The other day I got a message, via an internet dating site that shall remain nameless, from a woman from Los Angeles. Yeah, the one in California.
"Oh, you want to have coffee? I'll hop in my jet. See you in five hours."
It was obvious from this message that it was a mass email scam of some sort. It was completely generic, the author had obviously never read my profile, and the syntax was painful.
Oh, and in the Description area, the following was listed:
Height: 4'4"
Hair: Bald
So not only is someone trying to take the money they mistakingly think I have, they're trying to do it by tempting me with a bald midget three time zones away!
"Here's my checking account number, Mini-Me's sister! I love you!"
At least pretend it's a tall blond from Louisville like the good scam artists do. Of course, even then you can tell it's a fake, mainly because the email is written like this:
I read profile and have you many manly things I like. I live in your city and enjoy the places and things people in your city enjoy. How about local sport team? They are team I like. I am tall blond considered the very good looking. I search for man to love forever and you are man.
Write me at svetlana@
russianwomenwhowanttotakeallyourmoney.com
Of course, these easily identifiable scams are nothing compared to the real dates. Oh, real dates, how you disappoint and frustrate me.
I recently had a quick dinner with the most humorless, critical, self-important woman to ever ruin a quick dinner.
I was chastised for not composting. Repeat: I WAS CHASTISED FOR NOT COMPOSTING.
I'm overweight, I hate my job, I had to sell my Acura to a scrap yard, and my social life has been reduced to me trolling on internet dating sites. Shame on me for not thinking to intentionally let garbage rot in the backyard. Go fuck your hat, Broomhilda.
She droned on and on about knitting hats for the homeless, which is very nice; good for her. But WHY BE A BITCH TO ME? I'm right here, trying to carry on a conversation with a cyborg from the planet Cuntron 5. At least fake being nice, god damn it!
And god help the homeless if they ever have to meet the "mystery angel" who knits their hats. She'll spend hours analyzing the life mistakes they've made. She'll wonder why they just didn't go to college or at least learn a trade. And why the pesky alcoholism and/or drug habit?
"You can keep the hat. Winter ain't that cold."
12 Comments:
Wait! You don't compost? How dare you sir!
I'd throw her in a compost heap.
Heh. Cuntron 5. People like her aren't looking for love, lust, or a hand to hold while you watch Must Love Dogs. They are just looking for a mute captive audience.
Rather than ruin the evenings of countless bald but otherwise decent dudes, she should just do the right thing and arrange her dolls on the couch and lecture them.
Shit. Didn't mean to insinuate that you are bald. For all I know, you sport a fabulous sparkling KY waterfall.
Also, baldness is sexy.
I love you!
Sorry your date sucked.
Ohmygod, if I wasn't already making another man miserable, I'd totally marry you. ;)
You know, if that girl really cared about the homeless, she's blow them. Just sayin'.
LMAO at the bald midget! Hahahahaha!
Dude, totally lame... I can't say that I have ever been on a date quite that bad, but I do have a "No Hippie" policy that I am very strict on and very upfront about.
If the word "compost" were to ever come up on a date, she better be complaining to me about a bill from her gardener.
Maybe she knits jimmy hats for the homeless.
Why do you always force me to laugh at your pain? I chortle, coffee dribbling from my nostrils and then I feel guilty.
Thanks.
I went on a blind date with a dude who looked alarmingly alot like Nosferatu. That was still a better date than yours sounds.
Hey, once you've been with a bald midget chick, you never go back...
We do the composting thing here, thanks to my landlord buying a composting bin, but it never occurred to me to browbeat someone else about it.
I went on some amazingly bad internet dates when I tried it. I nearly gave up (the second-to-last one) when the very good-looking well-educated woman spent the entire evening cataloging her tawdry past life-- coke and heroin use, sleeping with her college professors, cheating on her now-ex-husband, recently banging her married neighbor. I was in silent amazement by the end of the evening. I didn't bother to find out what she was holding back for the second date.
Fortunately the next night's date with the last woman on my list went better. I'm happily married to her.
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