Lecture Man

As promised last time, I finally got off my callipygous little ass and went on a date. I did it for you, really; I did it for ProngTwo. The blog part, not the finding love part. Not one of us thought this date was going to result in real actual Drooling Babbling Incoherent Love, did we? I mean, a guy who ends all of his emails with a condescending "hint" is hardly the type of guy you're going to be swooning over unless he's obscenely good looking and dressed in a suit made entirely of real one hundred dollar bills. And turns out to be that guy who plays Don Draper on Mad Men. And even then... unlikely. So I trundled myself off to this date, knowing full well that it was bound to be good fodder for the blog. A blogfodder date. Is that a term? It is now.

Internet, this guy did not disappoint! And lucky for all of us, this was the kind of date wherein my role was to listen and not speak. For behold, it was a date with Lecture Man!

Lecture Topic One (2 minute mark):

Me: So... tell me about yourself.

Lecture Man: Absolutely. Just broke up with my girlfriend of four years. She kept the house. Mutal breakup. Well, between you and me I think she was cheating on me though I never got total confirmation. We had this house down by blar de blar with a detached wah wah wah and something mind-crushingly boring about getting screwed over via the first-time buyer's laws...

Me: ....

LM: ...more details about a house that I no longer own, blah, blah, blah, that BITCH kept everything.

Me [snapping to attention at the word bitch]: Right. So. Does your family live in Toronto, too?

Which led us to Lecture Topic Two (30 minute mark):

LM: Mom lives in Toronto, she was basically a single parent. I mean, I saw my Dad all the time - he lives in New York. But now we don't speak to each other. Basically, he's a little bit of an asshole. Actually, you know what? He's not just a little bit of an asshole. He's a giant asshole.

Me: ...

LM: A bunch of horrible statements about my Dad that you'd never want to hear ever, let alone on a first date.

Me [pointedly not ordering another drink]: ...

LM [ordering beer number three]: ... and that was when I was... what? Maybe ten or eleven? I mean, what a DOUCHEBAG. And then, the year I was in grade 9...

Me [with a slightly murderous edge to my voice]: Okay. So. Did you get into traveling when you were a kid, or was that when you were older?

Which led us to Lecture Topic Three (one hour mark):

LM: Have you ever been to Europe?

Me: No, but I...

LM: Oh, if you haven't been to Europe, you haven't really traveled. I've been to Italy twice. It's so amazing. You'll have to go someday. Not an option to not go. Since you haven't been, you probably don't know that in Venice, you have to get around in these BOATS called "GONDOLAS". If you get a chance, you could look that up online, but you're never going to get a real sense of the city unless you've been there because...

Me [becoming silently engrossed in the unfolding drama of a birthday party a couple of tables over]: ...

LM: ... called the Sistine Chapel. Have you heard of a painter named Michelangelo? You may have, he's pretty famous, though don't worry if you haven't. You'll probably want to read up on that before you go, though, because he was pretty important...

Me [cursing my decision not to bring a recording device to accurately capture this drivel]: hmmm, yes. I'll have to look him up.

LM: ..waxing poetic about the beauty of this city in Italy called "Rome" wherein they have a place that's part of the Catholic Church that you may not have heard about called the "VATICAN"...

Which led us to Lecture Topic Four (what may as well have been the 14 hour mark):

LM: ... the influence of the Catholic Church, something wildly inaccurate about the Pope, several rabidly anti-Catholic statements, blar de blar... Oh God, you're not CATHOLIC, are you?

Me: Nope.

LM: ... good, because those assholes...

I have no idea how we got to Lecture Topic Five, since my undivided attention was directed at thwarting LM's attempts to order beer number five and instead getting the server to bring the motherfucking CHEQUE for CHRIST'S SAKE (eternity mark):

LM: ... the G20 disaster last month. I mean, I don't vote. What's the point, right? But if I did, you can bet your ass that my vote wouldn't go for any of those corporate goons...

Me [gesturing wildly at anyone who even remotely appeared to be employed by the bar]: ...

LM: ... basically a police state within the next two years. Everyone's too busy being brainwashed by CNN to even NOTICE that....

Me [alternating between the universal sign for cheque and the universal sign for choking]: ...

LM: I'll have another pi...

Me: WE'LL TAKE THE BILL.

LM: Oh. So early? It's only 11:00.

Me: Yeah, well... it's a week night and I have to work tomorrow, so...

LM: Oh, you have one of THOSE kinds of jobs. What do you do anyway?

Me [tossing some cash on the table]: Communications. Okaytakecarenowbye.

