Disengaged Woman

bitching to myself.

Stupid Things I Have Done November 6, 2010

Of the multitude of ridiculously and obviously stupid things I have done, a few stand out to me… going to start with the worst first.

1. I had just broken up with someone, okay? That’s a terrible excuse, but it’s the only one I’ve got. I really liked this guy and he just put on some spiked gloves and squashed my heart a little bit. Anyway, we hadn’t been broken up very long, and I was feeling sort of reckless. It goes like this:

I was talking to this guy on a dating website. He seemed  pretty nice, looked cute in his ONE (yes, just one) picture, and he was suitably impressed with my love of whiskey and beer. He said I sounded like a lot* of fun, and therefore we got along great.

He wanted me to come over and drink (Red Flag #1) and I wanted to as well (jesus fucking christ, me) but I didn’t have a car, and he lived in the next town over. After very little resistance, I agreed to let this most likely serial killer rapist psycho clown tap dancing meth head drive me far out of what should have been my comfort zone, and then back home in time for work.

Anyway, we get to his place. I’m completely lost, even though he tried to explain the way to me as we were going. My cell phone is dying. But he has an adorable dog, and I relax because how many serial killers could successfully take care of a dog? Very few, let me tell you. He takes me on a tour of his place, and I see a ridiculous amount of… jewelry. And women’s clothing. I am confused. I say, “Wow, that’s an awfully… colorful room.” when we get to his bright, glittery and fuzzy bedroom. He looks confused for a second to0, then says, “Wait a second.” and runs over to his computer. After a lot of awkward silence, he turns around and looks at me.

Serial killer rapist psycho clown tap dancing meth head: I told you I have a girlfriend, right?

Me: Uh, nope.

Serial killer rapist psycho clown tap dancing meth head: Oh. Well, I have a girlfriend. But I’m not in any trouble or anything.

Me: Oh, well, that’s good.

I’m feeling incredibly uncomfortable at this point. I start trying to  discretely look around for any pictures of this girl, so I can determine whether or not I can take her if she happens to bust in all of a sudden to kick my ass.

I sort of want him to drive me home. But he hands me a giant glass of vodka and orange juice, so I gulp that down instead. Don’t ask me why this seemed like an acceptable alternative.

After my vodka fix I feel a little more relaxed. I’m thinking, “Hey, maybe he just wanted to meet as friends! I like friends. Friends are awesome.” I conveniently forget his status was set to “single” and that just a few minutes ago I felt like he had tricked me into coming over. We go out to his garage so he can smoke pot. I decline. (1 point for me!). Then we put on our bathing suits and go out to the hot tub. (-50320 points for me).

In the hot tub he mentions that I seemed uncomfortable earlier. Well no shit. I say I feel better after the vodka, but he has to admit it looks bad. Serial killer rapist psycho clown tap dancing meth head says his girlfriend had been out of town for a couple weeks visiting family, and he was lonely. He claims he called her and asked her if he could have a girl come over just to hang out because she had been gone so long and he was so lonely.

Now there are many things wrong with this. First of all, why do you need a FEMALE to come over? Both genders are equally capable of speech. One just looks better in a bikini than the other. And look where he’d managed to get me. Sitting in a hot tub  in a bikini.

Secondly, if I were his girlfriend and he had called and asked me that, I would have thought that  he was being a manipulative, guilt tripping asshole. I couldn’t imagine her actually being okay with this situation. I had finally seen her picture and she was definitely bigger than me. I wasn’t at all sure I could hold my own.

Thirdly, she was coming home the next night. He couldn’t have waited one more measly night? Yeah right. It just all seemed… off.

Now I was ready to go. Why now and not before? I’ve got nothing. As we’re walking out to his car, he casually mentions that he and his girlfriend are into threesomes and if I’m interested, he’d like to give that a shot with me. I smile and say I’ll think about it. Somehow I am not killed by the serial killer rapist psycho clown tap dancing meth head on the way home.

I’ve gotten a couple messages from him since, but ignored them. At some point whilst mulling over that night, it struck me just how bad that could have been, mostly because he had all the control. I didn’t have a car, my cell phone was dead, I was essentially in the middle of nowhere, and it was the middle of the night. Since then, while I may still do a dumbass thing from time to time, I always make sure I have a potential way out. You can only get lucky so many times.

 

 

* I’ve gotta say, I have had the spelling of a lot beaten into my skull by Allie at http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.com

I actually typed “alot” first, and the weirdo brown thing popped into my head and I was like “shit.” This would be a great way to teach grammar/spelling. Every time someone put up a sign indicating that “Boxe’s” needed to be broken down before put in the rubbish shoot, we could send the alot after them. Or something.

