Saturday, October 21, 2006

Read Up On...

third grade grammar and spelling. It's never good when your recipient is thinking, How did my little brother get on this site?

Unfortunately, this post was too late for one of my suitors...

"Hello and good after noon to you. I am new at this so I am not sure how to start off about what to say about my self. I am a single white male, 30, non-smoker. I Have no kids but would like to have some oneday when I meet the right person. I do have a phone that I can send you if you like. Just let me know what e-mail you would like me to send it to."

Well, his grammar and spelling might suck, but I could certainly use a Motorolla.

Sunday, October 15, 2006

Don't Ask, Don't Tell.

Yeah, yeah. I know the slogan's taken. But it's not really effective in the military, so I'd like to have it applied to dating situations such as this...

'Tom' and I have emailed a couple of times and he asks me if I'd like to go out.

"Sure. Sounds great. How about we meet up Friday evening?" Note the use of the term 'meet up'.

"Ok. How does Old Town sound?"


"I know a great Italian restaurant we can go to."

A what? Italian restaurant? Do people really go out to fancy restaurants on their first date?

"Oh. Ok. How does 7:00 sound?"

"Great. See you then."

At this point, I'm still pondering what happened: A restaurant?

Date night

6:50: Shit. I'm gong to be late. I'll just park in this garage. $11! That's bullshit.

6:58: Whew! Made it. I'm glad he suggested meeting on the corner. It's always awkward walking in and looking around for the guy.

7:05: Uh oh. Is this the right corner?

7:10: What the hell? This is definitely the right corner.

7:15: For the love of God! Is my phone working? Maybe I should get out of here.

7:18: "Oh, hey Tom, how are you?" "Oh, no problem!" Lord, this date already sucks.

Tom and I proceed to have a very long and very awkward dinner. Eventually the check arrives.

"Well, that was delicious." Being polite, I begin to reach into my purse. "How much do I owe you?"

"Oh. That's ok. It's on me."

Putting my wallet away, "Well, thank you."

Tom reneging, "Uh, oh, well, if you want to..."

Me, irritated as hell, "No problem."

Now, don't get me wrong. I have no opposition to paying for my own dinner. I am, after all, the one who ate it. However, there are certain situations in which it should be clear who is paying.

Bottom line, don't ask a girl out to a fancy dinner on a first date. But if you must, then don't tell her to pay.

Don't Ask, Don't Tell.

Friday, October 06, 2006

It's ok if you're from another country,

but if you want to flirt with girls who speak English, please have a working knowledge of the language.

"hello baby, how are you and the out going things in your area?good look catch the eyes and personalty catch the heart and you are blessed with but,flattered dont ______ by name.i think i really adore you and i really want to get to know you,cos i belive we could be of use to each other.i shall be glad if you could send me your email looking forward to hearing from id are..."

Sweet talker that he is, I decided not to write back.

Lyin' Lyle

When I first started dating online, I was told: ‘Be careful. The men on there lie about everything. Their height, their job, their income…’

As you can tell, I certainly don’t think all the men online are perfect, but I haven’t actually run into many liars. Until one busted himself.

About six months ago, I got an email from a guy who sounded on the up and up. But, he didn’t have a photo posted. If you’ve been reading this blog, you know I’m not much for men who don’t post their photos. They can only be described with one word, married. Well, this guy sent me a link to look at some pictures of him. In my book, that still means married, but I looked anyway.

Fast forward to an email I received last week. It’s from a guy who sounds pretty cool, but has no photo. At the end of the email he says, “Anyway, since I literally just signed up and my pictures aren't up yet, you can view them through the link below.”

Hmm. This sounds familiar. Copy. Paste. Enter.

Busted. It’s him alright. Lyin’ Lyle. Lucky for him, I’m not Bitchy Becky so I won’t be posting his link.