Day 145 Question 145:

What is dating like in 2012?

I have a date today.  This is the first date I have been on in I don’t even know how long.  I admit I am nervous.  Dating is just so weird to me and dating this day and age…especially at the age of 33 just bites.  I seem to meet guys that want to talk about or perform (yes I said perform) sex within the first hour of meeting me or I meet the guy with as much personality as a doorknob.  This is an online person…living in a tourist town it is almost impossible to meet someone.  I have talked to this guy a few times on the phone and the conversations have been quite stimulating so fingers crossed that it goes well.  I will keep you updated ;0)

I thought for pure amusement I would find some dating disaster stories online that would make me feel a little better about my past tragic dating scenarios with hopes that this one doesn’t end up as one of them.  I hope you are able to get a good giggle.  :0)

MY DATE WITH DEBBIE DOWNER

I met a woman on-line, we chatted a bit, soon to move on to the phone. On one phone call she started to describe the new family puppy. How it was difficult to train, modifications of the backyard, no-help from the kids…etc… you know the story.

The first meeting was at Chili’s, common area in between locations. I met her at the bar (her choice). She was 20-minutes late. When she arrived I was kinda shocked by her lack of weight. Very thin, too thin, odd.  She sat down and for the next 45-50 minutes she wined about how bad her life was and the same horrible dog story I had previously endured on the phone the day prior.

I was hoping that the building would possibly burst into flames. It didn’t happen, I was sad.

As we exited the building, walking to the parking lot she placed her hand on my shoulder and told me that I was a good listener, and conversstionalist. But there was NO SPARK.  I was hoping that I could knock over a Pharmacy on the way home for the anti-depressants that I now needed.  I never had a worse time in my life.

But, In turn, telling this story to some friends, my new girlfriend (Jean) who was sympathetic, and able to tell another internet dating story to me as well. We are now very happy, and get along amazingly, we will be married sometime next year,

So the bad turns into good.

This date from hell story was submitted by:  Peter from Western MA

Not What The Doctor Prescribed

Very shortly after my divorce in 1992, I received a “spam” message in my inbox that I actually responded to. Believe it or not, I hadn’t even heard of online dating before. This ad claimed I could meet the woman of my dreams on their site, so I was intrigued.

The next thing you know, I had ponied up however much they charged and began looking through the pictures of women they had listed.

To be honest, this was not exactly the most well-traveled site on the ‘net. Who knew there was a Match.com out there? So inevitably, I found exactly one woman who seemed interesting to me–a brown-eyed blondie with a friendly smile.

I emailed her, probably with something lame like “You seem nice. Maybe we could get along. Would you like to talk?”. Remember, this was Day One for me in the online dating world.

Call it “beginner’s luck, but she wrote back. Crazy, huh?

Well, one thing led to another, and there we were sitting across the table from one another at dinner. The fact that I shouldn’t have been paying for dinners here has long since been duly noted and is sort of beside the point, so please overlook that for now and read on.

Midway through dinner, she starts talking about her medical problems.

Never talk about your medical problems on a first date. I don’t care if you’ve known the person for ten years, let alone ten minutes.

Between bites of whatever I was eating, she was bragging about how she had chronic kidney stone issues and how tough she was for being able to pass them without even flinching nowadays.

Unfortunately, she took my casual attempt to divert the discussion as disbelief.

“You don’t believe I get kidney stones? Here…look…”

Already having started digging in her purse, she soon produced a small medicine vial.

I thought to myself, “This chick has to be kidding. I believe her, already. She doesn’t have to prove her case by showing me her prescription.”

I should have been so lucky.

Pressing down and twisting the child-proof cap, the bottle opened and the contents were soon poured into her hand.

“See, look at this…it has to be at least the size of a pea, right?”

With a freshly French-manicured thumb and forefinger, she produced the largest unit from an impressive collection of similar objects she was holding.

Yes. It was the largest kidney stone she had ever passed.

This woman collected her kidney stones. And she took them with her everywhere, apparently.

I don’t remember what I said or did, really. But I do remember there was a second date, believe it or not.

Not A Strip Mall, Sweetie Not long after the “kidney stone chick”, I met another woman from the same site. She was a Hispanic cutie with perfect skin and a booty that would have made Sir Mix-A-Lot slam on the brakes. She said “sweetie” a lot.

I hadn’t learned the part about not taking women to expensive dinners on first dates yet, so there were at one of the nicer sushi joints in San Antonio.

She was terrific. She was intelligent and loved to laugh. Above and beyond that, she was a great flirt. Clearly she was digging me.

We had ordered two glasses of red wine, and conversation turned to what she did for a living.

“So you said you were ‘self-employed’. What exactly do you do?”, I asked.

While she answered, I took a sip of Merlot. And it was right then that I discovered that all those slapstick “spit takes” you see on old-school comedy sketches are rooted in factual reality.

It took all I had in reserve not to spew grape juice all over everything.

“I run a chain of strip clubs, Sweetie.”, she had announced matter-of-factly.

Sitting before me was a decidedly classy woman, who I had picked up from a decent home in a nice neighborhood.

“You mean, like a strip mall…right…with the nail salons, a tanning place and a chinese restaurant.”

“No, silly! LOL! I mean like…you know…strip clubs. The kind with girls.”

Now if you know my style at all by now, you already realize the date was as good as over.

Yet, it was like a train wreck. I couldn’t look away.

And I asked the inevitable question.

“Yes, well…my ex ran the day-to-day operations and I pretty much handled the books. But he let the ‘interview process’ go a little too far too often, and I couldn’t trust him anymore. I got the business in the divorce settlement.”

It was then, I told her the truth.

“I’ve never been to one of those places in my life, and I see no reason to start now.”

Uh oh.

I may has well have lit a roman candle. That chick practically attacked me as soon as we left the restaurant. I tried to handle things as best as I knew how at the time, but let’s just say she wasn’t a happy camper.

When I got home, she had already e-mailed me the buck-naked pics from her “Adult Friendfinder” profile (which was my first introduction to that particular reality). “This is what you missed out on. GOOD LUCK!!!” was the only line accompanying the pics.