Plenty of Shit

Plenty of Fish was never the greatest dating site in the world, although this was mostly due to the user base.  It was free, after all.  For some reason, I received less responses from that site versus Match.  I've previously remarked how the same woman would ignore my note on POF only to initiate contact on Match.  But at least the site worked and allowed you to meet others.  Until now.

Around the holidays, the app decided it no longer recognized me.  Went online and same thing; username and password no workee.  So, I asked the site for a ''reset my password' email.  Days go by, no email; and yes, I checked my spam.  So, I create a new profile.  This one is literally deleted within minutes.  Same for the next one and the one after that.

For the record, I've done nothing to violate the terms and conditions of the site.  Hell, I haven't been on it long enough to piss anyone off!

Plenty of Fish Website - Today

So, I decide to give POF some time to fix whatever glitch they're having.  More accurately, I'm tired of creating accounts only to have them wiped within minutes.  In any case, in a moment of boredom, I tried again tonight.  I even register from another email address, just in case my usual one's been flagged for some reason.

It would be great if I could report the site's been fixed, but my new profile was wiped within half an hour or its creation.   In other words, POF is still the same massive pile of shit it was over the holidays.  I'd report the issue to POF, except there doesn't seem to be a way to contact the site.

As a reminder to my readers, POF is owned by Match.com, as is OKCupid.  Considering how unreliable the latter has become, I'm more than a bit concerned that the other sites will begin to experience serious issues as well.  Being that I'm a paying member on Match, I'm protecting myself by cancelling my membership and removing my payment information.  I would strongly consider my readers do the same, since the online dating house of cards may come crashing down at any point.

Looks like it's back to the bars for meeting people!

I Don't Date Men

More than a few readers have made the comment that I'm hard on women, that they're constantly the targets of my dating entries.  I can absolutely see where one may draw that conclusion.  I've poked fun at women's dating profiles, the loony behavior of ones I've dated, and been particularly hard on certain women.

In reality, I'm equally tough on everyone.  I call it as I see it, with very few exceptions, even raking myself over the coals, when appropriate.  And trust me, I love women.  In fact, I've learned more about how to truly love someone over the past seven years, than in my way too many years prior.  However, by its very nature, my blog will only include my experiences with women.  The reason is very simple.

I don't date men.

Furthermore, as bloggers, we tend to write about experiences that have either hurt us, confounded us, or truly shaped us.  For me, it's a means to gain a better understanding of what transpired or exorcise it altogether.  'I had a nice date with a lovely woman and plan to see her again' doesn't typically require either of those actions.

Back to the topic at hand.

I don't date men.

For that reason, I don't read men's dating profiles, so I don't see the garbage they put on them.  Despite women recounting the crap that men write, no man's profile will ever appear in the DPOW.

Because I don't date men.

It would also follow then, that I have no experiences in dating men.  And I only write about things I'm intimately familiar with.  From what I've read and been told by others, men are just as screwy, when it comes to dating.  Hell, from what I know, I'd consider that to be somewhat of a given.  But I can't say for certain, because...

I don't date men.

So, I apologize if it sometimes seems that I'm brutal, when it comes to the fairer sex.  You'll have to trust that I don't go around seeking opportunities to bash women.  But again, no experience with anything else, because...I think you get it.

Semi-Annual Dating Profile of the Week - December, 2017

Yes, what was once a weekly endeavor declined to monthly frequency, then quarterly, and now semiannual.  The truth is garbage profiles all run together after reading the same crap for the 101st time, they lose impact.  However, once in a while, a profile jumps out as truly dreadful, such as the one below.

As usual, I've copied the entire profile, so readers can completely soak in the lunacy.  While longer than most of my previous examples, this is one that does keep on giving.  It comes from Emptynester, a 44 year old woman from Bucyrus, KS.  She's a bubbly, blond, type, who clearly spends her free time fearing carbs.  Empty not only seeks someone who likely doesn't exist, but takes 'here's what I don't want' to a new level of greatness.

I'm currently living in Columbia, Mo. My daughter is now a junior in college, so I able (and ready) to relocate if I met the right person. 

I've had two long-term relationships with two very great men. I'm three years out of my last relationship, and I'm ready to find another great partner. 

