#121. Online Dating Neanderthals

Now that my broken foot is healing, albeit slowly and painfully, and I’m not looking like a resident of a bell tower anymore, I figured that I should get back into the dating world.

I feel good about myself and am in a good place. It might be time to meet a together male companion when I don’t need ‘saving’ and my crazy, depressive divorce days are long behind me. When better to date?

The internet has brought many things into our homes, and among them is finding BDSM dating sites where you can find the person who makes your fantasies come true. Some people are turned on by anticipation, and would be thrilled to meet a new person if only they had the chance. Others simply want someone to spend time with-a person who shares their interests as well as their fantasies. These are the people who would be good candidates for a long term relationship.

The first thing that you need to do in order to get started in the free world of online lesbian bdsm dating is to get yourself ready. This means preparing your personality so that you will not come across as some frumpy or even clingy. You should know how to dress, since this will affect the way that other people view you. You will also have to come up with a great cover photo for your online dating profile. This is not necessary, but it sure helps a lot in projecting an image of confidence and desirability.

After all that, you should now look for an online lesbian dating sites that matches up to your fetishes. There are many lesbian websites available, and most of them will be able to accommodate your tastes. Most kinky dating sites will allow you to post your photo as well as a description of who you are. This will ensure that other members of this kinky community can find you easily and without hassle. You might want to join a fetish dating site that requires a fee, but these are usually pretty decent places. 

I was going to be very discriminating during this round of online dating. and adhere to only the highest standards. It was time to be picky, so I wrote my online profiles (OK CUPID & Tinder) carefully to reflect the respectful kind of man that I was seeking and hopefully scare off the players.

However, most messages were from creepy men I wouldn’t allow to fix my backed up toilet, let alone date. Here is one such example of the charmers that messaged me through OK Cupid:

“Good Evening how are you tonight? To be brutally honest I have a foot fetish and I enjoy giving deep tissue foot massages. I was wondering if you would be okay with me massaging your feet and kissing them whenever you want. What do you think? I’m Bill by the way.”

Ewwwwwe. Really?

Does he also like to chain women up in his basement and torture them while he’s dressed like a clown?

Guess I should respect his honesty which is a very rare commodity in the online dating world. From the onslaught of UBU messages, I suspected that I would likely never date again and was becoming truly afraid of the male gender. The quality of available men was so disturbingly substandard that I could feel the strength of my Xenophobia being reaffirmed with actual evidence. It was like the age appropriate pool of single men was the result of some sadistic series of medical experiments gone horribly wrong. I was scared!

But then I noticed an old acquaintance from my childhood had viewed my profile. He always struck me as a decent yet slightly arrogant guy, but what’s a little arrogance? Better than a foot fetish… Anyway, maybe he was just confident and I misconstrued his bravado. It was twenty years ago and his current online dating profile looked sane enough, even appealing. Besides, I remembered that he had a really rare sense of humour. Maybe I would find him attractive now that I’m older, wiser and more mature.

I sent him a message to say ‘hello’. He eagerly responded right away and asked if I wanted to get together that same evening. I declined it was Downton Abbey night with my dog, but after mulling it over and realizing that it’s probably healthy to actually go out on a date when you are supposedly making an effort to date, I agreed to meet him a couple of days later. At the very least, we could catch up and have a good laugh – which is exactly how I framed my intentions to him. He did make a couple of flirtatious comments, but I ignored them awaiting an actual in-person meeting before jumping into that pool.

A few days later it was date night, so I texted him midday to solidify the details. When he inquired about my schedule, I mentioned that I had a ‘spa appointment’ at 2:00pm, but could meet him anytime after that. Here is the exact quote of the text I received in response:

“You get the Brazilian I come over to inspect?…It’s shitty and raining…Let’s drink. I will bring some wine and a doobie and catch up with you. We can watch a movie…You’re injured so I’m trying to make it easy.“

EXCUSE ME????

