Aretha sang about it. She spelled it out. Literally. And it seems to be dying in today’s social networked-I can’t live without my phone/tablet/laptop-online world.
I hit a wall the other night. The big depression wall. It hit like a bat out of hell and knocked me over in a stupor. Yeah, that wall is one mobile SOB. This time it even knocked out my sense of humor, which is difficult to do. I hate that wall. Just hate it.
I have other issues going on in my life as well as the online (more like lack of) dating. Every so often they come together and form said wall. Most of the time it swings and misses. I’m a good ducker. This time I didn’t duck quick enough. I found myself curled up on the sofa with a bag of Taco Bell. I haven’t eaten fast food in months. Yet here I was curled up, taco in hand, staring at the TV not really seeing (caring) what was on it. At least I didn’t go whole hog and get a soda too.
I am tired of the lack of respect from the online dating world. Not only am I not getting the proper respect. Neither are the spouses and significant others of the ass holes that are looking for ‘discreet relationships’ on the side (Seriously. Grow up. Deal with your relationship or leave it). From Craigslist to online dating sites (paid or free), here is what I often hear from men either 5 minutes into a ‘phone conversation or via e-mail.
How much do your weigh?
This is NOT your business. Not only is it not your business, but most of you have no clue what height/weight proportionate is. Meet me IN PERSON and decide for yourself if my build suits you are not. Although by asking that, I have no desire what so ever to EVER meet you.
When was the last time you has sex?
This is also NOT your business. And where the hell do you get off even thinking it’s okay to ask me that!
When was your last real kiss?
Please. Not your business either. Grow up.
What are your sexual fantasies?
Wow. Did your mother drop you on your head often as a child? I’m not telling you that after talking to you for 5 minutes. And now, I’m not telling you that ever.
Do you like threesomes?
Yes, I do. Lindt, Nestles, and Cadbury. Oh wait. You weren’t talking about chocolate were you?
What kind of underwear are you wearing?
The kind you are NEVER going to see on me. Never. Ever. Not even when I’m dead.
NONE of the above is your business. NONE. Do you creepy, low self-esteem, mannerless, poor excuses for human beings understand that? You do not ask a woman (or anyone else who isn’t a hooker) those kinds of questions right off the bat. Sometimes ever.
I find this lack of respect appalling. My married friend’s jaw dropped when I told him some of the questions I get asked. He was horrified that people would ask those kind of questions at all, let alone in 5 -10 minutes of a conversation. He even stuttered and sputtered. And he is neither a stutterer or a sputterer.
Now, I have no idea what you guys go through in looking for a date. I hope it’s not as bad as this. I know I am not the only one who has these issues to deal with. I have written about some of my friend’s experiences, and they are not much better. No wonder single people have such a tough time meeting that special someone. There is all this sludge to dredge through. Yuck. Anybody have a spare HazMat suit?
So I ate my Taco Bell. I watched some TV. I curled up in bed with my trusty four-legged companion stretched out near my feet. I slept and let dreams swirl around me. When I awoke this morning, the wall of depression was gone. I felt ready to take on the world of online dating again. And the rest of the world.
R-E-S-P-E-C-T. Look it up. Know what it means. Use it every day, with everyone you know. Even with those you don’t.