Online Dating 101: Don’t Be Pathetic.

[First, I want you to know that I’m writing this from my iPad and it’s been a long and fucking frustrating day with no internet access and WordPress being bizarre. So the formatting could be weird and there is no cute image.]

It always shocks me when people seem to think that certain social rules (like, oh, politeness) apply in the online dating twilight zone.


Rude is the new polite.

And questioning other people’s rudeness makes you (a) totally rude and (b) pathetic.

Exhibit A: Newsflash Bob

BACKGROUND: My profile says I’m 46 (I am) and that I’m 5’7″ (I am) and that I’m interested in men who are 45-58 (this changes) who are at least 5’10” tall (this doesn’t change) and who live in a certain geographical area.

Why the height specification? Because I know what I’m attracted to. Yes, I’ve been attracted to less-tall men, but those were specific extraordinary circumstances. I’m not saying less-tall men are any less attractive, they are NOT. I just don’t want to be their GIANT girlfriend.

Anyway. About Bob. (I guess Bob is going to be my generic name for online dudes, until I think of a better, more fitting one.)

First, Match told me that Bob saw me in his “Daily 5″ and was interested. So I took a look at his profile.

Heavy sigh.

Bob says he is 61, but looks much closer to 71. Bob is 5’6” and Bob lives a billion miles away (or a couple hundred miles, either way, he’s outside of my “geographical area of interest”). Of particular concern is that Bob seems to have a lot of dogs that are (a) taller than him, and (b) more intelligent than him, in a deviant way. None of these things are total deal breakers though. So I read his profile.

*HELLO* deal breaker.

Bob, it turns out, writes like a serial killer. I hate to keep using the “serial killer” theme, but it just works. Here’s a snippet of his profile:

HELLO! DID not know BACK in the day nor NOW! what criteria is most important….. Are YOU an educated, strong, witty, feminine women with her own sense of STYLE…?…!…? I LOOK forward to hearing from you…!…!…!…!!!


Then, of course, Bob winks at me.

A couple days later, Bob writes me an excruciatingly long message (NOTE: first messages should never be long, EVER)

Here’s a short excerpt from the message:

Out of your 1362 emails, please READ Mine…! YES I’ll say/ask anything to get an email read…..weeeeeelllll not anything…. But I do hope you take a chance & read my email….I’d LIKE that! Some HOW you popped up in my Daily 5 I found your profile interesting & feel we may share similar interests WHEN trying to figure out which of the roads to explore at each intersection…on the adventures THAT lay AHED! Some RANDOM….. THOUGHTS & sort of things (?)….that we may share and enjoy together! Walking & hiking with my (OUR) dogs…would that

(that is how it ended…?)

Again. WTF?

First, to the trained eye (i.e., MINE) it is obvious that this is Bob’s attempt to make a form letter look like it isn’t a form letter.

Second, Bob writes like a serial killer.

And, finally, Bob is obviously trying to manipulate me into adopting his tall, deviant looking dogs. No thank you, *Bob*.

So, in keeping with online dating etiquette, I ignore Bob’s message.

Bob, however, doesn’t understand how all this works (probably because he is 80 and new to the internet) and becomes somewhat perturbed by my failure to respond.

So he sends this little ray of sunshine message — a full 12 days after the first message.

HELLO recovering extrovert….NEWS flash…!!!!!

[note: in my profile I say something about being a recovering extrovert to highlight the fact that I’m practically a shut-in, of course.] Hi … Stop the presses….and you can stop the 12-step meetings…From my experience…you’ve fully recovered from resembling an extrovert…!…!…!…! Hopefully….YOU’LL prove me wrong

Now Bob has gone too far. “News flash”??

Here’s a newsflash, motherfucker:


Today is your lucky day. YES. I’m writing you, but don’t start CELEBRATING yet.

The thing is, Bob, your attempt to manipulate me into writing you via the use of a snarky “NEWSFLASH” annoyed the shit out of me and, although I generally stay on the high road in these situations, I’m afraid you’ve lured me down to your level.


Here’s a *newsflash* for you Bob:


When a woman doesn’t respond to your indications of interest (a wink, a message, another snippy message….) it isn’t because she is being rude, it is because she ISN’T FUCKING INTERESTED.