This character was inviting himself over to my apartment to get drunk and stoned? What should my son who lives with me be doing during this scene from a trailer park? Is this middle aged yahoo fucking kidding me? And what’s with the reference to my genital grooming? What is that his business? Talk about crude and crass. What is this guy 16 years old?

I was so insulted. Does this approach actually work with women?

I clearly stated during an earlier exchange that I do NOT do drugs or drink alcohol. I understand how one might smoke a joint at a cottage once in a while, but there is nothing more pathetic than watching a middle aged man endlessly smoke pot and laugh at his non-interesting self like an idiot.

And about this ‘wine’ that Mr. Big Time is going to spring for? Red or white? He never asked which one I would prefer, IF I DID DRINK WHICH I DON’T. Geez, this guy should just travel with some Sodium Pentothal to avoid any needless conversation or protests to his guaranteed sexual advances…

What an asshole.

After some thought I texted back that there was no need to stay-in on my account as I had a walking cast that enabled my mobility to GO OUT for coffee and a bite. (Not that I was going anywhere with him, but curious to see how far this idiot would go.)

He immediately responded in text with, “Come to (his home address) by 5:00 cuz I have a 9:00 dinner to get to.“

Now wait just a minute…

He wants me to hobble in my walking cast into a cab, pay for said cab, and deliver myself over to his house like a fucking pizza?! He wasn’t even going to pick me up? As if that weren’t degrading enough, he was scheduling me in like a root canal?

Mr. Wonderschlong needs a reality check.

I was so offended and disgusted. I had NOT been flirtatious with him in any way to warrant any sexual expectations. I quickly made some delicately framed excuse to not see him and ended the exchange. Uch.

As I sat alone cringing and replaying the interaction with Mr. Wonderschlong to investigate my possible participation, I became increasingly disappointed in myself.

Why was I polite towards him?  Why didn’t I tell Mr. Wonderschlong what a creep he was? Why did I feel compelled to retain any sense of decorum after such treatment?  He certainly didn’t show me any respect, and yet I was the one politely extricating myself to avoid any unpleasantries.  Wouldn’t this have been a situation where a confrontation was warranted?  What am I scared of? Why didn’t I stand up for myself? Fuck!

Online again I went and blocked Mr. Wonderschlong.

Maybe I’d have better luck on Tinder.  Within minutes, I found myself instant chatting with Adam, who seemed like a genuine prospect. Maybe there were some good men left!

It turned out that Adam was the brother of Sam, a friend I knew during high school and University. We were good friends actually. I really liked Sam.

Sam was always a brilliant, funny, interesting individual who is of course now married with two kids. I would have liked to have been Sam’s girlfriend back in the day, but in the friend zone I was. I could only be friends with Sam as he never thought of me beyond friendship and I never felt worthy of a guy like him.

Actually, Sam was the one who introduced me to my son’s father as they were roommates in law school together. Sam warned me to get away from my now ex just after we started dating, claiming to have unavoidably listened to my ex’s constant, irrational screaming fits and unjustified character attacks directed at every single girl he ever dated at all hours of the day and night. But I didn’t listen, as the abusive man described by Sam was so foreign from the perfect man I knew. The love we had was different. We were soulmates…

But getting back to Sam’s brother Adam on Tinder.

Adam was divorced and seemingly dedicated to his two kids under ten, relatively handsome, (not as handsome as Sam), witty, and an Insurance Lawyer who lives two blocks away from me. We texted back and forth for about a half an hour. I told Adam of how highly I thought of his entire family, (whom I had previously met with the exception of Adam). This family really is right out of a picturesque American Thanksgiving Butterball turkey commercial.

Adam requested that I not tell his brother about our communication on Tinder, as he likes to keep his private life private. That sounded reasonable to me, besides I see his brother maybe once a year now anyway. Adam quickly called and we graduated to a phone conversation which was very promising. He told me about his kids, job and admitted that he’s not interested in pursuing a serious relationship at this time.

