You may be wondering where I’ve been lately, why no blog posts, am I okay, etc. And the answer, my friends, is that I’m perfectly fine, I’m just busy with school and work, I’m feeling better emotionally, and… the thing is, I’ve just been trying to get my groove on. Yep. That’s what I’ve been doing in my spare time, which hasn’t been a fruitful or healthy way to spend my time, but there you have it. Oh, and I have been going to the gym and riding my bike again–so that’s one good thing. We must look at the bright side, folks.
Having an active (safe, consensual) sex life is healthy too, come to think of it.
Match has yielded no positive results, except for one promising guy who I’ll tell you about in a minute, but first let me tell you about the two creeps. So last night the 34-year-old guy I was supposed to “make dinner for” (and sleep with, let’s be real)–let’s call him the Doctor, because he’s an arrogant PhD student who thinks he knows more about nutrition than I do, who’d showed no interest in who I am as a person–bailed on me. I’d already written him off as boyfriend material prior to that, and decided I’d get mine since he clearly had no interest in more than sex. In other words, he didn’t mind if we were just friends with benefits, so it’s not like I’d be hurting his feelings. And he seemed like a safe bet because… I’d assessed through our conversation that he probably didn’t have any diseases, and he promised he’d wear a condom regardless. He lives about 15 minutes away, so it would be convenient. He’s in grad school so he understands my busy schedule, and he hasn’t been too demanding so far.
So then he texts me yesterday afternoon to say he’s sorry but his arrhythmia is acting up and he can’t make it.
A 34-year-old guy? Can’t make it because of his arrhythmia?
Oh Lord help us all.
That was my first sign that it’s not meant to be, that maybe we jumped the gun too soon on that whole thing, maybe I can wait a few more dates before jumping into bed with whoever the next guy is that comes along.
That red flag lasted about a minute, because then Jose from Plenty of Fish (yep, I got on POF, the hookup site… God help me) emails me. His profile picture is of him standing shirtless in front of the bathroom mirror, as is commonly found on online dating sites. These guys are letting you know they look gorgeous and this is what they have to offer: sex. So I decide what the hell, I’m a grown-ass woman, I can hook up with someone if I want to, and my hormones are raging right now.
So I get to texting with Jose, and then later we get to sexting (yes, I sexted! Apparently everyone’s doing it now), and then we make plans to meet up at a later time. And he’s gorgeous, let me tell you. Six feet tall, fit, sculpted… dang! But I’m a smart woman and I value you my life, so I made sure he knew he’s going to be wearing a condom and that we’d need to meet in a public place first so that I can be sure he’s not a Ted Bundy (because that worked so well for his victims), and then I ask his last name. Even though he just moved from Delaware, I figure I can google him to make sure he’s not a formerly convicted rapist with assault charges or something scary. (In Maryland we have Maryland Case Search (just google it) to find any charges a person might have.)
And he won’t give me his last name. He wants to know my last name, and I’m like hell no I’m not telling this guy now. He’d already asked where I worked, and I was like nuh uh. And he’d already suggested coming to my house, and I was like, pffft no. Is this guy for real? I just met you online and you think I’m going to give you all my personal details?
He had the nerve to get suspicious of why I wouldn’t give him my last name, and honestly y’all, I’d have given it to him if he hadn’t freaked me out by that time. Then he told me that I was scaring him because of how suspicious I was. I tried to explain it, saying, Look you could hunt me down and kill me, but what would I do to you? Then he tells me that I sounded crazy, and then he’s like, We don’t have to meet, problem solved.
After that I wanted to draw my shades closed, just in case. Maybe I’m paranoid but I’m not going to sleep with some guy whose last name I don’t know, who I met online and haven’t even had a phone conversation with yet. Sure, I’ll send him a picture of my boobs, lol (without my face, of course!). But invite him into my house without knowing him first? That’s crazy.
I ignored his last text and decided there’s another sign that I need to just get my vibrator out and ignore these dudes. We need to just calm down here. Breathe. Cold shower. Anything!
A little while later I got a sweet text from Francois, a French-Canadian guy I started talking to a couple of weeks ago. Francois seems to be a nice, normal guy, who probably doesn’t have a secret profile of him shirtless in front of his bathroom mirror, and he probably didn’t waste last night sexting with some weird sober instinct-driven alcoholic who needed to be sleeping, meditating, praying, chanting Buddhist mantras, anything, instead of sending naked pictures to creepy dudes she doesn’t know. Am I weird? Well, we’re all weird.
I was relieved with The Doctor aka Arrhythmia Guy (as my friend Kathy and I now call him) bailed and when Jose called it off. It’s just not like the old days when you got drunk at a bar and went home with a guy whose name you didn’t remember the next day. Ah, the good ole days! Just kidding. Thank God I survived.
More on Francois later, but I’ll give you the cliff notes: he lives in DC, loves the outdoors, loves atmospheric indie music, knows a lot about female artists, and his mom died seven years ago. In my head I was like, Oh, your mom died too? Yay! Just kidding, kinda. The music he listens to is a bit sad for me anymore—I used to eat that kind of music up, but now I’m all about happy pop. But most importantly, he asks me questions about me. This morning he sent me a text asking if I’d heard of the band Alvvays, and I replied that I’ve only heard “Archie, Marry Me” but hadn’t heard their other songs. Then he suggested a few other female artists, and says “Headache” by Grouper is especially beautiful. So I did what I do and I immediately went to songmeanings.net and read the lyrics and cried and hoped that if he’s the guy I end up falling for that this isn’t his viewpoint about love and life.
We must stay positive.
Peace and love,