I will openly admit that I don't enjoy this experience too much, so in an attempt to save time/energy, please understand that I am at a point in my life that I would prefer to not deal with the demands of young children. Also, physical fitness is a VERY important part of my life and consumes a great deal of my time; I am also an active yogi and practice daily meditation...these are my passions. It is an ABSOLUTE REQUIREMENT that whomever I date also desires to live aligned w these passions. If you do not, please respect my time. I apologize if that comes across as rude, but I'm here looking for a partner, not friends or compliments. 

ADDENDUM: I have encountered a lot of "John 14:6 Christians" lately. For the record, I am an extremely spiritual person: I believe in a Higher Power, and I believe there are MANY paths that lead to God. I do not discriminate on a person's path unless "that path" forces you to be so ridged that you believe "your way" is "the only way". If you believe Jesus Christ is the one and only Son of God, we most definitely are not a Match: DEAL BREAKER. I'm not here to debate religious beliefs. 🙄


ADDENDUM II: I'm not a fan of facial hair, and it would take a lot for me to get beyond it: too scratchy. 😉

If we share these similar interests/beliefs, I look forward to hear from you; if we don't, I wish you the best in your search!

Initially, I struggled to properly describe all the ways this woman is just plain batty, but quickly realized there's no need.  She does it all by herself.

Be careful out there, my single friends.  

Match's New Feature For Those With No Personality

When it comes to online dating, regular readers know how little regard I have for those with 'phoned in' profiles, that show little to no thought was involved in creating them.  I've already explained myself to death, on the topic, in previous entries, so I'll skip that tirade here.  Why?  Because I've just stumbled on a new low that's got me ready to launch into a whole new one!

I recently traded notes with woman on Match, who had indicated her interest via one of the various passive aggressive means available on the site.  She didn't have much on her profile, but I've been trying to be a bit more forgiving and open minded on the issue.  Still, it was no surprise when her repartee turned out to be on par with that profile.  One sentence responses that added nothing to what couldn't be a conversation on its best day.  Needless to say, once I ascertained she had nothing to say, I quickly blew her off and didn't give her another thought.  Until today, that is, when I came across two other profiles with identical verbiage to hers.  In each case, their entire profiles consisted of nothing but the following:

'I consider myself to be very outgoing. I can strike up a conversation with just about anyone. But it hasn’t always been this way – I was super-shy as a kid. I’m a social butterfly now, but was definitely a social caterpillar back then!'

What the hell???  Is there some sort of 'dating profiles for lazy people' resource out there?

As you can see, Google has found quite a number of dating profiles, all with the same verbiage.  

So, off to this blog I went, ready to launch into the tirade that you know is about to follow.  Except something just changed, literally as I typed.  When I discovered the other identical profiles, I sent an admittedly mildly snarky note to the first woman; sort of a 'I know you copy/pasted from somewhere'.  She replied that Match had a choice of canned profiles from which new users could choose, should they be too uninteresting or lazy to write their own.  She might not have said it that way, but I can't remember.  

Believe it or not, I'm somewhat of two minds with respect to Match's enabling the boring to be even more so.  On one hand, I find that option to be stomach turning.  Seriously, profiles consisting of 'I love to laugh' and 'I love the beach' have never looked so good to me.  Even if they showed no imagination, at least the words actually came from the person whose profile they appeared in.  To use a standard profile just screams 'I have no personality!' that much louder.  However, the marketing professional in me admires the site for being creative in generating revenue.  Let's face it, dating sites are primarily merchandising vehicles, not unlike eBay or cars.com.  They all provide platforms for selling a product (ourselves, the case of dating sites), so attracting and retaining customers is crucial to their business model.  Match has created a means by which even the mostly brain dead can create a profile.  And since a canned profile won't get much interest unless the owner is attractive, the product will remain advertised for a particularly long time, without being purchased, generating additional revenue for the platform.  However, from the perspective of someone who thinks people have lost the ability engage their target dating audience, the canned profile remains something for me to loathe and make fun of.

Happy dating, friends.

Update:  I've been trying to spot these cookie cutter profiles and will post the ones I find below.

People say I’m quiet-natured, but I’m actually just a really good listener. I don’t talk as much, because I like to process and think before I offer my opinion.

People say I’m quiet-natured, but I’m actually just a really good listener. I don’t talk as much, because I like to process and think before I offer my opinion.

