Misadventures in Online Dating

Warning: a crass and somewhat shocking sexual term follows. If you're offended by this...heck, you wouldn't be reading my blog.
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Since I didn't know the area - though I work part-time in his neighborhood - he chose a first date dinner spot: Buffalo Wings. When I arrived, a man strolled out of the eatery's front entrance. He appeared a much older, much more bald version of the man whose on-line photos I'd liked. So it goes...

"Hi, Mr. BJ, good to meet you," I said, with a forced smile.

Mr. BJ gave me a side-hug. "Good to meet you," he grinned. "I just went in for a minute, and that place is really loud and crowded. I'm wondering if you want to go somewhere else?" 

Duh. That place is party-central for drunken college kids. He just realized it's loud? "Sure, I'm not a fan. What else is around here? I'm easy."

"Why don't we go to BJs?" Oops, maybe I shouldn't have said I'm easy. But It can't mean THAT. I agreed.

As we sat in the semi-crowded, semi-loud restaurant waiting for our food, conversation was forced. By this I mean, I was the only one skilled in basic discourse - as he focused on his phone, showed me pictures of himself and his brother, and was generally odd.

"So, what does BJ really stand for?" I couldn't let it go.

With pride and confidence, he blurted out: "blow job!" Mr BJ proceeded to work himself up into a laughing frenzy.

A sweet young waitress approached our table.

Mr BJ readily asked her, "What does BJ stand for?"

"Um, I think it's someone's name, but I'm not sure."

"Oh, 'cuz she asked me, and I told her" - his voice got louder and prouder - "it means blow job!"

The waitress glanced at me sympathetically. "Well that's awkward," she said.

"It really is," I agreed. "And on a first (and last) date too. I don't know what menu he's looking at, but that won't be served tonight."

He kept giggling. Really, dude? You're like old and graying and a grandpa and you think you're like the next Jay Leno.

Needless to say, Mr. BJ did not get a BJ that night. Though a follow-up text from him said something about thunderstorms, I had no response. I have no desire to engage in thunderous BJs or talk thereof with Mr. BJ.

Instead, I'm defaulting to the tried-and-true threesome:
(1) chocolate,
(2) batteries, and
(3) chocolate.

Have a great, safe, week, dear sillies.

Online Dating, Sloths, and A-Z Reveal

Remember Einstein, breeder and milker of sloths? He's hard to forget, and he wrote back. Try as I might to keep the exchange sloth-relevant, he's been attempting human conversation. Yet a sloth would be more entertaining. Here's our recent email discourse:

Einstein, Mar 10: I'm back from Florida done with all of my training!!! I got a new breeding pair of sloths!!! How have you been???

Me, Mar 10: Florida? I imagine it's ripe for sloth breeding and milking. I mean, sloths love to hang out in the tropics. Very cool! Were you trained on new breeding or milking techniques? Do share. I'm doing well, just a bit slowed down by the rain. It makes tree-climbing trickier, but I'm developing hearty biceps, so that's a good thing. Cheers and happy slothing, Robyn

Einstein, Mar 16: Hello how is your day going???

Me, Mar 16: Some moments have been slow and sloth-like, other times I'm frazzled. How about your day?

Einstein, Mar 17: My day was super busy as usual but enjoyable. Any plans for the day?

Me, Mar 17: I work full-time. Heading out soon for a local Open Mic. Happy St. Pat's Day! Robyn

Einstein, Mar 18: How was open mic night!!!!

Me, Mar 19: It was fun how was your evening!!

