Dating Bender

Someone asked my why I’m on dating sites. The answer is that I know people here in Portland, but they all have kids/are busy/are couples/are cooler than me. Also, I’m broke. Often times on dates guys will buy me food. Yeah. I’m a dick. Glad we got that out of the way.

As usual, internet dating is a time suck. Sometimes it is depressing, sometimes it is exciting, sometimes it is just horribly sad. Nonetheless, I have weaseled out some seemingly vaguely normal, moderately attractive men to go on dates with. Actually, a lot of dates. A LOT of first (and final) dates. Some of them are boring, some of them are horrible, all are….odd.

So. First one? You know how in movies blind dates wear a red rose or something so you can tell which person you are meeting? Well, I did that. But instead, I wore a beard. Like a serious beard.

Date-beard

It was itchy. And oddly warming. Seriously. It was a bit chilly, so I just wrapped the ends around my neck, like a scarf. I heart beard. So did my date. Sadly, I did not ‘heart’ date back. He was sweet….which is never a good thing for a girl to say about a dude unless it is immediately followed by hot, or sexy, interesting or….rich? (see? I’m an asshole).

So, on to the next one. This guy was hot. And showed up to the date stoned. And smoked. And wouldn’t (couldn’t?) make eye contact. Right.

Next.

A date to Home Depot. For any other girl, this would be lame and horrible. For me? Actually kinda cool. We had a post-Depot meal where we talked about books and were having a blast when he told me he is moving to Norway in two days to be with a girl. Right again.

Next.

This guy asks me out for an afternoon drink. He texts to say he is running late. Three hours later he is going to be even later (don’t worry, I wasn’t waiting at the bar or anything, I was going about my business.) I finally tell him, no thanks, I’m gonna bail. His response (and this is a direct quote): “Well…disappointing. I can’t help the delays, I’m a very busy man.” But here is the thing; he is in the industry of the business I’m trying to put together. So I selfishly really wanted to pick his brain. We finally meet up for a drink. I pick his brain as much as I possible can whilst sitting through the most arrogant statements I’ve heard in a while. Among them there were some gems like:

“I am a really skilled lover”

“I see a very bright future for the two of us”

“I would make make you a really good boyfriend. Although in truth, I’ve never had a relationship for longer than 2 months”

“If you’re lucky, I’ll take you camping. Then we can have sex in a tent. Unless you are on your rag, then you have to sleep in your own tent in case there are bears.”

Yeah.

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11 thoughts on “Dating Bender

    • Thanks, babe! Writing a book is not for the faint of heart. Although neither is internet dating….

  1. I don’t think bears are attracted to blood. Bears don’t go into a feeding frenzy if you throw chum at them. Maybe they would come around if hot dog buns and Diet Fanta came out of your vagina, but even then I don’t see how you being in a separate tent would affect the outcome.

    • Why’d you say DIET Fanta? You saying my vagina needs to go on a diet?!?!
      Well. Maybe you’re right, maybe watching what it ingests is a good way to slim down. But did you have to say it HERE?? Do you know how many dozens if people read this blog?!? Two. Two dozen people read this. And my grandma somehow signed up for it 9 times.

  2. Oh girl. I’m working on enough material to write a novel. I’ve had the man who was three months separated from his wife who still lived with him. He wanted to bang and he dressed like my dad. Then there was the other guy who dressed like my dad, complete with tassled loafers. Then there was the guy who stuck his tongue down my throat within two minutes of meeting me and then sent me sexually inappropriate text messages for the next two days. For the love.

  3. Thanks Apatow/Farrelly/McKay/Etc for perpetuating the hopeless stoner man-child stereotype that keeps getting foisted on Lauren. Or maybe those were documentaries. Not sure anymore.

    • yeah, I’m pretty sure those are all documentaries of my life. I’m the slightly attractive girl with her shit together that falls in in love with the goofy shild in man’s clothing. Every fucking time.

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