D-bags of Match.com

The only successful couple to come out of Match.com in 3 years. Cherish the love.

Those who know me have heard all about my summer on Match.com – during which I wasted 35 precious moments of my life filling out a never-ending questionnaire, endless hours cleaning Match emails out of my inbox,  30 days on dates with the especially socially awkward, and 3 of the shortest seconds of my life deleting my profile at the end of the month. In all fairness, I also spent the month being entertained/entertaining by reading and collecting emails like the gem below – and, actually met a couple nice guys out of the deal, but for the most part what follows is a classic example of the typical Match slinkster. 

 
I present to you this message I received from a guy who called himself, “wallstreet 4u” –  I’m still trying to figure out what that means…you’re presenting me with Wall Street? Frankly sir, I’m not sure if I’m prepared or well-suited for that responsibility. But let me give you props Gordon Gecko for bringing something that was hip in the 80’s into the 2000’s by making “for” a number and not spelling out “you”.  Do you do a lot of texting? If so, ok…that’s really cool. Texting is  basically the new breezy thing to do. I’ve heard they do a lot of that on this famed “Wall Street” that’s so impressive – good power play!
 
The subject line that was supposed to grab my interest…”ur hot! I’m going to get to know you” – great, so you are superficial…that’s ok, because I am too a little bit, but the fact that you don’t provide a picture of yourself is a LITTLE hypocritical…
 
So strike one. Hypocrite. Ugly hypocrite, probably. Strikes two, three, four, five, and eleven to follow….read on to see what this D-Bag of Match.com writes to a COMPLETE STRANGER…
 

Headline: cool.but, can u make great chocolate chip cookies?:)   

 ~princess,
understand.one of the things that i always have been good at, mainly because i have always been on my own with my life is first impressions & being very direct with people.  

to learn a little more about your personality, i have three questions for you?
do you prefer dogs or cats?
do you prefer strawberries, chocolate syrup, or whipped cream?
do you prefer cold quick showers or long warm bathes?  

   

Let’s start with the obvious first failure. A stranger calling me “princess” makes my stomach wretch. I think I actually broke out in angry hives when I read that. Unless I have an official title or am performing with Sir Elton John…that is so ick. You ARE from Wall Street, aren’t you?

Should I even attempt to tackle sentences (nay, fragments) 1 and 2? You have been on your own with your life you say? Not only do I understand that, I applaud you for it because it takes a lot to be a human and sustain yourself “on your own” given the debilitating low number of evolutionary advancements we have to keep ourselves alive – like opposable thumbs and two legs and such.  Few people accomplish “on their own”ness in their life. My pets can’t put that on a resume (well, my dog probably could because he’s a scavenger, but certainly not the fish…unless I put them back in their natural habitat where they would most likely thrive and end up better off without me). Anyway, congrats! Now, in celebration of this, what say we go out and buy you a punctuation dictionary! 

On to the questions. Hmmm….well…first of all, question genie – question genies are TOTALLY useless – unless you are a wish genie, I’m disinterested in you asking about things in groups of three. Anyone can be a question genie. And FYI – be a man about it….”I have three questions for you….question mark?   ???????????? Maybe? If you’re ok with questions…?? I don’t know? Questions are always questionable? I’m a douche? Yes?”
 
I prefer dogs – but is that REALLY one of the FIRST things you want to know about me? I hope you have a cat that wasn’t completely de-clawed and makes little holes in your curtains. If you even have curtains. FYI – you will get nowhere NEAR my “curtains”.
 
Strawberries, chocolate syrup, or whipped cream??? Yeah, I know what kind of sundae you’re talking about buddy, and the only people who get to order those from this dairy queen are guys I’ve known for at least 48 hours. So you don’t get to see a menu until I see your face, psycho.
  
Quick showers or long “bathes”? Uhhhh….isn’t it just “baths”? Are you British? If you’re not British I find that alternative spelling unacceptable and count it as a spelling error against you. Also, you needn’t ask those intimate questions of strangers. Perrrr-son-alllllll!
 
Oh and 1942 called – it wants it cookie-demanding sexist back. Tell you what – I won’t bake them for you, but I will hit you across the chest with a roll of Tollhouse tub ‘o dough cookies, you tub o’douch. 
 
 
Yes, a few important life lessons were learned that summer – the most important one being that there are a lot of freaks in this world…and at virtually any given minute of any given day, they’re all on Match.com. Actually, the most important one was probably to remember to wear some geetch when unsure of the location of your first date. OH, but that’s a story for another day! The bottom line is that I’ve decided to put my faith in the old-fashioned way of meeting someone – in a poorly lit bar, slightly intoxicated, heavily medicated, sexually frustrated, and, if necessary with the proper gentleman, sedated.  And if by some fantastic twist of fate WallStreet4u happens across this post – there’s one thing I’d really like him to take away from my little anecdote – and its that I probably wouldn’t have posted this if you would have let me order the steak, cheap skate. SKIDOOOOOSH!

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