Dating In Kansas

In a word, it sucks.  But don't just take my word for it.  Empirical data exists!

I rest my case...

What Have I Become???

Recently, I haven't been feeling myself and I'm not sure what's happening.  Putting it into words has been a challenge, so I'll share two events that illustrate why I'm so out of sorts.

First, I was in Richmond last week, to deal with a few things and one of those found me in circuit court.  It was not a criminal matter and I wasn't the defendant.  Since there are apparently not many civil cases at any one time, mine got lumped in with what I discovered was drug court.  I'd briefly researched the judge I'd be in front of and discovered he ran his own program for substance abusers.  My case was placed behind the various drug cases, which afforded me the opportunity to observe this judge and his interaction with those in front of him.  

To say I was astonished by his behavior would be an understatement.  He treated each defendant with kindness and respect.  It was clear he had read every bit of the case files in front of him.  When rendering his decision, this man showed more concern for a positive outcome for these people than he did about 'carrying out justice'.  When considering those who've broken the law, my position has always been 'try 'em and fry 'em' but something about the humanity I saw demonstrated in that courtroom struck home with me.  I walked out of that courthouse thinking the world needs more of what I'd just witnessed.

The second event occurred just yesterday, when a colleague and I were discussing an execution gone wrong in I think Arkansas, not that it matters.  Again, my position has always been to take the bastards out and shoot 'em.  But yesterday's conversation made me think about the topic in a different way.  Rather than focus on the condemned, what about those who physically carry out the sentence?  The guy who administers the lethal injection, or pulls the switch on 'Old Sparky'?  What a terrible burden to carry around; I just took the life of another human.  With the exception of sociopaths, no one escapes the trauma associated with such an act.  In the past, PA used firing squads to execute prisoners.  In order to prevent the guilt associated with taking a life, all but one of the guards had blanks loaded in his gun, and the weapons weren't handed out until right before the event.  Let me tell you, when you're firing blanks, it's a completely different feeling than when discharging live ammo, so there's no way the man who fired the rounds that killed the prisoner didn't know he was that guy.  Studies have shown the death penalty isn't a deterrent in the least.  

At the end of the brief conversation, I'd reached the conclusion that the death penalty should be removed as punishment.  Not because some nasty scumbags don't deserve a slow, painful death, but to preserve the humanity of those tasked with carrying out the order.  

So, what's happening to me?  Has my brain been scrambled somehow?  Oh shit!  

I'm becoming a LIBERAL!!!

2018 So Far

We're a little over a month into 2018 and not much has changed here in Flat City.

I remain single and am not engaging with anyone, much less meeting; I'm just not interested.  Beyond the way too typical problem of meeting my criteria, having something to say, etc. incompatibility when it comes to faith continues to rear its ugly head, here in the Bible belt.  Regular readers know of my issue with someone claiming to be a devout Christian, but openly wanting to fuck, and soon.  Flat out hypocrisy.  Anyway, Kansas is thick with women who fall into this category.

This is a temporary situation and the most I want, while I'm here, is a superficial dalliance.

To that end, a few weeks ago, I decided to put my religious hypocrisy issues aside and meet a woman who was both active in her church and thought she may have wanted some first date sex.  Yes, I was in need of some (naked) human touch.  Unfortunately, she had already proven to be quite the bumpkin, having moved from middle of nowhere Nebraska (I know, redundant description) to the big city (hah!) of KC, and hadn't been much of anywhere else.  She was intelligent, for sure, but worldly, she was not.  When we met, I just wasn't feeling it, nor was I feeling well, because of the flu someone gave me on a plane somewhere.  I somewhat blew my chances for a quick fuck when I responded to her question of 'So, how do you like it here, so far?' with 'I fucking hate the Midwest'.  Did I mention I sort of lose the ability to simulate charming, when I'm sick?  And I'm still wondering why she didn't want to go home with me...

