Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Hop on my Rascal, let’s go for a spin

My new boyfriend and me.

I think I’m breaking up with you, Match. I'll just make Clancy Wiggum my new boyfriend.

It was all fun and games and online shopping for boys in the beginning, but a few recent setbacks have shown me the light.(I winked at a guy I’d already gone on a date with, and hated, and totally forgotten about. It took a lot for me to admit that.) Apparently I’m a huge wink slut. It’s also come to my attention that I’m actually out of single guys in the nation’s biggest city.

But the nail in the coffin has to be this tale of woe and bewilderment (and anger! Lots of anger!)

A year ago this guy and I had been emailing back and forth and had agreed to meet up for coffee. He seemed totally normal. But then he got concerned that my fat ass was going to not be worth 15 minutes of his life. Our exchange went a little something like this:

Him: You only have face pics, no body. That's not fair. What does your body look like?

Ah romance.

Me: (My hackles raised with ten kinds of indignation): I’m 800 pounds and ride around on a Rascal. Didn’t you see me on Maury last week?

Him: This obviously isn’t going to work. You’re the most passive-aggressive person I’ve ever met in my life.


So after a few days of retelling the story - my outrage and arm gestures getting more out of control with each telling - I went on to date someone else. After the breakup when I started up with Match again guess who was waiting for me, I assume not remembering our little exchange?

He winked at me four times in the span of a few weeks so I finally wrote:

Funny story {recount story here}. So how’s this for direct: Never contact at me again.

So then he like totes passed a note to Sarah in study hall and Mrs. Hamilton intercepted it and made him read it in front of the whole cla…zzzzzzzzzzz. What?

He sent me Match’s form rejection letter, which says something condescending like, “I’m sure you’re great for someone, just not me. We don’t match based on (fill in the blanks) physical attraction. Good luck in your search!”

Aw hells naw, son.

I blocked him, but he’s back with a new screenname! And he winked at me again today.

Me: I’m still 800 pounds, but you clearly want me. Let's do this.

7 comments:

Untrainable said...

I decided to break up with Match when totally normal-seeming guys, after several e-mail and phone conversations started getting angry when I wouldn't . . . ah . . . pleasure myself while on the phone with them.

Yeah, we're done.

Courtney said...

He decided you're passive aggressive because you didn't give him any body pictures? Yeah, that's logical.

What a tool!

i like cheese said...

I have more horror stories involving dating websites than I care to admit...let's just say that after a guy told me he wanted to marry me, before we'd ever even had a PHONE exchange...I was done!

@ untrainable: what the HELL is up with the dudes trolling for phone sex? I had that happen to me numerous times as well. I'm ALL for phone sex, don't get me wrong, but I'd like to actually MEET and be ATTRACTED to the guy first!!!

Jacob said...

But seriously, if I don't know what you look like below the waste, how am I going to know if you're going to be sturdy enough to fetch my bathwater from the well out back every night, or delicate enough to fit into my dead mother's wedding dress?

Jacob said...

meant neck instead of waste. It's rather sad that I confused your neck for trash. I really don't care what's under your waste.

Red said...

Hahahahaha.

Maddie said...

Oh, the romance and horror of Match. I finally found a guy I liked via Match...but only after the modern equivalent of kissing MANY frogs (extremely awkward exchanges in Starbucks). I almost gave up when one particularly horrific guy detailed what it's like to watch a femur cut in half and screw braces into to to make it "grow." And I was all, "Are you going to do that to me before or after I finish my GHB cappuccino?"