Let’s kick off the morning with the $15.95 steak dinner downtown. It’s not the Diplomat yet, but it’s getting there. I’ve not lost my taste for beef done to perfection. I can make it better; it’s there’s something about having someone else do all the fussing. Thank you, bingo. On the return leg, I stopped at the flea market for all the doodads I’ve been running short on. Ah, Sundays. Proof there are no single women between 24 and 48 in the state of Florida.I’m slowly catching on to the features of my dating site. If there was anything novel to tell you, I would. My guess is the majority of the women have posted on dozens of sites and are hopelessly jaded. You know how women complain if they don’t wear makeup, men don’t hit on them. Yeah, well unless you start by telling women you’re a millionaire superhero and ten feet tall, you get no response. That seems to be a common ground on all the sites I’ve checked.
Why am I suddenly checking? Well, I want to spend my birthday out of state this year. Out west, getting a quality date was easy. Then again, I was one of three men in an office of 297 women. But besides that I mean. I miss taking off for the Oregon coast in mid-winter week with Liz, or Marty, or Crazy Liz. Plus, you could find somebody to go to dutch to the more expensive places. Try that here.
Additionally I checked a few video dating sites but instantly picked up all the women (all, as in every last one) was displaying highly conditioned behavior. As a young musician, I saw years ago that women in jock bars (now called sports bars), acted differently than in other clubs. They developed, the “Oh, baby” and “Yeah, baby” routines, unnatural mannerisms that they came to believe all men like, when in fact it is only the big stupid men. Now I see these women on video are totally into that nonsense. Like tattoos, it represents a direction I don’t go.
Speaking of tattoos, have you seen the latest? Florescent ink. The dragons head is visible in daylight, then under black light, the dragon’s body appears. Creepy that anyone would associate that with sexy. On my dating site you will get hundreds of replies to a generic search, but if you put two simple criteria, “white” and “protestant”, you get seven replies from the entire eastern seaboard. There isn’t a filter for “no tattoos”.
I also checked the Unitarian church bulletin. Their roster is more limited than I expected. I’m not really into joining the choir and don’t care for AA meetings relabeled as “free thinkers”. When you click on a follow up, the church site now redirects you to Google calendar who would like a little information about you for their files.
It looks like I may be taking that trip by myself if at all. Sorry to any readers expecting romance and fast living. The few women on the date lines that say they just want friendship are using that as a decoy or frequently as a defensive barrier. I understand that. I didn’t say I liked it. If you want to be friends, are you willing to pay your own half? Aha. Don’t we all love those women who want you to court them under the guise of friendship, then after you’ve picked up the tab they go home to their unemployed boyfriend. Ooops, sorry Kim Kritz if I blew your cover!
After five days on the dating site, I see that there are no professionals there. The women are generally average and the guys are a bunch of deadbeats who can’t tolerate competition. Their profiles read like the stale resumes we used to shred every six months. Music is still by far the best way to meet women, particularly the naturally open women who don’t have to play games. I put on my profile that I was 5 foot 5 to throw to see who made an issue of it. I’ve had some semi-avid responses, but on average 960 miles away.
What have I learned? Most people on dating sites are pretty slow-witted and hypercritical. I generally could care less what a guy says about himself. But when men discover you are a musician, all of your girlfriends suddenly become “groupies with STDs”. We’ve got one bozo in there who is proud that he posts a thousand criticisms per day. He lives out on the prairies, ‘nuff said. He gets mention not for the number, but for his foul mouth. Like the others, he’s operating in some kind of mental vacuum. For instance, they say I am a bad musician and can’t write. How do you figure that? Ah, because they lie about themselves and assume you do, too.