And that was the "excitement" of my "dating" life these days.
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     Now, with more apologies than I mustered last year when Martha Stewart attempted to sex-up the place...We can't avoid seeing him. Yet the mere thought of him provokes worldwide nausea, untamed rage, fevered cynicism, and chilling heartache. His skills are limited to: stroking his own ego and perhaps his favorite body part--which we're assured is of sufficient size, and vomiting stupidity and hate. But wait! He CAN sport a new line of A-Z-dos. Perhaps the images will help ease the sight of him. 
      Yes, folks, Donald Trump agreed to host my A-Z Challenge. He said something about sending the bill to Mexico. I said, "No, dude, it's pro bono." To this, Trump said, whilst grabbing his crotch, "Oh I'm a pro. Believe me. All the women on my show, the one that NBC fired me from 'cuz they're stupid f*ckers, said 'What a big bono you have, Mr. Trump'!" 

Tune in next month, as Donald Trump models an alphabet's worth of hairdos. 
For example, he'll show us the Ivana-do for "I."

Note that I wouldn't display these alphabetized Trump-dos if I didn't have faith in the ultimate Trump-lose. He will lose. Keep faith. And in the meantime, let us laugh at his expense. Shall we?

Keep a smile and a stash of good chocolate, my dear sillies.
Take care of yourselves.
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Final note: As I inch closer to 50 reviews on Amazon for Woman on the Verge of Paradise, I beg. If you read and reviewed my book, I love you. A lot. If you read but didn't review it, please do. I'll love you more. If you haven't read but are willing to give it a whirl and then write a review on Amazon, I'll gladly show my love for you by sending a free copy (e-book or signed paperback). Please email me at Rawknrobyn@aol.com. Thank you kindly!

Misadventures and Sloths in Online Dating

Dear Sillies,

Remember Einstein, who breeds and milks sloths? I haven't heard back from him since I suggested that the greatest challenge in milking a sloth involves getting high enough in a tree to securely grasp its "utters." [If you hear about a man falling from a tree while attempting to milk a sloth, you can thank me for that one.] But it's not all discouraging, friends. One cute, witty man sent me these True Facts about the Sloth. I rarely post videos here, yet this one's short (2:19) and TRULY worthy. Unfortunately, I'm out of the sender's age range, but we benefit from this entertaining video.

Have a great week.
Keep a smile, and be glad that you are not a sloth.

Sloths and Misadventures in On-line Dating

It was a wonderful break. I hadn't done on-line dating for several years. After five years in Chico, though, I believe I've met and either dated or ruled-out every eligible bachelor in town. All two of them. So I caved, despite fierce attempts to talk myself out of it. Loneliness wreaks havoc. While I've come to believe that loneliness is simply an aspect of being human, and while I KNOW I'm better off alone than in a toxic relationship (and every romantic relationship I've been in has had its share of toxicity), I need the writing material. Or so I told myself. Thus for your sake, I set up a profile last week on a popular dating site. Oy gevalt! What have I done?  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In attempt to weed out those whose conversational skills would abruptly cure the most stubborn cases of insomnia, I included this statement: "I laugh and smile readily, unless I'm utterly bored because, for example, the date I'm sitting with at a coffee shop describes in excruciating detail a day in the life of a South American sloth in mid-winter. Not that there's anything wrong with being a South American sloth in mid-winter; I'm simply not interested in hearing  about it."    

 

I thought Einstein had died long ago. It seems I was wrong. He's alive and well and responding to dating ads. In fact, he sent me this:
"I am reaching out to you because my sloth breeding business is going really well. I need help with the sloths!! Have you ever milked a sloth it can be dangerous."

After a moment in WTF?-land, I eagerly offered advice: "From my experience, the hardest part about milking a sloth is getting high enough on the tree to grasp their utters.* After that, it flows smoothly. I'm glad your business is booming, though the world doesn't need more sloths."

*After I sent it, I realized I misspelled "udders." Clearly, I'd been focused on the dude's utter weirdness. Plus, I routinely find many typos after-the-fact. Regardless, I'm quite certain the misspell did not add to Einstein's confused state. In fact, he didn't respond. Drats, the fun had just begun.
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Have a great week, and take care of yourselves, dear sillies.
Beware of lactating sloths in South America in mid-winter.
Keep a smile.