Regrettably, this is not the first time I’ve been the victim of this kind of online dating haranguing by some overzealous fucktard. I don’t know what gets into these guys. Are they über-insecure, completely irrational, ravaged by OCD, or just fricken nuts? Read on to try and wrap your brain around the presumed logic behind this dude's match.com methodology…
... as I'm now able to look back and judge this six-part email exchange as a whole, I can only assume that, having not heard back from me within 7 minutes of sending his first email, Mr. Down-to-Earth hastily decides to provide an addendum (below) to heighten the intrigue.
I should also note: I was already deep into my night's slumber when his first email arrived -- and well into one of my nightly David Beckham dreams by the time the second was sent.
I should also note: I was already deep into my night's slumber when his first email arrived -- and well into one of my nightly David Beckham dreams by the time the second was sent.
...As morning arrives, I picture Renaissance Man leaping out of bed like a 5-year-old on Christmas. Wearing only his tighty-whities and a pair of black dress socks, he scoops up his Blackberry, panting with anticipation as he scrolls through the new arrivals in his inbox to see what joys await him.
Alas, his match.com temptress has not responded. Clearly, she has rejected his advances! “That bitch!” he mutters to himself, cursing the day that this…woman he doesn’t know…was born.
Naturally, he fires off this smug reprimand, perceptibly stunned at my audacity to give the brush off to the diamond in the rough that he so obviously is. You gotta love the little jab he works in at the end, too. …'Cause, clearly, I’ve been casing match.com to find that ideal combination of lover/employer in a man. What a passive-aggressive jackass.
Again, a quick note: at this point in the morning, I am still asleep – blissfully unaware of Jim’s spontaneous obsession with me, his subsequent supplication, his wholly unrealistic expectations, and now his unabashed loathing...…for someone who still knows not of his existence.
New radio show? I'm not even going to indulge in creative speculation as to what kind of radio show he could possibly be hosting, *but* if anyone from the greater Triad area happens to hear of a radio show featuring someone by the name of Jim, please please please please please let me know about it.
Anyhow...obviously, I could have -- and probably should have -- chosen to ignore him, but I sometimes see it as my inherent duty to my fellow females to set these brazen imbeciles straight. Not that I delude myself by actually thinking that I make any difference, but at least it makes me feel a little better.
Predictably, he responded to my email with some whiny, pathetic, long-winded retraction that I will spare you.
I’ll be honest: I would not have been interested in this wanker, with or without his impetuous rebuke of my failure to respond while I was sleeping. And even if I had been interested, I highly doubt I’d have lobbed back an immediate response. For one, I find that sort of over-eagerness to be creepy when it comes to one’s initial correspondence in the online dating world. The second thing is – it’s a weekday morning. Any reasonable person would assume that, in all probability, I have a job to get to and that priority may perhaps preclude me from penning an instantaneous response. Even to David Beckham.
At any rate, being that I did awake to an inbox brimming with slime-laden emails, I was compelled to yank my match.com profile for a bit. I do that all of the time – in fact, I’m probably “hidden” more than not. At times I get to thinking about all the skuzzbuckets out there skimming through my profile – at least five of which, at any given time, are probably masturbating to my photos. Then I’ll check out the counter and find that I’ve gotten like 500 hits in the last 36 hours – which serves only to reinforce the image in my head of the numerous Beavis and Buttheads in the Raleigh-Durham area, sitting in their bedroom in their parents' house, door locked, snickering with one hand down their pants as they scroll through my images with the other. It makes me want to race to the nearest shower.
But the egotistical sleaze that he is, my man Jim, here, notices that I've pulled my profile and actually proceeds to try and credit himself with being the reason that I’ve chosen to hide.
What a narcissistic clod. And you can add "reality" to the areas of expertise that this Renaissance dope is missing in his repertoire.
Ya know, Mark3 should put these guys on his payroll right now, because they are making him look like he was sent down from heaven on the wings of angels. Not that he needs any help (although, I wouldn't exactly go so far as evangelize his presence on this planet...that's slightly extreme) -- but you know what I'm saying.
Ya know, Mark3 should put these guys on his payroll right now, because they are making him look like he was sent down from heaven on the wings of angels. Not that he needs any help (although, I wouldn't exactly go so far as evangelize his presence on this planet...that's slightly extreme) -- but you know what I'm saying.
WHY do they do this? This looks like a cut-n-paste to me, or else some version of a line that once got him lucky. It's like "Insert Woman Here" in their imaginary perfect lives with their imaginary perfect selves at the helm. As if his attributes are so stunning, how could you NOT be swept off your feet?
ReplyDeleteEarlier tonight I removed my online profiles from PoF and Match after the most curious, weird non-date in my life. He didn't confirm which of two locations, forgot to transfer my cell phone # to his phone and didn't show up at either place. I left after 20 minutes and TWO HOURS later he called me from a Kinko's ("the only place I could log onto PoF to get your phone number") to tell me some long story about his phone in one place and his church in another and an assistant whose mother is a scientist so why couldn't he log on and call me...Uhhhh?
To wind up his pitch, he repeated, "So things that start bad are bad. You don't want to try again, do you? I don't know if we should. Unless you want to. You probably don't. My assistant's mother is a scientist, you know. But I was at church, which I may have mentioned earlier, because I go to church except not usually this one because I don't like the minister too much, he's like that, you know. But I went tonight because I knew I had to go get my phone, and then I called the restaurant at 8:10, 8:15 and 8:45 to see if you were waiting and they said no..." (Our date was at SEVEN PM!!!) I'll spare you the details. OMG!
I give up. The last date from Match told me after FOUR MONTHS together that his therapist told him he should sow his wild oats for a while, before he settled down with one woman. He's 61. I'm 46 and pretty hot and doing well professionally. After five months apart, he called a week ago to tell me he's dating four women at once and it's a lot of work...would I like to come over because he misses our sex....
I QUIT! I'm glad you're in love now, but this blog is a lifeline for those of us who are perilously close to the edge of the dating cliff.
Your friend Wendy (aka "Anonymous")