That seemed alright with me as I am in no rush for anything. Have I not learned anything? A relationship is not the goal as much as getting to know new people.  Broaden my horizons.  Get out of my comfort zone.  Since I adore his brother, I figured that the odds were good that Adam and I would likely click too.

After praising my wit and charm, Adam suddenly changed the conversational tone. Out of the blue, he mentioned that he had never paid for sex. I was confused how we got from witty banter to Hookers without a beat.

It never crossed my mind that Adam was a Hooker goer. Yet, Adam continued to reveal that Tinder was flooded with Hookers and reiterated, again and again, that he would never pay for sex. There was a strange tone of pride in his repeated heroic proclamations of only engaging in ‘free sex’, as if an achievement deserving of a badge of honour.

I was soon to realize that I was being ‘groomed’ through the whole telephone exchange as he crafted his charm and finely tuned script. Adam casually mentioned how important being in optimal physical shape is for him, (all 5’4 inches of him – I’m 5’5), and asked how fit I am.

“Well, I’ve done yoga everyday for three years, don’t drink and eat healthy, so I’m in pretty good shape,” I texted back.

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Adam responded.

HUH? Judge of what? What was he talking about?  Am I entering into some pageant unbeknownst to me?

Adam then sleazed in for the kill.

“I don’t feel like going to the gym tonight.  Why don’t you come over and we can workout in other ways.”

Oh boy.  Here we go again. Jesus.

My thoughts were swimming in Purell.  Words were failing as I was mortified! But my silence didn’t faze Adam who filled the empty space with relentlessly escalating sexually provocative remarks. He actually framed his proposition as an opportunity to see if I was good enough for him to have sex with! Like I should be so lucky!

I had to address the delusional and offensive nature of his egomaniacal sexual entitlement.  He’s like a notch under a rapist.

But what would I say?  How could I stand up to this character who is clearly clinically self centered?  I felt timid. But why should I be intimidated?  I had every right, no – obligation to address the offensive nature of his sexual advances! I took a deep breath.

“Adam. We don’t know each other. I am not sure why you are communicating on a sexual level and propositioning me – a total stranger whom you have not even met – but it is making me very uncomfortable“, I said in a calm tone.

Annoyed as if I were wasting his precious time by leading him on, Adam responded, “Well, I told you that I wasn’t interested in a relationship. I’m not going to accidentally fall in love with you, if that’s what you think. I told you that. Thought we might have some fun together – that’s it. I don’t need any  drama“, said The Great and Powerful Wizard of Flaws.

Wow.

Why is it that anytime a woman addresses a man’s objectionable behaviour and/or treatment, her comments are immediately discredited and treated as the product of an inferior, desperate, obtuse and emotionally unstable Drama Queen?

What was Adam’s logic with the two extremes of either a ‘relationship/love’ or ‘casual sex’ as the only possibilities on the vast spectrum of human interaction? Adam’s logic can only be the product of an inferior, desperate, obtuse and emotionally unstable Drama Queen. Snap!

The real comedy of this entire exchange was that Adam was in fact looking for a Hooker!  He just didn’t want to pay for one!  Manipulative Creep. Yuck.

So after being treated like a whore all day. I had to erase the NEGATIVE energy from my realm and have a positive experience with a man.  They couldn’t all be assholes!

The next day, I resumed my online quest for a nice, well-intentioned, decent man to meet. I ended up sharing some polite chitchat on OK Cupid’s instant messaging with Steve, a 50ish, employed, divorced man with two kids. He looked quite attractive from his side angled profile picture. Best of all, he invited me to attend a film screening in a public theatre with him. Translation: his singular goal was not to lure me to his lair for a raucous fun-filled night of sexual assault like Mr. Wonderschlong or The Great and Powerful Wizard of Flaws.

At least Steve had the wherewithal to make proper date plans. That night, I hobbled over in my walking cast to meet my film date at a local coffee shop, before taking the subway down to the screening together. As he approached, my thoughts were, ‘He’s okay. A little slight and dainty, but I’ll give this a real chance.’