The Hits Just Keep Coming

Well, I seem to have stumbled across another potential loon this past week.

We connected per the normal course of events and seemed to have a connection, so we met last Saturday for dinner, and a good time was had by all.  There wasn't much not to like about B; she was smart, well read, funny, hot as hell, great in the sack, and had the most delicious pair of legs I've seen in some time.  The connection appeared to be pretty great, so we began spending a lot of time together (almost every night).  About mid-week, I became cognizant we were rushing headlong into becoming a couple at rapid pace, which is rarely a good thing.  As a result, my already highly sensitive nut case snooper went on full alert.

At that point, it dawned on me that we didn't have a huge amount in common except our mutual admiration.  Our lack of commonality didn't escape me on the front end, but the new open TIB said to let it slide.  After all, I was enjoying the companionship.

Yesterday, the craziness revealed itself in spades.  I'll spare you the minute details, but here are the high points.  This weekend, we were baking Christmas cookies; next weekend, we'd planned to see the Nutcracker.  I'm the furthest thing from a ballet fan, but she really wanted to see it; happy relationships involve trade offs.  In order to be able to enjoy this weekend together, I skipped the company holiday party yesterday; otherwise I'd have had to work this weekend.  I also asked to skip the Friday night sleepover at her house because all the time we'd been spending together had prevented me from working out and keeping up the house.  Plus, I needed to stock up on the basic building blocks for cookies (i.e. sugar, butter, eggs, etc.) and wasn't going anywhere near a Target or Wally World on a Saturday morning two weeks before Christmas.

Her email to me came before I sent my email saying I needed to skip Friday night.  In her's she asked if we could see the ballet this weekend instead of next; her son was coming into town next weekend.  I responded that I'd been looking forward to a quiet weekend and that the stress / events at work (where I was writing from) had made me hypersensitive to others changing my plans for me, but I knew how important seeing the show was to her, so we'd go this weekend.  That I'm sure we'd have a great time.

And out came the crazy.  In her next email, she shared her disappointment over not seeing me last night, having to skip the ballet (because 'no one should ever be forced to see the ballet against their will'), and one other thing having to do with cookie baking that would take longer to explain than the payoff would be worth.  In reality, I hadn't asked her to sacrifice anything but last night's visit.  She didn't attempt to ameliorate her comments by adding 'but I understand' or 'we'll make it work'.  Just outlining the sacrifices she was making because of me.  Initially, her note frustrated me because she was complaining about having to sacrifice two things she in fact, didn't have to.  I thought she either possessed abysmal reading comprehension skills (not likely, as she's a teacher) or something much worse.  She also made a comments to the effect that I was making it sound like all the work was falling on my shoulders and that I needed to put more effort into transitioning from 'single to not single'.

As a reminder, we'd had our first date the previous Saturday, less than a week ago!  In any case, the more I mulled over her email, the more I began to smell something I hadn't experienced in quite awhile.  The slight hint of the relationship being paramount, combined with the heady notes of 'you're not living up to your end of things', finished with the sweetness of facts taking a back seat to getting a point across.  Wait, I remember that smell from when I was married!  It's called MANIPULATION!!!  Seriously, that email, combined with her response to my metaphorically sending a photo of me running away, slamming me for my lack of commitment (to someone I'd been dating for less than a week!), was incredibly similar to how my borderline ex-wife communicated with me. From manipulating facts to make me feel bad about how I wasn't being a good partner to slamming me for not living up to my commitment (at least my wife could point to a commitment I'd made), her communication had it all.  Each little bit of manipulation crafted to further bind the receiver to the one who created it.  You feel as though you're not 'doing your part' in the relationship, so you work harder, which actually means further supplicating to your nutsville partner's ideas of how a relationship should function.

Not knowing her for even a week, it would be flat out dumb for me to insinuate that B was a borderline (although B is for Borderline).  But she certainly exhibited quite a few borderline traits, many of which I've not even mentioned.  What I can say with absolute certainty is that I dodged a bullet by making like Usain Bolt and sprinting to safety.

And so, it appears this Christmas will be solo, stuck in the hell that is Kansas.  Although, I'm still thinking cookie baking should remain on the weekend's agenda, because cookies.

How do you plan to spend the holidays?

A Few Dating Stories - Q4 2017

While nothing warranting its own entry has taken place, from a dating perspective, in the last few months, I thought I'd share a few recent experiences.