 

Highly Attractive Beauty September 15, 2009

Filed under: Sex, Dating, Body Image — Auma Afton @ 2:26 pm
Tags: , ,

1. When constructing a first message to a girl on a dating website, your goal is to achieve a lot of things in a small amount of space. The biggest downfalls seem to be coming across as confident, (yet not cocky), while being coherent.

Mistake #1: You didn’t use punctuation. This isn’t always a deal breaker, and I”m sure a lot of women, including myself, would overlook it given the content of the message itself. IF we can read it. At least make an effort to use a few periods guys. “hey beautiful how are could help to notice ur beauty” … what? Give me a good response to that one.

Mistake #2: You don’t really say anything. Even “hey what’s up?” is better than “i really must say ur one highly attractive woman also im fabio by the way.” Notice the lack of periods. How do you respond? Unless that’s all you’re looking for, the whole point of making the first move is trying to get a conversation flowing.

Mistake #3: It really doesn’t seem like you read her profile. Worse yet, you obviously didn’t because you sent her a message asking what her favorite movies are, and they’re right at the top of the profile. At least pretend like you didn’t just message her based on how much cleavage she’s showing.

Mistake #4: All you said was “hey you’re hot.” It doesn’t matter if you say “hey you’re attractive” or “hey you’re beautiful,” it all translates to that’s all you care about.

While compliments get you lots of places, I suggest sliding them in there, not making them the whole premise of your message. “Hey i noticed you viewed me, and i really got to ask what are your tattoos of. anyways, i just wanted to say hey and that you have pretty eyes :)”

In that message, you said hey, gave a reason for saying hey, asked about something from her profile and complimented her, all without being too up front about anything. Laid back, pleasant and thoughtful… and some punctuation! Good job

 

Dating Websites June 2, 2009

Filed under: Sex, Dating, Body Image — Auma Afton @ 11:18 am
Tags: , ,

1. The problem people have with dating websites, I’ve noticed, is high expectations. I’m pretty sure “short-term,” to a guy, is dating, “dating” is meeting someone and maybe having sex, and “friends” is a nice way of saying fuck buddies. Anybody who has “long term” checked scares me. You don’t need to be as cynical as me, but be careful. Dating websites require lowered expectations. This makes it easier when things don’t work and better when they do.  Of course, I’ve only used the free kind. I don’t know anything about e-harmony and the like, but I think you have to pay so they must be more serious. They definitely try to come off as serious.

2. Anyway, here are some of my experiences.  (Select details have been changed to protect the guys).

  • The Austrian-born guy, who, after we’d talked a little one evening, (a mostly one-sided conversation about how ugly and stupid the girls he had dated were), said he was going to kill himself if I didn’t go out with him. I didn’t really believe him, especially after he told me he didn’t actually want to die, “but seriously, I’m that lonely.”  I blocked him when I felt comfortable with that decision, and he somehow got around it a couple months later to say hi, so I know he’s okay. Well, alive anyway.
  • The Existentialist and I really didn’t get along at all. Everything he said rubbed me the wrong way, and every time I tried to explain how I felt to him he’d get something completely foreign out of it. The worst of it was that every time I said anything, he would tell me what that “made” me. Absurdest, humanist, existentialist, deist, none of which he could define, none of which I particularly felt came anywhere near defining me. One statement does not make a person, and neither does one word. Still, we remained friends until one of our deaths seemed imminent, and we haven’t talked since.
  • The Libertarian and I had awesome conversations. It didn’t go anywhere, but I liked hanging out with him. We talked about starting a cult based on the fact that DaVinci’s “John the Babtist” and Robert Plant look disturbingly similar. Everyone must have long curly hair. I think it makes about as much sense as Scientology, so it’s bound to be a success.
  • The Inch Worm didn’t get past the first date. He listed all his sexual encounters (along with the size and shape of the woman) while slowly inching closer to me. We were sitting on the grass at the park, and he “inched” by laying down, sitting up closer to me, laying down, sitting up closer to me, and so on and so forth until he literally laid himself across my lap to look at my cell phone. About a week and a half later he changed his facebook status to “engaged.” A few days after that, it was back to single. Hm.
  • Led Zeppelin wore his shoes every time he fucked me. It’s not like we had frenzied, no-time-to-get-completely-undressed sex. He just never took them off. I would look down and there his shoes would be, on his feet, below his naked body. It was disconcerting.

3. While dating websites are beneficial for the shy, and for those who allow their expectations to be deflated slightly, I can’t decide if they’re worth it. Socially awkward is one thing, threatening suicide is another entirely. And while not every user is…”unbalanced,” how can you possibly figure out which aren’t, save trial and error? I feel like I spend more time on dating websites weeding out the creeps than finding someone I truly enjoy spending time with.

Though I’m not sure how much different that is from meeting people out in the real world.