My name is Mrs. Darcy, and I’m a hope-aholic.
Despite my abhorrence of internet dating and my truly Stephen King-ish experiences with many dating sites, I currently keep a profile up on one of them. Why? Probably because I don’t want to find myself as an old lady, Sage Stallone-ing it or becoming “that weird old lady who lives alone with all those cats.”
I don’t do much with the site other than keep a 5-sentence pitch of what I’m looking for–basically a normal guy who also doesn’t want to be on there and would rather be at home watching a football game or at a bar actually watching the game and not the half-naked floozies slutting it up. My last line is “If you are that guy, I’d love to ‘meet by chance’ at a predetermined place and have you ask me out. Like it was in the old days.”
Now, from that I think it’s pretty clear that I’m not into weird stuff. I’m interested in normal, old-fashioned boy-and-girl dating.
Usually when this site sends me emails of my “matches”, it’s of potential suitors that look like someone’s grandfather or Eric Stoltz’s character from Mask or a replica of George Costanza. What follows is that I hate my life, get severely depressed, emotionally eat cookie dough or ice cream, and then have a rage blackout at this dating site. (“THAT? That’s what you think I deserve?”)
But, the other day, I had a message and when I clicked on this person’s profile, I did not throw up in my mouth nor strain a muscle desperately searching for the X on my Firefox tabs. This person was not a midget, looked decent-bordering on attractive, and seemed athletic and funny. So the chance of him truly being any of these was at least 40%. Those are pretty high odds.
His profile mentioned liking football, having a “goofy and dry wit” as well as a “sarcastic sense of humor”. He also said he was the kind of guy I’d be “proud to introduce to my family and friends” and that he is good at hugging. And he also visits a senior center once a week and did not mention Amelie as a favorite movie. Sounds acceptable. Even bordering on…good.
Of course he also mentioned he likes pig tails and “the perfect bj”, and it’s a bonus if the girl has a “pierced tongue”. And there was mention of a “naughty librarian” and the words “dominant” and “submissive”. Well, I just chalked that up to his “dry wit” and “sarcastic sense of humor”. I mean, that was a Fifty Shades of Grey joke, wasn’t it? He said, “Please read my entire profile and be sure you ‘get’ it.” Get the humor, right? When he said he didn’t want someone “vanilla”, I’m thinking he doesn’t want someone without a sense of humor.
I’m right, right? I mean, he emailed me after reading MY profile.
So, inspired by my Scottish idol at Caligula Would Have Blushed (and if you haven’t read this blog, you must. It’s hilarious!), I decided to reply. I mean, after all, if she can go on a date with a clown and a comedian, then I can try to communicate with this person. She makes it sound so…fun!
So, this guy and I exchanged a few emails, and it was all going well.
Him: hows (this dating site) treating you?
Me: I like the fact that you like pig tails. Or did you mean pigs’ tails? Either way. I don’t have a tongue piercing, though. That may be a deal breaker.
Him: thanks for the kind words. you are intelligent and open-minded. I meant pig tails…smile
Me: And I’m really bad at small talk. So, I’ll just ask you…what do you do? thoughts? (He’d asked me those questions. And I really am bad at small talk.)
(Interrupting here…so can you see how this is a very normal conversation? Right? He seems receptive of my joking and all seems…well, normal.)
And then, THIS happens…
Him: I take it you too prefer dominant/submissive relationships as stated in my profile. Thoughts?
THOUGHTS? I thought you were kidding. I thought that was your “sarcastic sense of humor” showing through. I thought you were….NORMAL.
When I said the above (in slightly different, more kind wording…because to be honest, I still hoped this was part of the joke), he responded with…
Him: wow, its rare I run into someone that isnt aware of Dom/sub relationships, its very popular, you can google it if you like.
I CAN GOOGLE IT IF I LIKE? IT’S VERY POPULAR? With whom, the freaks at your local perv-aholics meetings? The women at your Fifty Shades of Grey book club meetings?
Oh. My. Gosh. He was not kidding. I was matched up with Christian Grey. All the things I took for his “sarcastic sense of humor” were not jokes at all. It must have been the football and museums and senior citizen visits that were the “dry wit” he possessed. And the part about being someone I could be proud to take home to my family? Really, he thinks my mother would want her daughter dating a Perv?
How could I have been so wrong?
How? I’ll tell you…HOPE. I hoped that it was truly possible for me to find a normal, sports-loving, nice boy. I hoped that the Universe did in fact love me. I hoped that this time, it would be different.
It isn’t. It doesn’t. And it wasn’t.
So, I’m back where I started, only slightly more scarred now.
I’m sad I gave into the hope, but I’ll tell you, there’s really only one thing I truly regret about this experience…
I never asked him if he had a long-fingered, beautifully manicured hand.