I'll begin by providing a bit of context, with respect to the dating landscape here in Kansas City.  In addition to so many women posting photos of themselves hunting or fishing, I'm smacked in the face and reminded I now live in the Bible Belt almost every time I look at a woman's profile.  I've never seen either God or Jesus mentioned so many times in my life.  As a result, the dating pool here is neither broad nor deep.  Seriously, having just looked, I can tell you that I've got 269 dating profiles hidden on my Match.com account, mostly for religious incompatibility.

Since I've hit the KC area, I've met three women.  The first, I discovered was just a huge mistake, but that's a story not worth sharing.  With the second, I was very interested and wanted to see her again, but she didn't feel a spark.  I honestly have never had that happen before.  The third, I chronicled in my religion post.  Only three actual dates in a new area, where I've never played before.  This isn't a function of lack of interest from the opposite sex.  For example, today alone I received four unsolicited notes from women, along with another three passive aggressive means of showing interest.  Yet, while I've sincerely endeavored to cease using Sloan as a benchmark, the pickings remain slim.

Perhaps out of frustration over there being so few potentially compatible women, I've slowly begun to accept what appears to be the new normal.  I'm referring to the trend of educated, intelligent people losing the ability to write real messages, with complete thoughts and actual sentences.  It truly makes me ill that our ability to communicate has deteriorated to such a low.  In any case, I've not automatically dismissed someone who communicates in such a manner.  Hell, I even responded to a woman who couldn't differentiate between 'your' and 'you're'!

To that end, a few days ago, I actually responded to a woman who sent barely a sentence (at least she gave me her name).  I thought 'I can do this; I can really treat email as texting.'  Unfortunately, I was disappointed yet again.  After 14 message exchanges, I realized this woman hadn't asked me one question about me; she was contributing nothing to the conversation and I was completely carrying the damned thing.  It should come as no surprise I dropped it, at that point.

A month or so ago, another loon appeared on the scene.  Based upon her profile and initial email, she seemed like a nice package; hot, well educated, a closet dirty girl, etc.  Then, for reasons that aren't germane to this story, she disclosed she'd been married and divorced twice.  This was on our third email exchange.  Needless to say, sirens began blaring and red lights started flashing in my head.  I was very up front and told her that was a deal breaker for me.  I couldn't figure out how to diplomatically say that every woman I'd been involved with who'd been married twice before me (including my borderline ex-wife), was utterly and completely bat shit crazy.  So, I left that part out.  Then came the emails.  First was the challenge, that I was being unfair; she sent this note both through Match and direct to my 'real' email.  Then came a rather lengthy note explaining why her first marriage ended.  If what she said was true (and I have no reason to believe otherwise), her first husband was a whack job, himself, so the marriage couldn't be repaired.  She promised to share the circumstances of her second marriage.  My mind was already made up, and I'd communicated the sentiment, so I didn't respond to her notes.  Admittedly, I was interested in what she had to say about marriage number two, but I've learned that engagement can be mistaken for interest.  Instead of insight, I received two more notes on both Match and regular email.  The first berated me for not acknowledging her and the second was a 'good luck on your search'.  Your honor, I rest my case on women who want to make you husband #3 or greater.

How's your love life, single readers?

Kansas And Snobbery

Now that I've mostly unpacked, I can return to a more normal existence, which includes my blog.  I'm quite certain I'll have much to write about in the coming months.  I'll begin with Kansas, itself.

Ah, Kansas.  I've lived here for two months now and while I admit to not experiencing everything KC has to offer, at the moment, my assessment is that Kansas sucks.  Large hairy donkey dicks, if you'd like additional descriptors.

Before relocating here for a job, I'd heard so many great things about KC.  Those I spoke with made it sound modern, vibrant, and interesting.  Great, I thought, sort of like Richmond, but in a cornfield.  Except it's not, not even close.  I'm speaking of the vibrant stuff; the cornfield aspect is accurate.

Before I go any further, I want to make it crystal clear that the people here are great.  They're kind, and welcoming, and you'll never read a single unkind word about them from me.

