Edit: I remembered the guy's name!
The ubiquitous Aunt Becky, who also writes for Toy With Me, wrote a post today on online dating. I read it, and it made me laugh a little, but also reminded me of my own brief foray into the world of online dating. . .I know I've regaled this story before, on my old blog, but since that blog is Dead To Me, having died of depression, I'll retell it, since it's relevant. (Thanks, Aunt Becky!) And if you already know the story. . .well, I'll remind you of it!
When I was living in the little mountain town I lived in previously, my relationship status was. . .well, I had none. D and I had an on-again, off-again thing going (which, in and of itself, is a whole other post), and it had been off-again for a little while. I was bored. I was lonely. And I hadn't had a boyfriend proper since November of 2003. (This all took place in the summer of 2008.)
On a whim, I signed up with Match.com, posted a sassy profile, and went hunting for the Mens (and perhaps Ladies) of Haywood and Buncombe County.
Uhm, I imagine that a lot of you don't know North Carolina counties that well, unless you live here (and even then, you probably don't), but the mountains are. . .not the best place for picking people up. I ultimately lucked out with D, but he's not actually FROM there, so that's a different thing. I expanded my search from just the town I was in to towns outside of where I was, out to Asheville, which is the biggest city nearby.
I looked through many profiles, and there was no one who was quite what I was looking for. I looked for men. I looked for women.
Apparently, Match.com only allows you to specify you're looking for one sex, so if you say you're looking for men, no women will be sent your profile and vice versa.
(Get on fixing that, Match.com!)
(Not for me, because OBVIOUSLY, but for other people who don't want to be limited in their searching. Because it happens, y'all.)
So my profile just kind of. . .sat there. I winked at a couple of people, but got no response. I sent a message to one guy, but he told me he was too old for me. It seemed like a gigantic failure. I got a couple of winks and messages from people but they were. . .not my type, to say the least. I got a message from a 54-year-old black man. I have absolutely nothing in the world against black men, but that part of the state is NOT known for its diversity, so it just seemed so, incredibly random.
I got a lot of messages from much, much older men. I either didn't respond (if it was obvious the message was sent out to multiple people with no change in the content) or I sent a "thanks, but no thanks" message.) The oldest guy was 64. I'm just sayin'.
Then one day, I got a message from this guy. I THINK his name was
Louis JAROD!. I don't remember the message, but he seemed nice enough, relatively intelligent, and was 34 to my 24. So, not bad. We exchanged some messages, chatted on the site, and ultimately, I said he could give me a call.
He did. Called me right in the middle of America's Next Top Model, which I was watching religiously that season. I had no TiVo or anything, so I missed the last half of the show for this conversation.
The thing that turned me off immediately was his sex fixation. He didn't say anything explicit or anything, but that was clearly what he thought he was going to get from this. We talked for a while, during which time I asked him, "OK, so, three words to describe yourself. Go."
He said, "Hot, Horny, and Happy."
. . . . . . . .
Sweet Mary, Mother of Jesus. WHAT? The first time you talk to someone? REALLY?
He also kept making innuendo about us hooking up.
Despite all that, he was like, "So, we should go out," and I was like, "OK."
(Desperation makes you do weird, crazy things, my friends. Weird, crazy things.)
I should note here that it was NEVER a thought in my mind that I was going to sleep with this guy. Never, ever. I was still a virgin there at 24, and wasn't ABOUT to give it up to Hot, Horny, Happy
Louis JAROD. (Note: was Not Hot.)
We made plans to go out on Friday (this was on a Wednesday). I hung up with trepidation. Not only had I missed the last half of ANTM, but I had also made a tentative date with a guy who sounded like a Super Creep.
At this point, you're probably saying to yourself, "Sarah. . .why?" and shaking your head at me sadly.
This story, though, has a happy ending. But not for HHH
He called me again the next night, presumably to finalize plans, since we hadn't actually agreed on anything, and he called me DURING GREY'S ANATOMY.
OK, you guys. ANTM, I can excuse. But bitches BETTER NOT CALL ME during Grey's Anatomy. I will not answer. And then I will cut you. And then I will make you apologize. And then I will cut you again.
He left a voicemail. I did not call him back.
Admittedly, this was a crappy, crappy way to do this. But I went to Match.com and sent him a message, saying I "wasn't going to be able to make it on Friday." He sent a message back and was like, "OK."
So instead, I went to the county's big high school football game that everyone turns out for. It was a blast.
I never talked to the guy again. He called me two more times, again during ANTM and Grey's, but I didn't answer.
So really, this is more a story of me not knowing how to deal with a creeper that isn't really aware he's a creeper. So I don't come out looking great.
But I did avoid an awkward conversation about why I was, in fact, not going to have sex with him.
And now I have D.
It all worked out.
(Maybe not for