My misadventures on display for all to read.

Dating Chronicles 7: DJ Matt and My Left Breast

Not so handsy, there goes the hands. Source: Built by CatholicGelt

Final online dating post from previous expeditions.

I write you from a dwindling state of tipsiness and a break from How About We. I pulled a temporary plug on the dating website because I wasn't having much fun seeing the same odd profiles over and over again. Really, you dudes need to make your profile photo a pair of shoes, a banana, or an 85 year young woman? Siphoning through profiles felt stale and I swear I began seeing people from the site while walking around town. After the two month hiatus, I decided I would give it one more go.

Matt listed Muppet Treasure Island as his most watched movie so why not see if he were a muppet or a man? Back to the pool hall we went. Matt shared that he volunteers as a DJ for a local radio station while tending bar at a BBQ joint in my neighborhood. We spoke casually and he did not insist on teaching me how to play pool by grabbing my hand or hip. Already bonus points given my previous experience. I played a measly first game and managed to yell, "I love not getting balls in holes!" On any other night, this would have been accompanied by a "that's what she said" but I looked down and noticed my left breast hanging out of my bra. 

You see, I wore tight jeans and a decorative white top, but didn't realize that when I was bending over to shoot pool, my left breast kept falling out of my bra. Freeing itself from its cloth cage and creating a third middle breast. Who needs twins when you can have triplets! I was horrified. Every few minutes, I would walk over to the wall, sip some Magners and adjust myself in what I would like to call the nip and tuck. Sink the nine ball. "Oh, you graduated with a degree in journalism. I studied English down south." Look down. Nip and tuck. Prematurely sink the eight ball. "What did you think of Seattle when you visited?" Look down. Nip and tuck. Note to self, Victoria sucks at keeping a Secret.

Surprisingly, I don't think Matt realized what was going on because he seemed pretty focused on the game. After our third round, we sat down for a few minutes to finish our drinks. At this point, I saw Matt blatantly staring at my triplets and I decided to throw on my fleece. We finished up our date and before parting ways, he asked me on a second date. Go figure.


I love a good story so don't be shy. Send me your embarrassing dates.

With that, I wish you a happy New Year. May it be not be a total bust!

Dating Chronicle 6 - Life Out of Order

Dapper fellow. Source: Built by CatholicGelt

This week, I visited friends in Houston and on my return home, saw a gorgeous speciMAN. I really wanted to ask him out but was too afraid of being a creep, invasive, or <insert any other word that involves asking a stranger on a plane, train, or bus out on a date>. While completing my oral hygiene cycle (you must floss, brush, and rinse for you only get one mouth), I decide to post my affection online. I wrote a Craigslist Missed Connections.

For those keeping track, I will post Dating Chronicle 5 shortly and take you back to when a new date got a little more than he bargained for while out on the town with me. In the meantime, I will share any squirmy, delicious, or absurd responses I get from Craigslist. Here's to being slightly uncomfortable, and totally out there. And wondering why I used the word delicious.

Waiting to hear from my Craigslist cupid.

Dating Chronicles 4 - Normal in Chicago

Jefe, neither balding nor a bowling pirate. Source: Built by CatholicGelt

A few of you made a bet that I would meet a nice guy in Chicago. I'm not one to drag things out so I will just cut to the chase: I had a nice hard apple cider and a three hour conversation with Jefe, a car crash survivor. The normal men I meet are naturally men who overcome great tragedies. It's truly applicable to all the other "normal" in my life. 

Jefe recently moved back to Chicago from NC, by way of Atlanta. He attended Wake Forest where he earned his degrees in accounting. His date idea: Go to the Art Institute and do some of the crafts for kids? Last time I was there they were making hats and I really wanted one! Seriously, is this guy for real? He loves the Talking Heads, has seen David Byrne in concert and thinks Naive Melody is their best song. For real! We walked around the Navy Pier instead since the museum had closed for the day. 

Before we began anything, he escorted me over to an area where a DJ played hip hop music for seven year olds. This had thoroughly entertained Jefe while I was running late and he insisted on showing me. I almost asked if he wanted to dance, but I didn't have the frijoles to do so. I immediately told him I was visiting Chicago to attend classes at Second City and to go to a music festival with friends (yeah, BWS). I can't have men hopelessly falling in love with me and soon finding out that I have ditched them for another city.

