Her

This is the story of how I met her.

I’ve been on Meetup.com for a couple of years.  I joined a bunch of groups and received regular email updates, but I’ve scarcely put in more effort than that.  But as I’ve said, I’m determined to get out and do more things and meet new people this year.  So I took a second, more serious look.  There was a hiking group that intrigued me and I went to one of their excursions a few weeks ago.

It was my first ever Meetup.

There were half a dozen of us and I was the only guy who happened to show at this particular hike.  The odds were in my favor, but looking for a girlfriend was the furthest thing from my mind that day.  As a result, I was totally and unabashedly myself.  I kept the group entertained with my wisecracks and anecdotes.

Rebecca liked my jokes.  I thought she was cute when I first met her, but at some point during the hike we  clicked.  It was just one of those things.  Now I know what people mean when they say that.  When we came to a grove of dogwoods I plucked a flower off one of the trees and gave it to her.

“Here, this is for you,” I said, presenting it to her like the cornball I am.  She couldn’t stop grinning and stuck it into the strap of her backpack, where it remained for the rest of the hike.  We stuck together for the last mile, asking each other questions and sharing stories.

Later that day she sent me a message through Meetup telling me how much she enjoyed meeting me on the hike.  I had noticed she had posted a couple of pics on the Meetup page, so I asked if she had taken any more?  I was fishing for contact information.  Turns out  I didn’t have to try too hard.  She said she took a bunch of pictures, and if I gave her my number then she would send them to me.

I was in.

By the next day we were Facebook friends.  By the next night we were swapping flirty and sexy messages.  By the next weekend we were going on our first date.

We live some distance apart, so I drove out to her area and we went to the wildlife preserve.  Once we checked out the birds we set off on one of the trails. I took her by the hand.  We found a bench by the water and I suggested we sit.   After a few minutes of talking I pulled her in for a kiss.  We made out for a while.  It was perfect.  I remembered her saying she liked ass grabs, and she nearly straddled me after I grabbed both cheeks.  Unfortunately we had to stop when we heard other people approaching.

It started to rain right after that and we had to hustle out of the park.  We went out for burgers (my kind of girl).  Then we went to see The Jungle Book, but we saw very little of the movie as we were too busy groping and fondling each other. That was the first time I ever did dinner and a movie for a date.  It was also the first time I gave a girl an orgasm.

When we started watching the movie, she had her legs crossed and my hand was resting on her thigh.  As the lights went down I pried her legs apart.  I ran my hand along the inside of her leg, back and forth, going further and further until I was brushing against her crotch.  Eventually my hand made its way down the front of her pants and I started massaging her.  I’d rub for a little bit, then stop and just rest my hand there as she writhed about in her seat trying to muffle her cries.  Finally I kept going without stopping, going harder and faster until she came.

“Oh, fuck…” she whispered, nearly rolling over the armrest into my lap.  She grabbed my arm and bit down on my shoulder, nearly putting a hole in my shirt in the process.

After the movie we drove down and parked by the inlet.  We sat there watching the water and talking for about two hours before  calling it a night.  We’d been together for over eight hours and neither one of us wanted the day to end.  But she wanted to take it slow and not rush things.  She wanted to try, at least.

I was really attracted to her.  She was a no-frills, no makeup, what-you-see-is-what-you-get kind of girl.  Simple tastes and easily amused like myself.  We both valued nature, fitness, and keeping it real.  We had the same kind of spirit, energy and sense of humor.  We just got and understood each other.  Things were comfortable from the start.  Everything felt right and natural.  Maybe it was because we were both the same sign (our birthdays are ten days apart).  I don’t really set stock by that sort of thing, but it’s always fun to think about.

We kept talking throughout the week and we went out again the following weekend.  This time she came to my area.

And things got a little steamier.

 

First dates:  37
Second dates:  4
Third dates:  2
Cancellations:  9
Stood up:  2
First kisses: 3

So close, yet so far

First, an update. Jumping Jack Studios had a good bit of advice for me: instead of asking people out on OKC, move the conversation to the phone and then ask them out. Well, I’d already been trying to move conversations onto the phone, but now I’d make more of an effort to do so before suggesting meeting.

