Sunday, September 14, 2014

Dating For Dumb-Dumb

As some of you may or may not know, last year I got divorced from my husband of 7 years. It was not an easy decision to come to, but we have managed to remain friends and we are working very well together to raise our son and keep a friendly demeanor between the two of us. I’m sure he will agree that it isn’t always easy. In fact, I’m sure he will tell you there are days where he wishes I didn’t even exist and that’s OK. As human beings we have the right to be angry and grieve the loss of love in whatever way comes natural to us. Some days it’s easy to see your ex smiling and other days you wish they would just trip and fall into a steaming pile of shit. After all, serves them right for breaking your heart. But that’s really not what brings me here at this moment. You see, in the 8 years that I have been off the market it seems as though a lot has changed. Not just the world around me, but also how I perceive the people in it. I’ve never been a fan of dating and truly anyone I’ve ever been with has been a school or work contact. Unfortunately for me, I no longer have this luxury and I have been forced to put myself out there. The events that are about to be described are as true as I can recall some of the names and events have been changed to protect the stupid and please if you’re single take a few tips from a dumb-dumb like me, the most important one being to never sit with your back towards the door! You’ll thank me for that one someday.


My name is Jennie and this is my story of online dating in the year 2014…


In the last year since I have tried my rounds on the dating circuit I have learned many things, most of them things that I hate about the opposite sex. For example, men with tiny feminine hands or as I like to call them “hobbit hands,” I know this is superficial, but as a woman with a healthy sized claw the thought of those delicate fingers caressing my body gives me the creeps and I will instantly want to end the date and move on to the next huge embarrassing failure that is coming into my love life. Not to worry though because once I’ve burned through Hobbit Hands along comes Chewy! You know the guy who chews his food like a cow or possibly eat so loudly that the entire restaurant is concerned that he’s eating a plate of glass. Or maybe he just gets that white stuff in the corner of his mouth when he speaks. Either way Chewy, like Hobbit Hands makes online dating feel like a game of Russian roulette. You never know when one of those gems is going to come screaming out of the chamber, but you can always be sure when it does nothing good will be left in the wake…


Now there has been the rare occasion where I have gotten through the first few dates without incident and even thought to myself “Hey, this could work.” That seems to be the point when all my reason and common sense takes a backseat, blindfolds itself and prepares to be taken on Mr. Toads wild bullshit journey through crazy town. It usually starts with a few nice comfortable dates. The conversation is good. He’s funny. He’s smart. He tells me I’m funny and beautiful and smart. Sounds good so far and there are no hobbit hands. His eating habits are far from questionable. I begin to let down my guard and put my cards on the table. At 31, I feel that I’m past the point of playing the chase me game, so I like to lead with my expectations and what I’m looking for. If it’s not for you say so now…. The moment comes and goes and we are both on the same page. OK, we're good! The guard can lower some more. And here is where we talk about the first life lesson to come out of this- the power of the Google… Had I been smart with the first dickbag that claimed to be on the “same page” as me I would have Googled him and easily found that he was married and had a hand full of children. Instead, I took the wild ride and got two lessons for the price of one. I found out about the wife when she stormed into the bar and came up behind me and slapped him silly. Hence, why I never sit with my back towards the door, EVER and I always do a public record search before I let you get anywhere near the goods! Guy number two was a little more stealth. He managed to sneak past me because he wasn’t a born American so somewhere in my mind I gave him a pass on the Google. Don’t get me wrong I still did my research but I waited longer than usual. Oh, there was just something about the way he said “aboot”… Anyway, when asshat number two claimed to be on the “same page” he even went as far as to do some futurescaping. That’s where they say things like, oh if you and I are together then we can do bla-bla-bla. In a month we can do intros with your son. Would you go with me here or there? They landscape the future with you. Of course it’s all complete bullshit and it means absolutely nothing, but they get what they need from this. Whether it be sex, or time, money, dinners, attention, whatever it is they need they get it from you. Especially someone like myself who has what I lovingly refer to as "mommy issues". Most girls have daddy issues. They want a man to love them and take care of them. They want a big guy to sweep them off their feet and rescue them. Not me! Oh no, I have the opposite. I want to mother you and save you and accommodate your every whim. So what ends up happening is, I get used and they move on to some bimbo with daddy issues that doesn’t need to control every situation and is actually in need of a man. Which is what I can only assume happened in this situation, because after three weeks of running hot he completely forgot how to use any means of communication and left me hanging in the breeze without so much as a go to hell. What a dream boat ladies! He’s back on the market if anyone’s interested and lesson 3 and 4 if you are keeping track are know your own issues and never fall for the futurescapes. The real stuff is tangible everything else is just smoke amd mirrors.

So here I am today, a little bitter and wounded, but ready to brush myself off and go for another round. I un-hid my profile on one of the world’s worst dating sights so that a bunch of four's that think their eight's can ask me for full body pictures and call me a prude when I decline. And though I told my step-mom I was going to use the $40 bucks she gave me to join JDate to buy a vibrator instead, I may just take her up on the offer and see if there are any nice Jewish boys out there in need of a bitter gal with mommy issues that knows one hell of a way around Google and won’t stand to have her back towards the restaurant door.

4 comments:

  1. I can relate to this on SOOOOOOOOOO many levels! Let me warn you that most guys on JDate have mommy issues, the #1 issue being that they dont want to move out of mommy's house! ~Jenn W.

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  2. I would be curious how YOUR dating has progressed over the last 90 days. Has your perception of the male, changed ?

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    1. Let me be clear... I was never looking for the perfect guy, just someone who was "perfect for me," someone who is the best kind of fucked up as I realize that I am no gem myself. I can say in the last 90 days I have been lucky enough to find someone who makes me feel like a better version of myself. Who's company I not only enjoy, but that I look forward to. I'm not a fool, I realize that with newness come a sense of invincibility however, I also know the importance of enjoying the good while you have it. The truth is, for me at least, dating sucked. I had a rough go and it would have been really easy for me to become bitter and assume that every guy would suck just as much as the ones that came before. Luckily, I didn't and because of that I was able to find someone that was exactly what I was looking for even if I wasn't quite sure what that was. So,I guess if you're asking if my perception of men has changed, I would have to say no because I've always felt that every person has the opportunity to be awesome or suck. And as much as It's up to them to show me which they are it's also up to me to find something good in everyone. I don't know who said it but, for sure they said it best; Everyone is fucked up. You just have to decide what kind of fucked up you're into. And for now at least I've decided...

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