I’m going to go with another failed Internet dating story here. Now, I’ve known lots of people who have had good luck meeting people online. In all fairness, I really only tried it for several weeks. But given my obviously awesome track record in meeting people, I’m not sure why I thought Internet dating would be any different for me. I will continue to attract freaks and losers, and anyone semi-normal I will scare off with my intense sarcasm (aka, defense mechanism) or my sick and twisted humor.
I received a “wink” from a young man who, although wasn’t all that appealing in his pictures, had a very witty profile and I wanted to keep my options open. Plus, I kinda hoped the pictures were misleading and he probably did, in fact, have all of his appendages.
We started emailing and I found out we had a lot of similar interests. And being a full-bred Greek, he was quite excited by the fact that I also was Greek.
I’m half Greek, really, but who’s counting? It’s my lower half that’s mostly Greek, and isn’t that what counts the most? I’m sure he imagined his mother dancing with joy at all of the olive-skinned Greek babies I could spit out.
The first time he called me, I answered the phone after having run up four flights of stairs to my condo. I was a tad winded, as unfortunately binge drinking and dry humping do not count as cardiac activity. I apologized for being out of breath and said, “I guess this is a sign I need to get my fat ass to the gym.”
Now, he does not yet know I am a sarcastic a-hole. He also does not know that most of my humor is self-deprecating. Perhaps it was unfair of me to fully judge him on his response.
Yet I couldn’t help but judge away.
He somewhat gasped and asked, “Well, how much do you weigh?”
Now, there are certain things you do not ask a lady: “How much do you weigh?” and “Can I have a bite of your cheese?” rank as numbers one and two for me.
I nervously giggled and said something about how that was not a question you should ask a lady. (Little did he know that I was fondling my Adam’s apple as I said this.)
So then, thinking he was being sneaky, asked, “Well, how tall are you?”
I responded that I was 5’2”. He then scoffed and busted out this gem: “Well, tell me you don’t weigh more than 120 pounds?”
Really buddy? You want to go there again with the weight question?
When I refused to buy into his whole weight interrogation he tried some other tactics, including grilling me on my favorite foods and activities I like to partake in. I’m not sure “anything fried” and “sitting while eating” were the answers he was looking for. He later tried to transition to suggestions for our date, with his number one suggestion being salsa dancing. I informed him that he probably wasn’t capable of dipping my Greek jiggly ass.
We never actually went out.
DO NOT ask a woman how much she weighs. ESPECIALLY when it’s the FIRST question you ever ask her. Regardless though, first conversation, first date, fiftieth date; I repeat, DO NOT ASK A WOMAN HOW MUCH SHE WEIGHS!
If you have to ask, she probably isn’t a weight you’d like her to be and you might be risking your life.
It’s been 30 minutes and I’m hungry.
Feed me, Seymour, feed me!