LM [shouting after my retreating figure]: This was really fun! Let's do it again sometime soon!

I have not called Lecture Man for date number two. And now aren't we all glad that I didn't give him my phone number? Yes. Yes, we are.

Breaking News: ProngTwo date on Thursday

Yes. I know. I have a blog. I'm supposed to be running around dating like a ferret on crystal meth, and then reporting back. But y'know.... it's summertime. And who in their right mind would go on a series of dismal dates with men who have the personality of toasted cardboard when they could be frolicking* in a cherry orchard in BC? Or playing music with friends? Or going for delightful picnics in High Park with people whose company I ACTUALLY ENJOY?

* by frolicking, I mean putting in 18 hour days at my parent's commercial cherry orchard for my annual 'working vacation'. Which, while extremely fun in a hardcore sort of way, does not lend itself well to the Saturday afternoon coffee date.

Also, I have been spending a lot of time with my new boyfriend, iPhone. Once I download the iLoveMake and iRomance apps, I won't really need a real boyfriend, will I? Okay, yes, I realize that I may have ridiculed someone mercilessly for their own personal addiction to the iPhone. But it's not like I'm taking it with me on dates. Now that I have an iPhone, I don't even need to go on dates!

I know. Pathetic. You don't have to remind me, Internet. I am fully aware that one can't have a relationship with a mobile device. Stop nagging. GOD.

In the interest of fodder for this cobwebbed corner of the internet, I am going on a date on Thursday. Huuuratio IVIIX will surely provide excellent material with which to write about, since I'm already slightly annoyed by his insistence on providing his phone number at the end of each email he sends:

HIVIIX: p.s. my cell phone number is 416-xxx-xxxx. Hint: call me!

Me: You've provided that number 12 times already. Hint: I won't be calling you until I determine that you are not a psycho who will use my phone number to stalk me in the manner of Dubai Man.

I will report back.

Instant Messaging: An Open Letter

Dear Horatio T. Millionaire-

First of all, nobody believes you're really a millionaire. I would suggest you try a more standard internet dating lie. Here are a few ideas:

• I'm 6'2" (actual height: 5'8")
• I work out every day (actual work-out schedule: three times per year)
• Here is a recent photo (photo circa 1993)
  
• I'm an actor (actual occupation: waiter)
• I love all kinds of food (will only eat meat and potatoes. If they are not touching each other on the plate. Sauce of any kind will be met with shrieks of horror. Salt is the only 'spice' that is acceptable. Vegetables? Ugh. You're not one of those VEGANS are you??)
• I'm an actor (actual occupation: lawyer)
  
• I have a great sense of humour (thinks puns are hilarious)

Second: given that you seem unable to converse about anything other than the possibility of my participating in a threesome with you and a yet-to-be-named third party, I would NOT like to continue the conversation with you via MSN Messenger. And no, I don't feel like I'm living in the 'dark-ages' by not having an MSN account. It's 2010. Does ANYONE still use MSN? Good luck with the threesome fantasy, though. I'm sure that'll totally work out for you any day now!

Also: you should think about cutting back on the porn. Bow chicca bow-bow BOOOOOW.

Love,
ProngTwo

Hurratio XVII

Hurratio XVII is probably dead. I say this because we had a fabulous first date, complete with excellent witty banter, a captivating and sincere discussion about our respective careers/passions, and a decent amount of hockey-related trash talking. I'm pretty sure even the waitress wanted us to have a second date - that's how awesome date number one was. Consequently, this is how we ended the evening:

HXVII: So listen, I had a really great time. Can we do this again sometime?

Me: Me too - I'd love to meet up again soon!

HXVII: What's your schedule looking like next week?

Me: I have house guests arriving on Thursday, but sometime before that would be great!

HXVII: So... should I call you?

Me: Definitely! You've got my number, right?

HXVII: [getting out his cell phone]: Let me just make sure I've got it... it's 416-xxx-xxxx, right?

Me: Right.

HXVII: Okay, I've got your number! Talk to you soon?

Me: Talk to you soon.

And... NOTHING. Not a call, not a text, not even one of those pathetic OKCupid winks. Just a long blank silence. Which means he died, right? Sudden coronary, traffic accident, lightening: something like that. I mean, I haven't been perusing the obituaries, because I don't want to invade Hurratio XVII's right to a private, stalker-free memorial service. But I'm thinking he's definitely bit it sometime in the last seven days. RIGHT?

