…And a little hip-hop in the bedroom

Guy number two from my initial disastrous Craigslist post was even worse than my first (“I do not think you are as tall as you think you are“). Besides the previously mentioned issues with honesty, he had the unfortunate experience of being a complete jerk.
He sends me his email – “Hey, I’m 5’11”, well employed, super awesome and funny guy. You sound really cool and I know I’m the guy for you, so you should definitely get back to me.”

So he already knows that we’re going to make it? Awesome. I love not having to put any thought or effort into silly little things like dating. Alright, I’m ready to meet my ready-made man. I don’t want to intimidate his under 6′ tallness, so, again, I wear my 3″ heels, rather than going for a more fierce, and dare I say, more awesome, 4″ or 5″ heel, so I am a measly 5’8″. Except, here’s the thing. When I slide off of the bar stool as he arrives, I am looking down at him. Like, full head tilt, chin into chest, looking down on his no-way-in-hell 5’11” self. We do the hand shake, and I guess my disappointment and weariness show in my face, because I get nothing – no smile, no “how are you?” – nothing. We go to order drinks, and here’s where he shows his ass. I order my sangria (I can pretend that it’s healthy because it has fruit) and he’s looking at the menu. I ask if he knows what he wants. He stomps his (tiny) feet up to the counter, snarks, “I guess I do,” and orders a Fat Tire. The barista gives us our total, and I reach into my purse, fully capable of paying for myself. He says, “Uh no, obviously I’ve got it,” said with what might be described as a grimace, or maybe a scowl. Okay, thanks. We get our drinks and go sit outside.

Now, yes, I wanted to leave right then and there, but he had just paid for my sangria, so I felt that I could at least finish that before I walked off. We sit down and talking with him was like pulling teeth. “So, where do you work?” “At my job.” “Okay. Do you like your job?” “Yeah.” So I think, maybe I should try talking about me. I start in on something trivial, and he literally starts dancing in his chair. Nice. “You obviously like music. What kind of music do you listen to?” “Oh, really anything. Rock, jazz… And a little hip-hop in the bedroom.” That last was said with a lifted eyebrow, a knowing smirk, and I completely lose my cool.

“Do me a favor, will you? Don’t ever look at me and say the word “bedroom” again, okay? Because you will never see me in a bedroom, or any kind, ever. In fact, if I saw you in Bed, Bath and Beyond, I would leave, just so I would not have to look at you with beds anywhere around us.” I finished my drink, stood up, and promptly walked away.

And here is the moral of this story – don’t assume that your date likes listening to music in the bedroom. Maybe they just want peace and quiet!

– Finch

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I do not think you are as tall as you think you are

Last May, shortly before my divorce was final, but well after my ex and I had separated, I felt (naively) that I was ready to test the dating waters. Back before my marriage, Craigslist was a perfectly acceptable place to meet guys, have a few drinks, a few laughs, and then have some much needed physical release. Not all (not even many) of my encounters were casual; they went on to something slightly more than sleeping with each other and slightly less than relationship. But they were great for what I needed, because they all followed that fundamental law – what you say about yourself on the internet can be proven true or false when you meet in person.

I post onto CL, under Women for Men. “Hey, I’m looking for someone cool and laid back, someone who likes movies, wants to grab some breakfast tacos and then chill at Zilker Park, and then can partake in awesome make-out sessions.” I included my picture, because, again, honesty is the best policy. I also stipulated that I wanted someone between the ages of 25-32, 6′ tall (I like height!), and employed (I have my reasons). Many, many responses came in, many who did not fit the three basic requirements, but some which were keepers. I picked two (the other one is recounted in “…And a little hip-hop in the bedroom“). We make plans to meet – one on Friday, one on Saturday, both at Austin Java.

This one had said that he was 6′ tall, 28, had a great job, lived on his own, and was totally ready to meet someone. Okay, I’m set – let’s do this. Now, a quick note – I am about 5’5″, and I have a love of heels. I wore 3″ shoes on this date, which would make me 5’8”, or four inches shorter than this guy in his bare feet. So can anyone tell me why when he showed up, I was looking himĀ  straight in the eyes? I’m going to noticeĀ  a difference of four inches, dude! (That’s what she said!! Come one, it was too easy!)

Okay, height isn’t everything. I can go with it. So we sit down, and start talking. That whole being employed thing? Nope, he got fired the month before. And his living alone? That’s only because he can’t find any roommates, and he’s about to be evicted for not paying rent. His readiness to meet someone? He spent an hour talking about his ex-girlfriend. I didn’t dare ask if he had also lied about his age, but since everything else was flexible in his mind, I wouldn’t have doubted it. Yes, I stayed far longer than I should have. It was my first date after four years of marriage – I was a little out of my element.

But can I just say, since we are very much living in an online dating world, just be honest! If you are really 300 pounds, but you claim 150, I’m going to be able to tell the difference. If you send me a picture where you look 26, and then you show up, and it is obvious that that picture was taken around the time of my junior prom, we’re going to have issues. You want to fudge about a few things here and there to get your foot in the door, I get it! But if everything you have said in your initial email was a pack of lies, guess what? No nookie for you!

– Finch