I smiled and greeted him. Forget about complementing me on how nice I looked, this guy told me that since he was supplying the film tickets (which he got for free from his friend) that I could buy the coffees. Maybe he was trying to be funny?

It was at that moment that this little man took off his sunglasses to reveal that he had a serious cross-eyed affliction. He looked like Columbo. I couldn’t tell where he was looking!

Now I just felt bad for him and paid for the coffees. However, my pity rapidly depleted as we walked towards the subway where he kept walking fast requiring me to repeatedly request that he slow down due to the cast on my foot. Upon arrival at the subway, he dropped in a token for himself in turnstile and walked through looking at me on the other side as if, ‘Come on, pay your fare and lets go‘.  So I paid the $3.00 token to travel on the public transit system and met him on the other side of the turnstile.

The duration of the subway ride and movie line-up consisted of this boring little Columbo clone nattering endlessly about himself and all of the women that he had been meeting through the online dating site. I could barely get a word in. I tried to talk, but he would interrupt and literally talk over me. I was so annoyed. I wanted to step on him and squash the little bugger. Yes, he was harmless, but also inconsiderate and rude!

I escaped quickly after the film wondering what the hell I was doing with this guy and all of the other online men. I keep getting the same disastrous results with online dating, yet I keep trying it! WHY??? I guess because everyone else is doing it? Well, that’s what the German citizens probably said to themselves when joining the Nazi party…

In reality, this online dating thing seems to be lottery for male Antisocial Personality Disorders, as women are voluntarily offering themselves as prey. I’m not clear on how we women decided that inviting a complete online stranger into a our lives would be a great idea.  It’s likely the most dangerous thing we can do short of jumping off a cliff. If I am ever suicidal, I’ll certainly keep it on mind.

There is clearly a global sociopathic contagion at work. The female gender has been socialized since birth to become the unsuspecting prey to a demeaning and insidiously veiled abusive standard of treatment by men. When we finally muster up the courage to confront or reject any form of this barbarism, we are judged, blamed and ridiculed for our abhorrent character defects that, if not created an abusive dynamic, freely consents to it.

Every time a woman is discounted, degraded and demeaned, it erodes her self-worth and reaffirms her main purpose as Man’s Doormat. It seems the majority of the female gender is suffering from this epic form of Stockholm Syndrome. Why are we women allowing ourselves to be treated so poorly? It’s time to consciously deconstruct this blindly accepted societal model of female indentured slavery by not participating in its Narcissistic, male created mores.

My bullshit cup runneth over.

I returned home after Columbo’s free date and logged back onto the dating site with the sole purpose of deleting my profile only to find that Columbo had already sent me a message. Evidently, Columbo had a great time on his free date and wanted to get together to continue ‘our’ chat over a drink. A drink. Do I get to pay for that too? And why if this man is interested in seeing me again, why is he not asking me out for a proper dinner date?

Do men not take women out for a meal anymore? Is the restaurant industry facing a crisis? And what about the prostitution trade? Hookers must be facing a serious recession with all these no self-esteem women putting out for free. The floral market is likely in big trouble too. I picture an unsuspecting Dutch population overrun by a jungle of Tulips in Holland because the cheap bastards around the world aren’t buying flowers for their dates anymore. No wonder the economy is in such a poor state! Forget the mortgage and lending debacle. These online dating sites are the real culprit responsible for the collapse of the global economy.

I deleted both of my profiles. For good. I care about dating about as much as I care about attending a senate meeting of Saudi officials. (Actually, that would probably be a lot like dating!)

I don’t have any desire to tempt any near death experiences or have my dwindling opinion of the male gender reduced further. If my options are being single and celibate OR spending time with these Antisocial Personality Disordered Neanderthals, then I choose singledom every time! No contest!

For any women insisting on continuing the search for her fantasy-non-existent-soulmate motivated by some carefully designed fairy-tale, fear based prison that enslaves her true potential, can I make a suggestion?

Keep a piece of raw meat in your purse to throw at a man who decides to behave like a beast. If they want raw meat? Give it to them!