Then I noticed that he had a tracheotomy. Using what little filter I have, I did not point it out or stare at it (you are welcome, Enforcer). He ended up talking about how he basically spent the last two years recovering from a car accident where no one else was involved. He had lain in a coma for two weeks, not able to remember how he drove into a tree. When his mother visited him in the hospital, his first smile came from her offer to get Jefe a dog. He started tearing up while telling the story. Or, it was the result of his gin and tonics. I can't really be sure. We talked about movies, music, his next career move and books. He reads. What? Yes, I said he reads. Although amazing male authors abound, I often forget that men read. It's ridiculous and I am not sure where it comes from since I have a degree in English and my advisor was (still is) male. Oh, me!

After about three hours, I told him I had to go home to have dinner. I couldn't think of other questions to ask and he had already ordered two drinks and kept covering his face with his hands when I would tell him something funny or shocking. He said he had a nice time and we hugged one another goodbye. Of course, a man that doesn't make moaning sounds when slamming his body into mine lives in the mid-west. Of course! And I was referring to a hug. You are better than that, my people!

Dating Chronicles - Commentary

I have learned that a date can go one of two ways: well guided or completely off course. This aligns fairly well with how I tend to dance. 

My undiagnosed boogie down syndrome.

Despite my tendencies for graceful chaos, I still have friends who particularly enjoy supplying me with their two cents. What are friends for if but not a lovingly honest and supportive peanut gallery? Allow me to share with you the dating commentary my friends so willingly bestowed upon me.

Well, dear friend, I’m just glad that you’re out there and experimenting.
— My Mentor
CatholicGelt is right to not take up all the offers - I personally saw the choices out there and many are less than appealing. Good luck with the next one CatholicGelt!
— Baby Mama in Auburn
You made me laugh at “looks like one of my Russian relatives.” Don’t hate on your “kind”, You may just find your soulmate in the face of your 80-year old uncle.

Although I am a bad friend for reading these more than 24-hours after-the-fact, I am quite thrilled with the continuous updates. Before long, you’ll be one of those girls where I can’t keep all her “boy toys” straight.
— Swedish Lief
Like Swedish Lief, I am behind on reading the updates. But I do agree that posting 56 dates may be a sign of desperation. Or instead, it could be a sign of someone who “lives” on sites like How About We and Facebook. Hmm, that reminds me of your own self-description, CatholicGelt: “Facebook is my home.”

Maybe the 56 date guy deserves another chance, then?
— A Woman Betrothed
This is amazing!! Keep up the updates!

At least you don’t yet have a story like mine...where the quadriplegic guy told me that he lowered his standards after his accident and now he is open to dating girls who looked like me instead of only dating model-types! Classic!

We should combine forces to write a book on dating experiences when all of this is said and done!

It’s a jungle out there! You are in my prayers!
— The Girl with the Dragon Fire Hair

Dating Chronicles 2 - The Man With Flu Too Much

Update on Fang

Between pool and BBQ, he whispered, "I have a confession: I smoke. You don't smoke, right?" Right! I couldn't say anything at the time, but I checked his profile after the date and it read, "Never" under smoking. Since he had expressed interest in another date and smoking is a deal breaker for me, I wrote rather than ignore him: 

Hey, It was nice meeting you. However, it was a red flag to me that your profile says you don't smoke and you do. I would suggest updating that fact so that women aren't misled. Otherwise, I wish you the best in the dating scene.

Too candid? I blame you all. You have unleashed me into this dating Middle-earth.

Slim, the IKEAn't Dad. Source: Built by CatholicGelt

Today I was supposed to have a second date with Slim, "an awesome father" and claims to have the following obscure knowledge: I can cook, fix, or build just about anything. Except maybe furniture from Ikea. Isn't IKEA furniture supposedly the simplest furniture to manufacture in house? It's the disassembling that makes IKEA a sinister pack of SOBs. Jim responded: How about we… fill two flasks and then hit up the Boston Harbor Islands. However, I cancelled last night because I wasn't feeling so hot today.

I have another date tomorrow, with another father, or as you would know him, the Man With Flu Too Much, as in he cancelled last Monday because he had the flu. I thought it was a line he pulled because he lost interest. To my surprise, he followed up and rescheduled. I'll be wearing a skirt because we are going with a more traditional dinner and drinks theme. 

I have had roughly ten guys show interest, particularly those dates that involve alcohol. I haven't accepted all the date offers for a few reasons:

  • Shallowness
    • insert unibrows
  • Psychosis
    • posting 56 dates = desperation?
  • Abnormalities/Creepy
    • 37 year old man who wants to be a marshmallow peep. And no, you did not misread that
    • because he looks like one of my Russian relatives
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