to some degree life is still high school.
He walked into the room and my heart skipped a beat and that was a wrap. We exchanged numbers and I was hopeful but things weren’t necessarily going as I planned. It was about two months after our initial meeting and according to MY timeline we should have been on a picnic somewhere with lush green grass feeding each other grapes; congratulations to me; I have won at dating and life. But no, I was stuck in texting limbo with the dude and worried that it was a result of my being completely unaware of his “street value”. Here I am thinking I’ve picked up a quirky painting at a flea market and it ends up being a fucking Picasso (-_-) I didn’t think about looks enough, I only knew what appealed to me in that moment and I had overlooked the fact that the striking features of his face and waist length dreads meant that he appealed to every woman and their mother. Damn, I got bitches? No, I’m pretty sure this dude had bitches.
By the time we reached the check-out line I was on a full-fledged first world problems rant. (I’m not even sure if my friend was even listening to me at this point). Why can’t I have what I want? Why would it be so far-fetched that the hot guy from the party would be interested in me? Sure, he only contacted me maybe once a week if I was lucky and he responded to my texts at the lightning speed of 24 hours later—but what does that matter?! Clearly there was more to his story than meets the eye. Why must I assume that all his spare time is spent fucking bitches when he could very well be gardening, working, exercising, sleeping or lying in a ditch somewhere—and everyone knows that ditches have terrible cell service… I pose these questions to my friend and before he could even open his mouth to respond to my ridiculousness my text notification went off.
I looked down at my phone and it was text from the hottest of my OkCupid guys. Without missing a beat I held the phone up to him triumphantly and declared, “Man, who cares about what you think— as long as my bitches love me.” No exaggeration, I literally said this (dork) and of course we started singing the song and acting stupid right there in the grocery store line—it was a fun time. BUT, the underlying and dangerous undercurrent of what I had spoken lingered in the air and it spoke volumes. I was on a power trip and I was seeking gratification through the attention of random men I barely even knew. This was not good…
I’m Not Josie Grossie Anymore
I can tell you exactly where all of this anxiety and confusion was coming from— residual bs from high school. At the time I was living it, high school sucked but looking back on it now I think of it as pretty awesome. Those not making fun of me were paying me no attention at all so I decided early on to just do whatever the hell I wanted to do anyway. It was extremely freeing to dress, talk, act, look however I wanted and fly just underneath the radar. Of course I wasn’t completely immune and sometimes had to withstand the harsh judgment of my peers but it only really taught me to be more individualistic with a tough edge. …The downside of individualism? No guy in general or guy I was interested in bothered to pay attention to me or reciprocated my feelings.
Fast forward more than ten years later as one of the most good looking guys I’ve ever dealt with stroked my hair and called me a “sexy porn star looking woman” I realized I had arrived. Had I really? No. (Especially since from what I’ve seen porn stars are not really all that great looking. Not that I watch porn—I digress!) I still look the same with more jiggles and creases than ever before— it has nothing to do with how you look and every bit to do with how you carry yourself. Or at least it must because I have no other explanation! As I told a friend a few days ago, I’m thinking of this as my “season” and I’m not going to question it I’m just going to ride the wave and go with the flow!
The only problem is, in going with the flow I managed to get caught up in a current and nearly drowned. I suppose I just didn’t know how to deal with this newfound popularity— it was taking me out of my comfort zone. As a woman that doesn’t know how to choose friends cattily and strategically I’ve ended up with a lot of really hot female friends. My very best friend is thin with a big booty and long silky black hair so I established my place early on. I am the funny one; I crack jokes in the corner. I can relax and be myself and wear and do what I want and the guys that are into my particular brand of weird usually come find me. This has always been the arrangement. Then all of a sudden I had these men looking at a series of pictures of me and making the decision that they wanted to spend time with me and it was seriously messing with my brain! When I met B2 for the first time and he got out of his vehicle, in all his 6’3″ glory, gifting me with a beautiful white smile and bear hug I really just wanted to run. This was some sort of mistake. I am not this girl that bags dudes that look like this. Even now when a “hey sexy” text from him pops up on my screen it makes me groan in turmoil. I’m just a pudgy, single mom, writer type. You have got the wrong girl.