On a similar note to the above (the middle of nowhere portion), I was chatting with a guy on a flight 'home' the week before last.  I mentioned just moving here and he responded that he and his wife had never been happier about relocating to KC.  I asked where he had moved from to which he noted a small town in Iowa.  It literally took all of my restraint to not blurt out 'no shit KC's better if you've been living in fucking nowhere all your life!'  But I didn't.

The other major contributing factor to my not wanting to date right now has to do with Kansas itself.  I've already documented all the ways in which this state sucks humongous hirsute equus asinus genitals and it's truly sunken in that coming here was a mistake.  Yes, I enjoy my job; I've gotten to meet real rocket scientists at NASA and a big chunk of my product guarantees every SpaceX rocket functions.  But work's only 10 hours a day and leaves a lot of free time to fill.  Ultimately, I think I'm avoiding emotional involvement in order to prevent putting down roots here.  The same goes for exploring the city; why bother learning about a shitty town when you plan on getting the hell out in the next few years?

While my employment contract has a small escape clause, 'because Kansas sucks' isn't in there; I checked.

As I sit in a place that will struggle to reach freezing today, while Richmond might hit 70 degrees, I ponder another topic that makes me less than jovial.  My Porsche is finally in transit from Richmond to here.  Ordinarily, being reunited with it after 6 months would excite me, but the roads here, even if they weren't covered in salt, are flat, straight, boring, and in shit condition.  The car may very well be sold, since it likely won't exit my garage more than three or four times per year.

I promise to put more effort into refraining from the 'woe is me; Kansas sucks' entries, unless I discover a new way it does so. 

Now, get off my flat lawn...

They Lie About Meat Here!

As regular readers already know, one of the pleasures I cherish most in life is dry aged, prime beef.  Back in Richmond, I had a butcher who regularly carried such a delicacy, in addition to pasture raised, and Midwest grain fed beef.  They knew me by name, so I may have spent a little time there.  Back to KC, I've already documented my first carnivorous outing as a complete disaster, but I still had a few spots to check.  One is only about ten minutes from my office, so I popped by on Friday, after work.  As I traversed the constantly worsening neighborhoods, not finding prime beef became a secondary concern, behind just getting out alive.

I arrived safely, but quickly became discouraged once I walked through the front door.  The cases were filled with a lot of not so awe inspiring meat.  Oh well, I'll just get a few things, since I'm here.  Once I'd made my choices, the guy who waited on me led me to the register, where another older gentleman was running the machine.  Although I surely knew the answer, I still posed the question 'do you ever get prime beef here?'  The older gentleman cast a look to the younger guy and said 'show him'.

Long story short, I was taken to a huge walk in cooler, with dozens of sides of beef hanging in it, and told most of that was prime.  And the angels sang.  They didn't keep it in the front case, because that was the high volume operation.  Next time, I should call ahead and they'd cut anything I wanted.

So, this past weekend, I did just that.  I'll skip to the part that matters, which is what the butcher told me -  'uh yeah, we don't have USDA graders, so it's technically not prime.  If we paid to have graders, our best meat would be prime, though.'    Wait, last time I was there, I was shown all this meat that was supposed to be prime.  Eh, fuck it; just give me a super thick ribeye with a ton of cap.  When I picked my meat up, my fears were justified.  What they sold me would have never passed for prime in the first place.

For those who've never experienced prime beef, perhaps a visual comparison would help.  The top photo shows genuine USDA prime beef, that's been dry aged 30 plus days.  Note the copious amounts of intramuscular fat (aka marbling) and that the steaks look dense and big for what they are.  The almost dry look of these steaks are evidence they've been dry aged.  These steaks were the best I've ever had (which I'd say about every prime steak I purchased from my butcher in Richmond).

If we compare with the meat in the photo below, which is what I purchased this weekend, you'll see none of those attributes are apparent.  It's not that this steak was bad; it was fairly good.  But it sure as fuck wasn't prime or anything close to it.  Hell, I've had choice grade beef that was closer to prime than this.

To summarize, even the damned Bible Belt dwellers lie like rugs.  Oh, and the wind hasn't stopped blowing since I arrived in September.  Someone get me out of here!

For those interested in more detail about how beef is graded, take a look at this:

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.