Creepers Part 2

 Have you ever seen a married man on a singles site? I have. Check out my ex's friend, "Bob" ...

As much as I'd like to publish his complete name and photograph, unfortunately, I will not. Bob is what I will call an Undercover Creeper. If you recall my post about Creepers, then you will easily understand the concept of the Undercover Creeper. At least a creeper is up front about his married status in some manner, whether it be with still wearing his wedding ring or just telling you he's married and looking for some fun. Bob, however, is another story. Bob portrays himself as a single man with no kids, looking for "like-minded" people, aka, let's f* and talk later.

When I saw that Bob was scoping out my profile, I figured it was to spy on me to see what I was up to these days. Of course, I decided to snoop his profile and see what the dirtbag was up to.

I've spotted Bob around town on a few occasions since my ex and I had broken up. Usually, he was with a group of people that included women who were not his wife. On the latest sighting, around the time that I spotted him on POF, he was with a woman, not his wife, and was actually making out with her. I was disgusted. As much as I wanted to go up to him and ask Bob how his wife and kids were, I declined. It is not my place to call out this particular married dirtbag.

Creepers abound more frequently than I'd like to think. Another creeper situation arose with a close friend of mine. She had become friends with a married male that she worked with. It was odd because for the first three years of their seven-year friendship, she had no idea that he was married and had two kids. She had transferred job locations into a nearby town about an hour away, and her married friend happened to be in her new town for training. He stopped by her office. They chatted and dished about office gossip as they normally do, as well as vented and touted each other's own office victories. Oddly, for being such good friends, they never got involved in each other's personal lives beyond the office environment. He had always promised to take her shooting, but at the last minute he would always cancel.

One day, he came forward with something that chilled her. He revealed that he'd had feelings for her for the past five years. "It's the reason we never go shooting. I'm worried that if I'm at the range with you, and we're alone, I'm going to end up kissing you." She asked him when it started, and he told her it started after they were put on the same projects together. She didn't know what to do, other than to say she was flattered and she was glad he never crossed any lines.

He started to give her hypotheticals. What would she do if he did kiss her? Would she resist? Would she accept? She refused to answer initially. Finally, after several minutes of being barraged by hypotheticals, she admitted that she might kiss him back, but there would never be anything between them.

At that time, it was the end of the work day and she was going to her car. She offered to drive him to his car, as his car was parked several blocks away. He accepted. Before he got out of her car, he tried to kiss her. She turned her face and he got her cheek. They've never gone shooting.

Another friend of mine actually did kiss a married man. She had dated this particular man for a short while before he started dating his current wife. There was always attraction between them. Both of them were lawyers. As I've said before, lawyers love sex and they love alcohol. Combine alcohol with two attractive lawyers, and you may get sex. In my friend's case, she had enough sense to the stop the sex train.

They had been out drinking at one of the local bar association's socials. It was getting later. A group from the social that included the two of them decided to move to another bar. After that shindig ceased, the two of them continued to stay together at the bar while the others left. He had put his hand on her leg and ran it up and down her thigh. She admitted to me that she enjoyed it, but did feel guilt. He offered to walk her to her car. Once they got to her car, he increased the voltage and moved from her thigh to her butt, and from her butt to ground zero. She admitted to me that she put up no resistance. She actually went with it. He then pulled her tightly into his body and started kissing her, feeling her, initiating what nearly became a sexual encounter in the parking lot. She finally stopped it. She told me that she apologized to him and drove home. The next day, she texted an apology to him and said she was out of line. He responded with an apology to her, admitting that he was the one out of line, and he thanked her for not following through. He tried kissing her again fairly recently. She did the 'ol turning her head to get the cheek trick again. When he did get her cheek, he smiled at her.

All of this makes me think one thing - are people really faithful these days? Clearly, there's a high percentage of people who are not. According to an article by the Washington Post, a 1991 study revealed that 70% of married women and 72% of married men have cheated on their partners.

Part of the reason for my singlehood has now become being single by choice. I'm sure that when I meet the right guy, my views will change. I don't want to get into a relationship or commit my life to someone only to get my heart broken again. I need to meet someone who doesn't want to get into a relationship or commit his life to someone to get his heart broken either.

I've always been confident that I could be happy if I met someone like me. If my match is out there, and he has the same concerns and goals that I do, then we'll be just fine.

