Sep 11

I thought nine was my lucky number…

Dating Bachelor #8 was a non-event. Nice, but no spark. He felt the same. I also wasn’t going to talk about #9. Not because it was so uneventful, but more like, the idea of writing about him in a sarcastic or humorous manner would feel like writing about how I had a bunch of fun clubbing baby seals. But, as luck would have it, he sent me an email today that takes that feeling right off the table.

#9 is a great example of why you should trust your instincts when it comes to dating. I had moved on to a new dating site, one that uses instant messaging. I hate instant messaging anyway, but particularly hate it when on an online dating site. They know you’re online — it’s impossible to avoid them, and there’s a blinking box taking over your computer! Anyway, this guy instant messaged me and after looking at his profile I knew he wasn’t right for me. For one, he’s very serious about Christianity. I told him that I wasn’t Christian, and he said he didn’t care. Really? Then why say you’re serious about it? Anyway, I was boxed in by IM and agreed to the date. However, it needed to wait a week and a half because I had other plans made.

Over the next week, nearly every day he sent me an email. An email telling me about his day, about himself, and telling me how excited he was for the date, although he always spelled my name wrong. He even told all of his friends he had a date with me. He tried to friend me on Facebook. The date loomed further and the rock in my stomach got larger. The afternoon before the date, I emailed my friend all his details (which I would do anyways – I always text details and then text when I get home for safety). This time, I emailed her way more details because his page-long emails were making me nervous.

I think you can tell he wasn’t a serial killer by the fact that I’m sitting here writing this. He was not a bad person, nor the worst date I’ve had by far. He was just… very sheltered and awkward. Nearly 40, had just recently moved out from his parents’ house. Loved church, had very few friends outside church/family/mom and dad. Basically, when the conversation I had with the couple at the next table was the most lively interesting conversation, it’s bad. He also didn’t want to order any food or drink at the restaurant, but ended up eating almost the same thing I did, and did not tip the waiter. Actually, I was very proud of our waiter because he made a fuss about not getting tipped and it forced #9 to tip him or risk humiliation. I almost clapped.  I begged off from exhaustion (which was true – I was tired from work) and went home. He emailed me the next day and I gave him the email that basically said, “We’re not right for each other. Good luck!” And then I felt that my love life was in shambles and I’ll never meet anyone.

Then today, he sent me an email that was out of the Nice Guy handbook for how to both beg and berate someone who doesn’t want to date you. It also hits a lot of points in the Bingo of Male Entitlement. (Sentences edited for spelling and grammar.)

  • I deserve to the right [to know] where I stand and what is turning [women] away when they see me in person?
  • I joined [dating site] to find a girlfriend and to start a relationship with someone, not to be rejected after the first date you know.
  • Maybe I dont have a big house or a sports car or go on expensive vacation but I love myself and want you to accept me and please give me a chance.

That’s not the half of it. It’s goes on for three of the longest paragraphs, and includes how he’s suffered with a learning disability, but he’s just so nice anyway. And you see? As a Nice Guy, he deserves the right to date whomever he wants, regardless of what she might want. He demands to know know why women won’t date him.  It must be because these women just want men richer than him, or with fancy sports cars! See what happens with these men? They go from “you’re so nice, not like those other bitches” to being a bitch yourself by the ending salvo of an overly long email tirade. Yet another lesson to me to trust myself about these guys.

And so he makes it onto the Blogging Tag of Shame.

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