In this area I have quite a few tales to tell but I'll start with one that really blew my mind away.
Internet Date #4
(In the interest of not wanting to reveal the real schumck's name out of my redeeming nature of being a nice person the below mentioned schumck's name has been changed.)
Andy and I were matched through one of those sites that picks your best match based on your personality profile. Andy and I quicky went through the getting to know you stages and began to email each other. From there we jumped right to the phone calls. For two nights we talked on the phone for well over two hours. Andy talked a mile not really giving me a chance to respond in turn. I felt like I was under interrogation. His questions seemed more like a survey for what makes the perfect wife for Andy than what he's interested in in a relationship or even interested in me. Then the conversations started to get rather weird. He asked what I looked like since I didn't have a picture posted on my profile. I told him I was a full-figured woman with a voluptuous body, a beautiful face, dark brown eyes, and auburn hair. He didn't know what voluptuous meant. He said he liked petite women. I told him that was definitely not me. Then he told me he was an athelete and that if was a matter of me losing weight he could always put me on a program and help me with that.
I didn't like that statement. That meant that he would not be happy with who I am. While it may be true that I don't have the body of a supermodel I know what do with the one I've got. I'm happy with my curves, my rounded soft body, and I've never had any complaints. I don't need someone to criticize me or watch what I eat or bug me about lsoing weight. I know what I have to do without having my future partner tell me.
But, the part where it really got weird was when he started asking me what I fantasized about, what did I like etc.....Which is fine, when you're in the relationship. Not when you're talking to someone you haven't met yet. I mean should I charge him for the phone call? Because that is what it sounded like he wanted to get into. Too much too soon. And then he began asking me if I were a dominant or a submissive in a relationship. That raised my eyebrows too. What the hell is he talking about, I thought? The only context I have ever heard those terms was in S&M. He kept talking about some "research" he did on a new relationship strategy which he said couples "sweared" by that kept their marriages alive. He said that one person in the couple assumed the dominant role and the other the submissive role. Then when the person who was the submissive did something that the dominant found to be offensive, say for instance coming home late or burning dinner, then the submissive had to be spanked by the dominant. I sat there and listened to this fool sputter his way through an explanation of this arrangement and he asked me which I would be. I told him that I was not about to let anyone spank me just because he thought I had done something wrong. He sort of laughed and said I sounded like I would be the dominant one.
Now another woman might have cut this off right then and there. But I am of the kind who is a glutton for punishment. I agreed to meet Andy for dinner. He lived very close to me and we met at a restaurant that is exactly between both our houses. When we met face to face I was shocked by how short he and rather petite he was. Not becasue I have anything against short men, but because on the phone he had told me so many tales of how he was so atheletic, how he once tried out for a pro-football team and he used to be a dancer. He had alos told he had graduated from a major university with a BA but later changed his story to say he was working on getting his BA in a roundabout way. Which I took to mean he was getting a fake degree. I was already regretting my decision to meet him.
We went to a Mexican food restaurant and he never once touched the chips and salsa that was set before us. I found myself being very self-conscious about eating any in front of him too. I knew this was definitely not going to work. The conversation was polite enough but when the food came and he unwrapped his silverware he rubbed the fork, turned to me, and said he didn't think the fork was clean enough because he had heard that restaurants didn't use hot enough water to wash them. He actually got up from the table, fork in hand, and went to the bathroom to clean it. I sat there utterly perplexed at where this guy turned up from. A spanking obssessed, delusional, paranoid about unclean forks, weirdo. I should win a prize for this date, I thought. But while he was gone I took advantage of the situation and scarfed down some chips and salsa. I'm Hispanic, duh, I have to eat chips and salsa.
He came back satisfied that his fork was clean and we proceeded to eat our dinner and talk. The whole time he bitched about his cold, frigid, bitch of an ex-wife who sucked him dry out of child-support for their daughter. I had had just about enough. Here's a tip to all single men: when on a date never, ever bring up the ex. Expecially on a first date. If you must talk about her then do so only to mention that you have one but then move on. Women don't want to hear about the ex. I had to get out of this as gracefully as possible. I am a really nice person who doesn't like to be outright rude. So I told Andy that I had to cut the date short because I had to go pick up my son from my ex's place. That's my way out. I usually schedule my dates mid-week when my son goes to his dad's place. That way if the date sucks then I have my ticket out. I said good-bye to Andy and had no intentions of ever seeing him again. The very next day I e-mailed him and told I wasn't what he was looking for. Good-bye. Good luck.
I went to pick up my son and heaved a huge sigh. Perhaps the next date will be better.