Updates

The Lead Guitarist
Well. I finally decided on A's 'balls out' approach to the LG situation and just asked him if he wanted to meet up. The reply from LG was that he would definitely love to set something up (YES), but he will also be busy all summer (WHAT?). The Wing Woman asserts that LG is actually busy all summer and has a variety legit/complicated issues to contend with that will get in the way of his doing any summertime dating. I strongly suspect LG is employing Dating Guideline Number Three. Either way, a date with LG is probably not on the horizon. I have officially put the ball in LG's court and now I'm walking away. Perhaps he will bean me in the back of the head with the ball and take us all by surprise. But if I were you, I wouldn't wait for it.

Hobbits
Conversation my friend had with her autistic son after discussing The Hobbit Story with him:

Mom: So what did we learn from this story?

Son: If a hobbit comes to the door and I manage to catch him, don't lock him in my room.

The Interwebs
Did you know that going on eleven frillion blind dates with single guys who are mainly employed in the tech industry and consequently are a thousand times better at writing HTML than conversing with a real live woman can remove your Will to Live? Yeah. I took a little break from the interwebs dating over the past month. This freed up my time for some very important activities:

1. Season Six of The Sopranos.
2. Drinking multiple gin and tonics (with cucumber) in the back yard with impunity, having no place to drive to or be sober for in the foreseeable future.
3. Sorting out of differences with The Cat: we had a very terrible fight over my repeated absences, wherein we both said and did things we regretted such as biting (him), name calling (me), and throwing large plastic cat toys (me again). My dating hiatus has allowed us to cement our reconciliation. And by reconciliation, I mean that the biting, name calling and throwing is back down to reasonable levels.

But now that The Sopranos have all been whacked (Don't stop! Bel---eiiiiving.....), the Hendrick's supply is depleted and The Cat is launching fewer after-work greetings in the manner of Cato (wherein I am forced into the surprise role of Inspector Clouseau), it is time to put ProngTwo back into action.

I'm meeting up with Hurratio XVII at Margret tonight, 8pm.

Instant Messaging: Best One Yet

Whoreratio: Are you into Big & Thick ? Contact me at xxx@bell.net so i can email you pics of the beast

Me: Oh good. You again.

W: feeling horny?

Me: Not even the slightest.

W: wots ur email? I can send u pix.

Me: Yes, I think you've mentioned that before. Tempting, but I'll pass. Are you having any luck at all with this ongoing big and thick idiocy?

W: 2 requests today

Me: Because I can't imagine you're having many takers.

W: hot babes infact

Me: Right... are you absolutely sure they were WOMEN?

W: [Whoreratio has logged out]

ProngTwo=NOT hideous

You may be tempted to think that the reason for my current state of singledom is that I am actually 6'9", 450 lbs, balding and have the face of a day-old peeled apple. But in fact: NOT SO. Just this weekend, I had confirmation from two distinct and completely reliable sources that I may even be edging on the side of Attractive.

Source One: Giant Donut-Eating Stranger* in front of CoffeeTime
While walking home from the pharmacy, GDES and I have the following conversation:

GDES [as I am walking past]: Excuse me! Can I ask you something?

Me [stopping]: Um... okay.

GDES: Why you SO BEAUTIFUL?

Me: uuuuuuuuhhhh....

GDES: Imma ask you something else!

Me: ....

GDES: How long you been married?

Me: I'm not... uh... I'm not married.

GDES: WHAT? How can YOU not be married?! How long you been with your boyfriend?

Me [walking away]: Okay, well. Right. I guess I should get going now.

GDES [shouting after me]: He a LUCKY MAN, BABY!

* both the stranger AND the donut were giant.

Source Two: The Interwebs
I receive the following email:

Dear ProngTwo:

We are very pleased to report that you are in the top half of OkCupid's most attractive users.

[Blar de blar, site stats, blah, blah, blah, algorithms, yada yada yada.]

You will now see more attractive people in your match results. [Some other stuff you don't care about.] The people we recommend will be more attractive. Also! You'll be shown to more attractive people in their match results.

[Additional drivel about how to login.] And, no, we didn't just send this email to everyone on OkCupid. Go ask an ugly friend and see.

Sincerely,

OKCupid

So you SEE, Internet? A stranger and an automated interwebs messaging system cannot be wrong. Clearly I'm not nearly as hideous as you imagined. So... mystery not solved. Although a wild guess could be that I'm still single because I'm impossibly picky and ruthlessly cynical. You can't really get an Xtreme Make-Over for that, can you? DAMMIT.