If I were nothing but a rude bitch, as you imply, I would’ve responded to your first indecipherable message with something like this:

Old Dude —


How dare you clog up my inbox with your pathetic attempt at making a poorly written form letter look like some kind of personal message. If you had read my profile, you would know that you are NOWHERE NEAR what I’m looking for in age, body type or geographical area.


I have no idea what it is that you think we have in common.


For one thing, I’m not attracted to men whose “dress” pants sit up under their nipples. My great-grandfather wore his pants like that when he was like 97 and cute. You’re not cute. Put your pants where normal people wear them for the love of God.


For another thing, you write like a serial killer, Bob. Have you ever read anything about serial killers? Seen any movies (those newfangled things they show at the theater?) about serial killers? They all do weird shit with capitalization and punctuation, Bob and they just fucking LOVE ellipses…


Finally, I like dogs, but your dogs are weird as shit and I’m super freaked out that you’re wanting to *share* them with me. They look like they are taller than you, Bob and I see a little deviance in their eyes. And if those are your “children” (the middle-aged adults with the glassy eyes and drugged out droopy faces) with you and the dogs in that picture I’m even more concerned. The dogs are deviant and they are the most alert looking sentient beings in your photos. Don’t write me again or I will notify the authorities of the whereabouts of you and your scary little “clan”…


And I didn’t want to hurt your ellipses-loving FEELINGS, so I did the nice, polite and proper thing and I didn’t write to you at all.

Then you got all snarky “NEWSFLASH!” on me for no apparent reason and now look what happened.

I’ve had to use you as an example of bad shit that happens when people start acting pathetic in the online dating world.

The lesson here, Bob, is that when a person doesn’t respond to your online overtures of interest, that IS your response. Move on and stop embarrassing absolutely everyone.




[the *extra-bitchy* in today’s post is brought to you by “the internet is fucking down” and “3g is slow” and “WordPress is trying to ruin my entire life!!” and “how the fuck do you format posts on the iPad?” and my period. :)]


Dear Mr. Attension to Detail, I’m dreaming of one of these in pink metal. Love, Violet.

So there I was, obsessively sifting through online profiles of unsuspecting men who happen to live within 200 miles of me, hoping to find either true love or someone to humiliate on my blog (or both, naturally) when Mr. “Attension to Detail” (hereinafter “Bob”) sent me a virtual wink.

 Heavy sigh.

I kind of feel sorry for him, honestly.

Which means I  feel sorry for him in the exact same way that I feel a little twinge of sorry for the religious zealot who shows up at my door with a pamphlet and and no idea that I’m actually Satan.  In the flesh.  [insert fake smile]  Which is to say, of course, that I don’t feel sorry for him at all, because I didn’t ask him to choose to identify himself as Mr. Ironically Misspelled Headline  and to then make his headline even more ridiculous by writing this:

