By DatingALemon

A girl on OKCupid messaged me. Well, first she winked at me; she then sent a message saying “you and I can get into a lot of trouble together.” She was 25 and a pre-school teacher. I’ve always had a thing for teachers, so this looked promising, the only problem was that she only had head shots and she was just average.

As I’m reading her profile she IMs me and I respond. We chat and she seems kinda cool. She tells me she didn’t have full body pics on the computer she used to create the profile, so she sends one from her phone. Again, just average. I figure maybe it’s time for an average teacher. We set up to meet at a dive karaoke bar on a Sunday night.

As I’m getting ready for the date, she texts me and says “I have something to tell you… I’m not a teacher, I’m a stripper… I understand if you want to cancel.” WHAT?!?! Now I’ve dated a stripper before, it was fun, but a disaster in the end… mainly cause she just wanted money. I figure I could at least meet this girl. I text back “it’s ok, still would like to meet you.”

We meet at the bar and talk. She was nice and sweet. A little trashier than her pics, but wasn’t bad. I was there for a little over an hour and we decided to have dinner the next day. I made plans to pick her up after work and go to a bar/restaurant.
I drove to her house and she texted me to call her when I’m there and she’ll show me her place. Cool… I get to enter the bat cave. I get to her place and she brings me in…….WOW!

When I was in college the pool for our apartment was condemned by the health department, our place was a dump and our landlord was a slum lord. We once said “we have rats..” he responded with “ok, go buy some mouse traps!” We didn’t care, we were 20 years old and drunk most of the time. Apparently, I time warped back to college when stepping into her place… it was a bizaro hot tub time machine.
None of her furniture matched, there was a janky tube TV in the corner, cigarette butts all over, a couple bottles of soda filled with cigarette butts, and stains over the carpet… I nearly gagged! On top of that, she looked horrible.

I was tipsy, when I first met her… and the lighting in a dark bar may have been forgiving. But for being 25, this girl was beat! Let’s not even talk about the leopard print bra that was jutting out of her top… I almost wanted to leave… I should have left! She almost wasn’t the same girl I met the night before.

The whole time I’m thinking, how is this girl a stripper? She must not get many customers. Well, in LA there are full nude clubs and bikini clubs. The bikini clubs can serve alcohol, and except for one particular club in West LA, most of the girls at the bikini clubs are nasty. Turns out, not only did this girl work for a bikini bar, but it was a bikini bar on the outskirts of town…. This all made sense! This is the equivalent of working on a practice squad for an arena football team.

We drive to the bar and I try to hold a normal conversation… this girl is dumb!! I’m knee deep and I’m STARVING… I’ll ride this out. We get to the place and head to the bar, now this bar happens to have a stripper pole… it was like a magnet. She asks “do you wanna see my moves?” I said “you know, let’s get some drinks first, then we can have a dance off!” She says “no look!” She straddles the pole, spins around, lifts one leg in the air and slides all the way to the ground… a total pro… the only problem is, there are about 20 other people there… all of them gasping! OK – MOVING ON!
We get to the bar and I order a drink – VODKA ON THE ROCKS – make it a double! She orders a Malibu with pineapple and grenadine and asks the bartender, “does this drink have a name?” He says ya “Malibu, pineapple, grenadine.” She says “I wanna name it, I’m gonna name it….. PUSSY! That’s it, this new drink is called PUSSY!” OMG!

Mind you, this wasn’t a loud bar, it was relatively quiet and we were the only ones sitting at the bar… and she was loud, even the waitress looked over in disbelief. GET ME OUT OF HERE! We had already ordered food, so I was committed for another 20 mins or so….I had to think of something!

I excused myself to the restroom and texted my best friend: “SAVE ME, CALL ME IN 10 MINS!” He responds with “OK.” My most brilliant move thus far, I change his name to WORK BOSS in my contacts and head back to the bar. I place the phone in-between us and start idle conversation. Longest 10 mins of my life…. Finally the phone rings… it says WORK BOSS (except his Facebook image still showed up next to the contact DOH!), she sees the phone and I say “I gotta take this, he never calls this late unless it’s an emergency!” I move to the corner, talk to my friend for a few mins, come back to the table and say “I HAVE to GO ASAP, my boss is in Japan and needs a presentation done in a couple hours cause it’s almost 9am there and he has to be ready for a meeting!” She totally buys it… and even says “it’s such a turn on that you’re so into your work and you’re so important.” GIVE ME A BREAK!!!

We close out, run to the car, drive fast to her place… hug her goodnight and BAM I’m done… 20 mins later I was at a bar having a drink with a friend and telling the story to a couple that just met on MATCH.com – that girl was cute, maybe I should sign up for match.
She’s texted me a few times since and I haven’t responded, luckily I haven’t heard from her in a few days – THANK GOD!!!
I seriously think I may shut down my OKCupid and Plenty Of Fish accounts, except for the masseuse (will post later, PROMISE)… nothing good has ever come out of them.

Moral of the story: I don’t know… but have an escape plan!

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The shock and awe of a last minute date with Bambi! Laughing really is the best remedy.
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A pre Happy Thanksgiving to all, be safe and remember in the words of Meister Eckhart, If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, “thank you,” that would suffice. Cheers!

By Kimberly Wharton

So I’m on this online dating site where the only pre-requisite for ‘matching’ is based on whether or not you have a car. This guy popped in, who was somewhat attractive, although it was hard to tell since his only profile picture was blurry. He was an electrical engineer, which I respect, so thought I’d give him my attention. The conversation was a bit jagged, but I do tend to be more attracted to overly smart men with poor people skills, so this was perfect!