Life is Like A Box of Chocolates…
It’s true you never know what you’re going to get, but if you’re like me you will probably bite into every single one of those seemingly delicious treats until you find what you’re looking for. In my case I became greedy and was taking two or three bites out of chocolate I’d already tasted. (<– not a sex metaphor). It was dude overload! This one is kinda soulful; this one has dark skin with green eyes, that one’s a poet, ooh yay another sixpack! That one likes the color blue; this one knows the alphabet… I was having a hard time trying to narrow it down to just one and during the worst of it I was talking to about seven dudes at once! For this I am not proud but if you read the blog then you know firsthand that I struggle with discipline and entitlement issues. I felt I deserved the right to retain each one of these dudes and somehow piece them together to make the perfect boyfriend and then precede TO TAKE OVER THE WORLD!!! Mwahahahahaha….oh, sorry, ahem.
Anyway, that was a dramatization but I did feel as if I were that powerful. The big not-so-secret secret is that all woman start off with a significant amount of power in all dating situations by simply being born with a vagina. If you have one you are ahead of the game, trust me. There is nothing as tenacious as a man on his pursuit for new pussy and when you find a website literally full of men on the hunt OF COURSE it’s going to make you feel like queen for a day. I eventually caught on to the fact that it had more to do with these men not being able to help themselves and not really anything I was bringing to the table. Case in point, I was just sitting next to a pretty woman who was talking to her boyfriend on the train. When it was time for me to transfer I noticed that as I was making my way to pass her HE was giving ME a second glance. They seemed a happy couple to me, I know for a fact that this man was not interested in me in the least—but that sure as hell wasn’t going to stop him from sneaking a look. Being “desired” by all these men meant nothing and I am truly glad that my ego trip was short-lived.
Kinda Hard Out Here for A Pimp
The conclusion of this thing is simple: Pimpin’ ain’t easy! I feel like this experience helps me to understand men and their plight just a little bit more (not that much, though). Anyone who goes into a dating situation without a clear goal or direction is going to leave just as confused as they were when they first embarked on the journey to not be single, not be alone, have a girlfriend/boyfriend, maybe or whatever… I’ve been led on by a guy or two in my day and I couldn’t fathom how someone could be so cruel. WELL—the answer is obvious to me now. I live in a highly populated area where the women are aggressive AND hot AND educated AND have big booties. If you’re a dude it is a freakin’ smorgasbord of eligible choices, and if you don’t know what you want out of relationships with the opposite sex (and life in general) you are bound to waste the hell out of some poor girl’s time or even break her heart. The temptation of supposedly “better” options is always going to be there and I can see how easy it is to get caught up in the Warren G syndrome.
I don’t want to be a time waster or heartbreaker and have decided that I would prefer to date with more purpose. On many levels it IS fun to just kind of “hang out” with dudes with no real commitment or obligation. These casual relationships definitely appeal to me because I don’t have to work as hard AND I can use the “we’re not serious anyway” excuse when a guy does something to hurt my feelings or chooses to stop speaking to me when I thought we were really connecting. When I met these guys online I didn’t have to hold them accountable for much and I didn’t have to worry about being disappointed. Now that I will be turning 30 in a few days, I realize that I should probably grow up a little and change my foolish and cowardly ways. One meaningful relationship that challenges me to put my heart on the line is better than several empty and loose romantic involvements that only challenge my skills at text messaging shorthand.
