To call tonight’s experience a Date From Hell is to insult the actual Dates from Hell I’ve been on.
I looked nice. I didn’t put on makeup until just before I left the house so that it would still look fresh and not blotchy. I had on my magic Date Bra.™ I got a pedicure today. I smelled good.
This guy-thing-creature-person was smelly. Smelly. And unkempt. A front tooth appeared to be chipped. Slightly cleaner than a homeless person. I’d bet he could win a homeless guy beauty contest if he entered. And that’s as far as I can go.
And also? I’m a catch. Okay, fat. But if you like ’em large, I have everything you could possibly desire in womanly womanness. I’m smart. Accomplished. Stable. Own my own home. Funny. A good mom. And did I mention the smelling good? And I think I should be able to go out with guys who can meet me on more or less equal footing. I think there should be parity of catchfulness. I think creepy unemployed smelly guys who collect SSI because of mental disability and BLOW THEIR NOSES IN THEIR SHIRTS should not ask women like me out. Should. Not. Ask. Date within your own species, mofo.
EWW
let me tell you about my freind Raina, she is 28, smart and beautiful. she told me about a recent first date who asked if she was easy to get “off” the reason being that he didn’t like to work that hard. Needless to say, no second date
Ewwww poor Raina. That’s a really bad one.
I don’t know. I’m mad at myself for going out with him. I really had no idea that he was horrible. But there were tiny little signs that there was something a bit off. I hardly ever go out with anyone because as soon as I see a tiny sign, I put on the brakes. But then time passes, I haven’t been out in ages, and gosh, those signs sure are tiny, so I go. And a night like tonight will prevent me from ignoring tiny signs for MONTHS.
Also, I’m mad at myself for being so nice to him and not saying “how dare you misrepresent yourself to me?”
sometimes it is just not worth it. but I would certainly say it if he contacted you again
I just question whether I was being nice because it is a virtue to be nice, or whether I was being a fucking wimp.
Wimp. 🙂
From my perspective, “informing them” requires too much emotional investment, even for a few moments (they already know).
Though calculatingly not absolute about it, I go by what’s predictably effective more than social norms, so unless they’re of some consequence in or strongly associated with areas of my top priorities, I dismiss people like that without hesitation or a qualm.
That’s considered unusual (especially for a woman) but I feel it is considerate of oneself and others (a.k.a. “rude”) — life is too short and fragile for (self-preservation kicking in) stinkers wearing shirts self-adorned with snot.