Dead Fish S&M Bumpkin

This past Friday, I had the unfortunate displeasure of having a POF date. In full disclosure, I brought it upon myself. I saw this guy online and thought he looked like a normal man. Here's a quick snapshot of his profile: 

There was one photo where I could kind of see his face. He looked kind of cute, and in person, he actually was kind of cute. But let me tell you something - this date was a disaster. This man off Plenty of Fish was a dead fish. A masters degree, a machinist (again, in full disclosure, I had no idea what that meant - maybe an engineer?), and tall!

We exchanged messages on POF, phone numbers, text messages, and had a real conversation on the phone. The phone conversation left me feeling as though we had somewhat decent chemistry. It was a little awkward, but I thought, "Eh, he might be okay." He asked me out for drinks at a local restaurant that specializes in Southern cuisine.

After 5 o'clock rang at work, I went to the bar. I spruced my makeup up, I was wearing a nice outfit, and I was ready to break the spell of bad dates. He texted me, saying he had an outside table. Rather than breaking the spell, I was cursed by another hocus pocus.

As I walked up, my eyes perused the outside tables for what I thought was my next big relationship. He was worse than Tinder in Miniature - he was Dead Fish. When he saw me, he got up, walked over to me, and he almost body-bumped me while simultaneously giving me a hug. It was bizarre. He greeted me with a slight southern drawl. I observed his manner of dress for this first date and made my quick judgments. He was dressed as any bumpkin might be dressed - green shorts, a black t-shirt, a black ball cap. dark-rimmed glasses, and black sandals - the kind you spot unfashionable tourists wearing at the beach. I was appalled.

We sat down and began to chat. The waitress had already given us ice water, but no offer of alcohol. I was really looking forward to a good beer, and I was not amused at being robbed of my beer. He hadn't ordered any beer, either, and I didn't want to appear like an alcoholic. But dude, it was Friday and I had a shitty day at work. Come on!

He was slow in his words, quick in his thought, and difficult to carry on a conversation. He was different from the phone. This guy didn't seem cool and dynamic at all. He was a Dead Fish! A Dead Fish is a special term I ascribe to one who is difficult to speak with. Conversation with him was like pulling teeth. However, the conversation perked up, but for a damning turn.

Earlier in the day, I showed a friend from work the Dead Fish's profile. As we reviewed his summary, something popped out to me that I didn't remember from when I first reached out to him. He said he was not "vanilla" in the bedroom. In fact, he cautioned the reader that he was one who thought bites, bumps, and bruises in the bedroom were natural and necessary.

If you remember my post about S&M, people who use the term "vanilla" are those who belong to S&M circles and are referring to conventional sex. Seeing this term in his profile raised alarms in my mind. Had I stumbled across someone who wants to bite my tits off?

"So I need to ask you about something I saw in your profile today that I hadn't seen before."
He smiled. The bastard added the vanilla thing recently. "Sure, go ahead."
"I saw that you use the term vanilla in your profile. Normally, people who use the term vanilla in their profiles subscribe to S&M circles. Are you one of those people?"
"Well, yes and no. I mean, I like biting. If someone is into bondage, I'll get into it, but I don't keep a supply of chains."

I was already getting turned off. The next few things he said and did definitely shut down any electricity I had left. He asked me more about my profession. When I told him I was a lawyer, he chuckled and said, "Oh I've needed one or two in my lifetime!" When I asked him what he meant, he told me that he had been arrested for felony fleeing and eluding law enforcement. He got into a high speed chase with a state trooper when he was 31 years old - a mere two years ago. I asked him why he did it. His response: "I just wanted to see if they'd chase me. I thought it'd be fun. It was harmless - nobody else was around."

I was dumbfounded. This man got arrested for a felony and got into a high speed chase just for kicks? The masters degree seemed like a complete lie because surely someone who engaged in this type of behavior would not have the smarts to also obtain a masters degree. I asked him what happened to the criminal case. He said he got a break on it and ultimately didn't become a convicted felon. In my mind, he was a convicted felon.

The only good part about this disaster date was the food. I was eating a delicious crawfish po' boy with sweet potato fries. It was marvelous, even though I didn't have a beer to wash it down with. At the end of the meal, the waitress delivered the bill, as all waitresses do across America at the end of thousands of meals every day. He took the bill in his hands, furrowed his eyebrows, and looked up at me.