- Everyone has different communication styles! Some prefer to speak on the phone, some would text or message back immediately—others were responsive whenever they got around to it, I assume, but none of it can be interpreted as disinterest. In addition, there are many factors when it comes to written communication; how busy the person is, if they lack communication skills in general, if they are not quick-witted, if they can only text you on their girlfriend’s cell phone while she is sleeping… I found that most of the guys I talked to just weren’t the best conversationalists. This is ok, but as a person that thrives on witty banter and interesting conversation it was clear that these types were not matches for me.
- Setting standards early will weed out the losers. No you can’t come chill at my house, please don’t call me “Bae”, don’t call me late on weekdays, three weeks of communication with no meet up is a deal breaker—unless they’re a single parent.
- I am a lot more shallow than I thought.
- A guy who says he’s on a dating site because he doesn’t have “time” to date is full of shit. You make time; end of story. Abort communication immediately!
- Unemployed guys are not losers. (I never thought they were, but I felt the need to write this down).
- If a guy won’t answer why he’s on a dating website then he is either ashamed or married. Abort communication! (It IS a cliché question but one I liked to ask. Some dudes made it seem like I tried to talk about Fight Club o_O)
- If a guy describes himself as a “homebody” he is not going out on any dates under any circumstances. Abort mission!
- Men are fond of women in general and I shouldn’t allow myself to be intimidated by looks. Just because a man is in the gym 7 days a week does not mean he will mind that I’m at home eating nachos and watching Breaking Bad. Looks are lazy. Your looks are what God gave you by default; any person that places too much value on this is unimaginative.
- It is best to have no regrets! I said some pretty outrageous, raunchy, crazy things to people throughout this whole ordeal. I never apologized for anything I said or did because I didn’t want to feel like I had to go out of my way to impress anyone. I signed up for the site just like them and being myself should be remarkable enough or we are just not a match. I hope to bring this habit with me to the “in-person” dating world. I think I am too often approached by men who sit back and wait for me to WOW them when it should be the other way around or at least 50/50.
Extras (Fun Stuff)
Send Me a Pic, Boo: I always hate when dudes who have looked at your profile with like 20 pictures of you finally get your personal information and the FIRST thing they ask for is a picture! I would send them the caricature above and insist that it was a candid picture of me with no makeup and no filter—no one really found it all that funny
Mimicking: I know I say I had a lot of fun, but I do admit that carrying on conversation with these random dudes was extremely difficult at times—especially when they would begin conversation with brilliant things like, “Hey”. After a while, especially via text, I started to just mimic how they would speak to me. The purpose was to subliminally let them know that they needed to try harder. No one ever did. For example:
Me: Chillin, wyd?
Him: Watchin’ tv
Me: Tru…send me a pic, boo
Say My Name: Toward the end of the whole experience I was so fed up with all these dudes calling me by my biblical name. It makes no sense but it felt too intimate and I just wanted to be a little more emotionally removed so I started introducing myself to men simply as “Davis” (my maiden name). It was fun to go by a pseudonym and it made me feel safe. I can’t really explain why.
Dirty: My answer to the profile question “What is the most private thing you will admit about yourself?” was “I like it dirty”. It turned out to be a great conversation starter because a lot of men actually took it in a direction that steered it away from the sexual connotation. I was pleasantly surprised by this and glad I had chosen to answer the question with a fun response. Most people totally copped out on it or became defensive that the site was being so personal.
Dating online was a fun experience for me and it actually did help me to feel as if I had gotten my mojo back. I hope you were able to get a kick out this series and enjoyed the read! Surprisingly, this is not all. I am also planning to do a YouTube video extra (Part III, if you will) to briefly discuss my thoughts, feelings and experiences on interracial dating. Don’t forget to “like” the Embrace the Crazy Facebook page for daily doses of ridiculous and subscribe to my YouTube channel for poetry readings, musical posts and more!
Got something you want to say in private? Email me directly at: WG@whiskeyandpoetry.com
Click here to read Part I: Damn, I Got Bitches: An Inside Look Into My Month of Online Dating.
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