After short awkward banter, he asked me out for a date. His innuendo seemed genuine, although somewhat robotic, so I agreed.

We had planned to meet at a popular Los Angeles outdoor mall, but would meet first in the two hour lot across the street. He said I should park there because nobody ever checks cars and you can park there all evening! Robotic and cheap…this could be great!

He called me earlier that day to confirm we were still on. We had never actually talked on the phone before. He had lived extensively in India, Germany, and now West Hollywood, so his accent was tough to understand. I kept on mishearing him and responding in a way I thought appropriate, though completely incorrect.

I rushed home from the Westside as fast as one can on the 405 on a Friday evening. As quickly as I could, morphed from gym to ‘first date appropriate’ and raced out the door, to drive the 45 minutes to meet him.

I’m running a few minutes late, so I call the number he’d used to call me earlier that day. I get a machine saying this number cannot take incoming calls. What!?!

I get to our meeting point. I walk around the lot looking for a blurry Indian. After about 45 minutes, I proceed to said ‘outdoor mall’. I’m there for a while. My phone rings. Our phone conversation went something like this: Him, “WHERE ARE YOU!” Me, “In the center of ‘said mall’. Where are you?” Him, “WHY DON’T YOU ANSWER YOUR PHONE! I CALLED YOU 3 TIMES!” Me, “No, my phone has been in my hand and it’s never rang. I tried to call you, but it wouldn’t take outside calls.” Him, “THAT WAS WORK. I’M HOME ALREADY. TELL YOU WHAT, COME PICK ME UP.” I wish there were words for my facial response, but I don’t think there are.

Apparently, he didn’t own a car or it was being “repaired” was his story. After I stood my ground and said, no, if you’d like to meet, walk here (he lived two blocks away), he did.

My gut response was to run to my car and leave. But I should let you know that my first impression of people is usually completely wrong…so this could be the love of my life!

When he finally arrives, he barely acknowledges me, pulls my shoulder and begins to walk. He says, “Let’s catch a cab and go to a nightclub.” I say no, I’d rather stay here. He argues, but we end up staying. We go to a restaurant and order tea. He doesn’t even look at me the entire time. I try to make small talk. Turns out we used to live on the same street in College. He doesn’t seem to care. I ask him if he liked our college town. He says, “Too many gays.” I say, “I see…so you chose to move to West Hollywood …AND get highlights?” He doesn’t respond.

After an awkward silence, and what seemed to me like a lean in for a kiss, yeah, he then says, “I’m angry for two reasons.” I smile. “First, I was already home and in bed after waiting for you. And I was also evicted today.” I say I’m sorry for the eviction, but if he would rather go home and go back to bed, that’s fine too. He blames the eviction on his roommate. I asked him what his roommate was going to do. His response went something like this, “Well, you know, he’s black.” “What does that mean?!” I say. His response, “Well, you know.” This man was both angry…and racist!

I quickly said,” I should go”. After all, I was getting concerned over my car. He assured me it was fine. I said, “But you don’t have a car.”

After he thanked me for meeting him, I did something I’ve never done before. I stood in front of him, took both his hands in mine, looked him in the eyes and said, “Life can be better”, and left.

…the search continues.

Surrender Dorothy: A Message for Ladies on the Hunt

By Dani Katz

It really shouldn’t be this hard, you think as you scour yet another suspiciously accomplished, allegedly available guy’s personal profile, wondering if “the One” your every fairy tale promised would really brave a comb-over paired with Mala beads and admit to liking the whiny, pop mediocrity that is Coldplay.

You’re right: it’s not supposed to be anywhere near this hard, and the reason it is so hard is because you’re forcing an issue that simply cannot be forced.

For starters, you are a woman. Sure, you may very well be a forthright and empowered goddess, but, the fact remains, you’re still a woman. As woman, your responsibility in the mating game is to allow, receive and respond. And no, this is not an old-fashioned, put Baby in a corner sort of sexist generalization. This is biological imperative; this is Universal Law.

Gender is a basic law of this third dimensional reality. It’s like gravity, which you may resent, resist and even attempt to fight with underwire and collagen, while the truth of the matter is, you’ll never win because gravity is. It’s the same with gender: there is masculine energy and there is feminine energy – neither is better or more important than the other, they simply are; and, they are different.

While the feminine receives and allows, the masculine is meant to direct its energy towards the object it desires; taking action in single-minded, focused pursuit of thing X – be it buffalo, Himalayan peak or woman. If you get confused, just use your genitals as a handy-dandy reference – the penis points towards what it wants, directs itself inside and, once there, thrusts ever deeper into the soft, wet, warm vessel that receives it, that allows itself to be penetrated in the space it lovingly holds.

Hunting, or in this case – scrolling – is the man’s job. Men freeze when they become the object of woman’s pursuit. They have not the slightest clue how to respond – because they’re not responders by nature – they’re directors. When we beat them to their own biological imperative, the last thing they want to do is engage because we’ve emasculated them. They’ve no idea what to do with their penises when we’re so quick to whip out our (bigger, better, stronger) own, and smack ‘em around with ‘em.

As a woman, your job is to respond to what the Universe puts in your path, and if that’s a whole lot of empty space, then get creative and make the most of it. Log off and learn to love yourself single. If there’s no man in your field to wine and dine you, then surrender to what is – your solitude – and stop whining about what isn’t (Prince Charming). There are no mistakes and everything is perfect, so if you’re alone, that’s exactly where you’re meant to be. Cozy up to it, and make it delightful. Your life is right here, right now – there’s nothing and no one to wait for to start living the hell out of it.

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(via mixadate.com)