With that out of the way, let's address the stereotype of the Midwest being a bit slower.  Yeah, it's not a stereotype.  It's true to the point where one's mind is just blown, sometimes.  For example, a few weeks ago, I returned from a business trip and didn't hit my home in the KC burbs until around 11 p.m.  Because I'd been traveling, my fridge was empty, so I trolled through the area, figuring I'd make due with some drive through.  Except, I done figured wrong; fucking nothing was open.  No drive through's, grocery stores, nada.  Now, one of the value propositions of a chain, such as McDonalds or Wendy's, is consistency.  A quarter pounder with cheese is the same all over the world, for the most part, so you don't have to worry about whether 'this place sucks' (we'll pretend Mickey D's doesn't suck, for the moment).  One of those 'consistencies' is drive through hours; they all advertise being open late.  Not in Kansas, apparently.  Same deal with pharmacies.  You want a script after 6 p.m. on the weekend?  Yeah, good luck with that.  Just this week, I discovered the dry cleaner I use closes whenever the hell they want to.  Could be 6:00, 6:30, 6:43...whenever.

At least the food should be good here, right?  It's the  heartland, after all.  It may sound odd, but the two benchmarks I use as food indicators of excellence are meat, specifically ribeye steak, and donuts.  Having grown up in close proximity to those gods of dessert, the Pennsylvania Dutch, I find a good donut to be a mark of excellence.  Needless to say, upon my arrival, I inquired about both items.

I was told, by numerous sources, that if I wanted great meat, to go to McGonigles.  So, with great anticipation, I visited the establishment last weekend.  I walked in and will admit they had a lot of meat.  Upon closer examination though, it really wasn't any more than other butcher shops I've frequented.  This place just kept everything in the case, versus holding some in the deep chill.  A friendly individual asked how he could be of assistance and I asked about the various ribeye options.  He responded they had one type of ribeye (their website said they carried pasture raised in addition to the standard grain fed; it lies).  Strike one for not at least having pasture raised.  I then inquired whether they carried prime beef.  He informed me that everything in the case was graded 'choice or higher'.  To that, I responded 'you massive pile of idiocy!  The only thing higher than choice is prime, dip shit!  Therefore, if you have no prime, you really only have choice.'  Okay, I may not have said that aloud but I so wanted to.  In the end, I took two ribeyes home, and they were fairly good.  I've got a few more shops to scope out, but I admit to not being optimistic at finding prime or pasture raised meat.  Damn, I miss Richmond.

My experience was similar on the donut front.  I'd been told LaMar's donuts were the absolute bomb.  And seeing a line 30 feet deep on my first visit certainly seemed to lend some credence to that assertion.  Needless to say, I elected to stop by another time, when I didn't have to stand in that godawful line.  Upon collecting my box of supposed yumminess, I raced home, excited eagerly anticipating a lovely donut experience.  Long story short, most every grocery store donut I've had puts LaMar's to shame (except for the ones here, which are inedible).  In all fairness, good donuts weren't plentiful in Richmond, which had been taken over by 'gourmet' donuts, which aren't sickeningly sweet.  That's the point of donuts, you boobs!!!  But I digress...

Right now, some readers may be thinking me quite the snob.  However, I don't view it that way.  A snob looks down upon people and things he or she considers inferior, which I'm not doing at all.  For example, if you are manning the meat counter at what promotes itself to be an amazing butcher shop (and this place thinks rather highly of itself), you should really know what you're talking about.  At the very least, know as much as me, your customer.  You should possess the knowledge that only three grades of meat are recognized in the US; select, choice, and prime.  I could call up every butcher shop I've frequented in the past, and they'd rattle that info off and call me an idiot for asking.  It's not being a snob if you're simply expecting an establishment to live up to its own hype. 

Back to dissing the state.  One of the oddest differences between here and, well, every other place I've been, is bottle caps.  Here, they feel like they've been tightened to withstand the apocalypse.  Seriously, I'm not a weak guy, by any stretch of the imagination.  I lift weights and have a solid set of arms and shoulders.  But I've about had a few hernias, opening a few bottles.  Seriously, I've had to break out the channel locks a few times!

And lest you think I've missed one of the most important aspects of the area, yes, it's fucking flat out here.  It's flat and the wind seems to blow constantly and with great ferocity.  Not to mention, it's fucking cold.  It's the first week of November and it's already below freezing at night and not so hot during the daytime.  It's still consistently in the 70's back in RVA.

So, welcome to Kansas, asshole.  You'll be here for awhile.