I am easy going and someone that lives life.I like to have fun no matter what i am doing even at work.I am the person who can fix anything and don’t need to call the guy, I am The Gay. Looking for someone that wants to make life an adventure not a chore.Looking for someone that likes to go on motorcycle rides,Camping,Vegas,anywhere there is a beach,and just hang out.I can make any situation fun and can be serious when need be.Also I like to build things out of Metal.You dream it i can build it.I have no baggage just luggage.Lets make this are first adventure together.
And I sure as hell didn’t ask him to *wink* (a/k/a the lamest, most passive-aggressive-ist thing to do to indicate that you are kinda, sorta, in a “I’m too lazy to write even one little word” way semi-interested in another person on an online dating site) at me at 5:30 on a Thursday afternoon (a/k/a the “Oh Shit It’s Thursday And I Don’t Have a Date Lined Up for the Weekend” witching hour in online dating world) when I was feeling particularly snarky and jaded.
So, feeling grateful for the material that had just fallen into my lap, I decided to totally fuck with Bob.
Dear Bob,
I don’t know how to fully explain the emotional rollercoaster you have put me through today, but I’m going to try, which is all anyone can do in this life, right?
When I first became aware of  your indication of interest, I was all  “Oh look, a man who lives in my state and isn’t 72 and/or wearing overalls in his profile picture is showing me some attention!”  This was followed up with confusion because, as I’m sure you know (or maybe you don’t, which I’m starting to doubt) sending someone a wink online is super passive-aggressive and could mean anything at all, Bob, even something sinister.
Let me explain.  One time I had a one night stand brief relationship with a guy who, as it turns out, was completely psychotic and I’m not even making that part up, he really was. I know that because I’m kind of an expert at internet research and I tend to check out stories people tell me about things like how they have a criminal record, but that it is totally unjustified because the police completely overreacted and they were unjusty prosecuted all because they barely threatened their ex-mother-in-law (with a loaded weapon) in front of the grocery store, which they wouldn’t have even thought of doing if she hadn’t been stalking them and trying to kill them, with her mind.
Anway. Bob. None of that happened exactly as he described it, obviously, so I got scared and stopped responding to his incessant calls/emails/IM’s and texts.  I was hoping he would get the hint and back off, but, as you know, that kind of reasonable behavior doesn’t sit well with psychos, plus I am really good at sex and he wanted more, so he switched up his game and started calling/emailing/IM-ing and texting me about the (probably imaginary) naked pictures of me that he said he had taken with the (probably imaginary) spy camera that he had purchased so he would have evidence of his ex-mother-in-law’s (probably imaginary) attempts to kill him, with her mind.  You know, the pictures that I couldn’t be totally sure didn’t exist….  Then he promised he would probably not post the probably imaginary pictures on the internet if  I would just meet with him one more time to talk about “us”. 
 This actually happened, Bob.  
I finally had to take drastic measures to block all avenues of communication with him.  Then, several years later, I innocently put a profile up on and guess who “winked” at me about 5 minutes thereafter?  YES, Mr. Psychotic With Probably-Imaginary-Naked-Pictures!  And, Bob, I’m pretty sure his “wink” wasn’t the “Oh hey, I think you’re pretty!” type wink.  It was more along the lines of  “Oh hey bitch, I’m still around and I’ve still got those pictures, just so you know.  Good luck!”
Anyway, Bob, all I’m saying is that a wink can mean anything and I’m starting to wonder what exactly yours meant. 
I’m usually a pretty good judge of character and my sense is (after seeing your profile picture wherein you look somewhat dodgy and paranoid just sitting there on your little motorcycle in your garage, which is entirely closed up  and appears to be neatly organized and unnaturally clean, which probably means that (a) you took the picture from your secret garage spy camera, and (b) you do things in your garage that you don’t want people to know about, including power washing your victim’s blood off the walls, for one thing, and obsessing over your little motorcyle, for another) that you didn’t mean well, and that certainly destroyed any enthusiasm I had about being noticed, Bob.
But then I saw your headline — “Attension to Detail” — and thought “What a clever play on words!  This guy couldn’t possibly be a serial killer, he’s funny!” and I was all excited again.
Imagine my disappointment, Bob, when I realized, shortly thereafter, that not only was it  highly unlikely that you intentionally misspelled “attention” in order to make a clever little “play on words” type headline, you also seem to be completely unfamiliar with the most basics rules of the English language.  I’m talking about things like spelling, punctuation and capitalization, Bob, not to mention using language to convey meaning.  And that made me feel bad.  Not for judging you based on how you write (please….) but bad about the fact that your writing is so, well, bad.  Oh, and about how now it’s pretty clear that you’re probably a serial killer, Bob.  Not cool.
Then I saw that you’re The Gay and that you like to build things with Metal.  Huge. Fucking. Relief.  I finally know who The Gay is!  So, even though the whole “I like to build things out of Metal” is probably  just more circumstantial evidence of your reign of terror as The Gay serial killer, I think something good can come from this whole “winking” encounter after all, which I’m sure makes you feel less bad about your previous threatening actions online, right Bob?
To that end, I’ve enclosed a picture of a chastity belt that I would like you to make out of metal, preferably finished with a shiny pink enamel, if it isn’t too much trouble.
Well, pink matches my cookie and I’m starting to think life would be less complicated if I could just refrain from having casual sex (or any sex, really) with psychotic and/or delusional and/or serial killer-type men who hold grudges (apparently) but everyone knows that I don’t have a lot of willpower sometimes, so that is where the pink metal chastity belt will come in — it will make me feel pretty, Bob, and it will probably save my life. 
p.s.  I think I will need at least 5 keys FOR EMERGENCIES, Bob…
Bob hasn’t responded, yet.