"Do you have any cash on you, like a ten?"
I looked at him, thinking to myself that after the disaster this date had been, he wasn't seriously going to ask me, the female half, for cash.
"No. I don't have cash." I wasn't going to offer to pay any portion with my card, either. I'm a traditionalist, and for the wasted hour of my life I spent with this moron on my Friday night, he could at least pay for my meal.
"Hm, okay." He reached into his wallet, plopped down a card, and after a painful ten minutes of waiting, the waitress came and picked up his card with the bill. After an additional five painful minutes, she returned his card.

I thanked him for the dinner and wished him well. I jumped into my car and drove straight home. Lucky for me, I had one of my favorite beers in the fridge. I popped the cap off and indulged in the bubbly flavors of a Sam Adams Cherry Wheat.

I reviewed my awful date with the Dead Fish S&M Bumpkin. I closed my eyes as I took another sip of my beer. The beer was my comfort. To my surprise, I realized that a cold beer was all I really wanted for a Friday night. I then started to recount the collection of terrible dates I'd had, coupled with the tragedy of my last relationship.

I then realized this single truth: It's a blessing to be single when I'm surrounded by fools.

The Bumbling First Bumble Date

If you remember in my last post, I did a review of the dating app, Bumble. 

The caliber of men on Bumble seemed to be higher quality than the mess I was getting on other sites. After a few messages with this guy (pictured below), I decided to go out with him. Except he had two fatal flaws which I have outlined in each photo: 

Yes. He was boring, and he had bad breath. You may be saying to yourself, "Come on, really? Didn't you give the guy a chance?" Let me tell you how this date went.

We agreed to meet at a bar downtown for a drink. He wanted to expand it into dinner immediately, but I learned a long time ago to stick to drinks or coffee only for a first meeting for online guys. It's like pulling something out of the bargain barrel at the store - you could either strike gold, or get something horrific that no one else wants (and therefore, explains the reason why it's 90% off).

When he approached, he resembled his photos, but he was ugly in person. He had a very scrunched up face. It's like the difference between seeing the photo of a sweet poodle and then meeting a pug instead. I told myself not to judge on looks. For me, sometimes personality can save the day.

Unfortunately, he had no personality. Most people would agree that conversation is a two-way exchange. Trying to maintain conversation with him was like trying to maintain conversation with a slice of dry, plain, white toast. It just wasn't happening. Like toast, he just sat there, mildly plugging along.

With the small puffs of words he uttered from his mouth also came a toxic gas - bad breath. Sitting next to each other at the bar, I thought briefly that perhaps my ex sent this man to gas me to death with bad breath. At the first puff of toxic gas, I thought maybe my nose was mistaken in what it was sensing. There was no way that a single man on a first meeting would dare approach without brushing his teeth, or at least chewing a piece of gum, or something to freshen that cave. After the third puff, I couldn't take it anymore. I knew it was either leave or die under his toxic gas breath.

I knew within the first ten minutes that this date was going to suck, and I did not want to lose an hour of my life to this man. A bunch of my friends that I was with earlier were still downtown, and I decided to rejoin them. I subtly texted a plethora of them, begging for one person to please call me and say it was an emergency. One female immediately responded to me.

"Are you okay?" she said. "Do you need rescuing?"
"What's wrong?" I said, knowing that she would understand what I needed.
"Huh?" Okay, she didn't quite get it yet.
"Is it an emergency? Do you really need me to come now?"
"YES! Come now!" she exclaimed.
"Okay, I'm coming!"

Gas Man looked at me, bewildered.

"I'm sorry, but my friend just broke up with her boyfriend. She's in tears. She needs me to come. Do you mind if we reschedule?"
"Yeah, go ahead."

I thanked him, dashed out the door, and dashed into another bar nearby where my group was. I immediately deleted the guy from my Bumble matches. He can gas some other poor soul.

The problem that I see with Bumble is the same problem I get with other sites - men don't behave like men. They don't pursue. After a match, they just sit there like bumps on a log after I initiate contact. I do give Gas Man kudos for actually setting up a date, I just wish he had more personality and better oral hygiene. Part of the problem is also my dating demographic - my town just sucks, period.

I'm still hopeful that there's a prince out there for me, I just need to go through a few frogs, including a poisonous gas toad.