Rules of Interwebs Dating, Part III

A few of you got a bit frothy about about GNTEP because you claim that Guideline Number Two Exit Phrase isn't very direct.* And possibly there are a few people out there who may think GNTEP borders on Playing Games. I hope that it goes without saying that Playing Games is NOT COOL. But I don't think the GNTEP qualifies as Playing Games. And this leads me to...

GUIDELINE NUMBER THREE
For the average intelligent Canadian dater, a little subtlety is perfectly acceptable.

We live in Canada. Or at least I live in Canada. (If you live in NYC, then I guess you can go ahead and ignore this next bit.) We are a polite people. We find overly direct conversations to be a bit like drinking Pepsi straight from the 2L plastic jug: uncouth, messy and bad for one's health.

Accordingly, I assert that it IS possible to let someone know that you're not into dating them without emotionally smacking them in the face with the details. But let me be clear: there is a small window in which Guideline Number Three is appropriate. Once you've been seeing someone for more than a few weeks, or you've had dinner and breakfast together consecutively (if you know what I mean), then the window CLOSES.

For example:

SCENARIO ONE: Are you breaking up with your live-in girlfriend of three years? Has her ongoing baby-talk and insistence that you refer to each other as 'My Wittle Wove Muffin' finally driven you to the brink of insanity? Yes? Well, you're going to have to have a few conversations with her about it before you can start looking for your own pleather-lined bachelor pad in Parkdale.

SCENARIO TWO: Are you just wrapping up a second date at Dufflet, wherein the zip of the luscious lemon tart was the only thing holding your attention as Heraysheeo spoke non-stop about his vintage album collection while asking NOT ONE QUESTION about you? Hit that boy with GNTEP and head on home, no conversation required.

Scenarios One and Two are NOT interchangeable, people. If you think you're ditching your Wittle Wove Muffin without having a couple of lengthy chats about the State of Things, then you're pretty-much a giant douchebag, and you deserve it when you find out all of your clothes have dyed baby pink and run through the office shredder before she packed them up.

By the same token, if your second date paramour rings you at 4:30 am to further discuss his fave albums from the late 80s (Spin Doctors' Pocket full of Kryptonite totally rocked my world in 1989!) on the same evening that he's been dealt Guideline Number Two Exit Phrase, you're entirely justified in glancing at your call-display and then rolling over to go back to sleep, return phone call not required.

* Those of you who know me In The Real World and would like to debate these issues are also welcome to do so in the comments section. But if you use My Real Name, your comments will be DELETED. Because... y'know... the anonymity of the Hurratios must be protected.

Rules of Interwebs Dating, Part II

I have this horrible end-of-date compulsion. (No, not that kind of compulsion, you sicko.) My compulsion is such that even when I plan to never see the person again, I continue to chirp out phrases like "yeah, we should DEFINITELY do this again!" and "okay, yeah, so give me a call and we'll hang out again soon!"

WHY DO I DO THIS?

I am not inherently the lying type. But I do like me some good manners. And I hate (HATE) hurting people's feelings. Which is goes a long way in explaining why I blurt out reassuring-but-completely-false maxims as the date is wrapping up. Of course, then I'm unjustifiably annoyed when Hyrastio rings me to see if I'd like to go to Canada's Wonderland with him next weekend (ugh... Canada's Wonderland. I would rather get myself soaking wet and shove my finger in a light socket).

Therefore, no more!

GUIDELINE NUMBER TWO
No lying to unsuitable matches:

But wait! This is not to say we need to be brutally honest. Or lengthy. If I've been on one or two dates with someone, is it really necessary to get into how he very much reminds me of my ex who, as it turns out, is gayer than Christmas? Should we be launching into hour-long soliloquies about how we could never kiss someone whose teeth jut out of their mouth like yellow weapons? Indeed, not.

So then, Internet, you may wonder what I say to these not-The-Dudes. Admittedly, it's been strikes and gutters on this issue. Sometimes I do the blurting before I can remember my allegiance to Guideline Number Two. But lately, I've been trying out the following Guideline Number Two Exit Phrase (GNTEP):

It was so nice to meet you. Have a great night/morning/afternoon. Take care!

And then... I WALK AWAY. Do you see how this phrase is both polite and final? Do you see how there's no glaring lie or encouragement to keep in touch?

I've noticed that this phrase works a lot better if I pay for my own drink/brunch/coffee - I try to insist if I'm pretty sure I'm going to use the GNTEP. Also, no fair using the GNTEP after having made out with the guy in the back of a cab for the entire length of Bloor Street. Mixed messages = unjustifiable annoyance on your part when he thinks he'll be invited into your apartment at the end of the cab ride/eating Ethiopian food with you next Saturday night/moving into your apartment in the Fall.

I know what you're thinking, Internet. You're thinking: That ProngTwo is a dating genius! The Guideline Number Two Exit Phrase could easily replace the Sermon on the Mount as the 21st Century's Creed for Dating. The Sermon on the Mount was about dating etiquette, right? Something about how fish, while a healthy choice, isn't always the best date food, and bread is all right as long as you don't eat the whole loaf? At any rate, HOORAY for the GNTEP!

Let's not get carried away, people. First of all, that's not what the Sermon on the Mount was about at all. Time to brush up on our Bible trivia, isn't it? Second, starting my own organized religion is Prong Five or maybe even Prong Six. I have a lot of prongs to get to before we get mired up in THAT business. Though I wouldn't refuse those of you who wanted to start tithing right away.

Rules of Interwebs Dating, Part I

You may think, Internet, that the world of online dating is the new Wild West. Lawlessness! Mavericks! PISTOLS AT DAWN. Or is that a British thing? Maybe I'm thinking of high-noon, which does seem more fair in terms of sun in people's eyes. ANYWAY. Screw this whole Wild West idiocy. There may not be an edition of Emily Post 2.0 (oh god, that's bad. I know, I know) but perhaps there should be? As I sally forth into the dark, nefarious world of the eDate, I'll see if I can dole out a few observations and maybe even some guidelines.

GUIDELINE NUMBER ONE
Would you say that to a person you'd just met in person? No? Then maybe don't say it on the internet:

One of the great things about online dating is that you've got free reign to contact anyone on the site. Presumably, you sign up for online dating so that you can meet new people; that's the point of being there. That reduces the Risk of Ego-Shattering Rejection by about a thousand. Before you even say 'hello', you know that this person isn't going to hit you with the I'm Married/I'm Gay/I'm actually from the planet Zoltan and don't date outside of my Zoltaniarwan Faith shtick.

However, it appears that without Risk of Ego-Shattering Rejection, a number of enthusiastic online daters feel free to blurt out anything that pops into their minds. Here are a few topics that may not be successful conversation starters:

1. The size of your... *ahem*... "endowment."
   
2. Starting the sentence with "my therapist says that..."
   
3. Discussions involving preferences in the bedroom.
   
4. Starting the sentence with "hey bitch."
   
5. A lengthy description of how intuitive your pet lemur is.
6. Compliments involving sexual organs.
7. Starting the sentence with "so... how many kids do you want to have? I like Hurratiaetta for a girl and Hurratio Jr. for a boy!"
8. ANYTHING about your ex.
   
9. etc.

Of course, these could be perfectly fine topics of conversation with someone you're already dating. At some point, one may be very keen to discuss the intuitive powers of a love interest's pet lemur for hours on end, for example. But do we want to come off as a Crazy Lemur Wingnut right off the bat? Probably not.

Instant Messaging: the down side of online dating

Hurrazzio [aged 48, from Tallahasse, FL]: Ur ass is hawt.*

*There are no photos of my ass or the vicinity of my ass in my profile.

Me : Really? That's the opening line you're going with? Ur ass is hawt?

H: Ya babe.

Me: Excellent. You're hitting it out of the park so far.

H: lol u like being spanked?

Me: We're already at the spanking portion of the chat? You're quick.

H: Thx. So do u?

Me: [logout]

OK Cupid and The Horatios*

OK Cupid claims to be the Google of online dating. When you sign up, you answer a frillion multiple-choice questions (or fewer, if you're in a rush) about your personality and lifestyle:

• Do you like to cook? [yes]
• Do think voting is important? [YES]
• How often do you watch televised lawn-bowling? [never]
• How severe is your addiction to World of Warcraft? [what?]
• Etc.

Based on your answers, OK Cupid points out people who have similar interests and who presumably will have enough in common with you that you can make it through a 1-hour coffee date.

Also, it's free. And I have Scottish ancestors.

After nearly a month on OK Cupid, I've received messages from a variety of matches. Inexplicably, seven of them have been named Horatio/Huratio/Horattio/Hporatio* (the 'p' is silent). What does this mean? Is there some sort of OK Cupid algorithm that's determined that my next boyfriend should be a Horatio? We may never know the answer.

This anomaly has prevented me from simultaneously dating several matches at once, since I would be sure to mix up Horatio with Hporatio with disastrous-if-entertaining results. Common sense dictates that you don't go on a first date with Horattio until you've determined that Huratio is unsuitable. Right?

*names have been changed to protect the anonymity of unsuspecting blog-subjects.