So here’s the rundown of the latest:

Fashion Girl 2
She initiated contact. After two weeks of messaging I asked for her number, and I got it. But when I called her she didn’t answer so I left a voicemail. She didn’t call back, but she did view my profile at least a half-dozen times in the days immediately following. And that was that.

Science Girl
She mentioned on her profile that “you should message me if you’re not embarrassed easily,” among other reasons. She was a really fun, goofy type and sounded awesome in every respect. And smoking hot, too. I dithered about for a few weeks because I wanted to approach with caution. I didn’t want to risk messing it up. Finally I came up with this and sent it to her:

“One time I went into Best Buy dressed as Napoleon Dynamite and did the whole dance in the middle of the store. With music. I’m sure that qualifies as ‘not embarrassed easily.’ Although I did have some cover with the fact that it was around Halloween. But I digress. So is that in line with the sort of thing you’re into?”

She wrote back the next day saying “this is the greatest message I’ve ever received on this site.” Yes! I was in! And then she took her profile down. FUCK.

Music Girl
Wasted two weeks with this one. I sent the first message, and while she kept writing back, she almost never asked me anything about myself in return.  I take our one-sided conversation as a lack of interest on her part. So her last message to me is languishing in my inbox and it will soon die of natural causes.

Art Girl (from previous post)
She finally returned my phone message… weeks later. Left a voicemail telling me she was really busy which was why she never got back to me. I just deleted her message. Too late. Surely you could have found 30 measly seconds during all that time.

Library Girl 2
She wrote me first. We really hit it off – we had the same wicked humor, we liked the same books and the same music, we were both outdoorsy types and liked the same nature spots in the area… it was while we were talking about nature spots that the conversation drifted to other favorite locales, and then she mentioned this coffee place she really liked. Couldn’t have asked for a better opening. I’m not really a coffee drinker, but I can pretend when a first date depends on it. We’d been talking almost three weeks by this point, so I suggested meeting AND asked for her number at the same time so we could talk on the phone first and then hash out the details. Apparently she wasn’t keen on this idea, because not only did she not respond but she took her profile down the next day. Dafuq…?

Single Mother 11
She sent me a message that she thought I was one of the most interesting, intelligent, and attractive people on the site, and wanted to get to know me. I just nodded my head in agreement. But apparently she missed the part about me not wanting kids. Sigh. What to do with this one…

Yoga Girl
I invested almost an entire month in this one. Three weeks on OKC. One week on the phone. THEN I suggested meeting. Dinner and a movie, the old cliché, but she left an opening when she told me she likes going to movies but needs someone to go with. I’d have to be a complete numbskull to miss that one. And she was totally down for it. She even told me I had voice like chocolate (whatever that meant).

There was only one problem: she completely stood me up. I never heard anything from her since.  And guess what else? She took her profile down the next day.  (For some reason that happens to me a lot.)  And this is the second time I’ve been stood up.  Five-and-a-half years on this site, and the closest I’ve gotten in all that time is getting stood up twice. Meanwhile, every time I log into WordPress and open my Reader tab I’m bombarded with posts from bloggers I follow, describing the people they’ve met and the dates they’ve gone on. Shitty dates, maybe, but at least they’re going on dates. I don’t get it.

Weirdo

I swore I would never do this again. I’ve ranted up and down and sideways about it. But reading about everybody else succeeding with it is driving me berserk.  So I’m back to online dating. Deep down I guess I always knew I’d be back; I never deleted my profile, only disabled it. Because I’m not one to quit at something, no matter how many times I fail. And all I’ve been doing is failing. I’ve been trying since May of 2008 and I have yet to meet ONE single person offline.

Do you have any idea how much of a loser that makes me feel like?

So right now meeting IRL is how I define “success” with online dating and that’s the low bar I’ve set for myself, although I still can’t pull it off.  I’ve gotten awfully close but I just keep running into the same brick wall every time: as soon as I suggest meeting, the conversation screeches to a halt and girl stops responding and drops off the face of the earth. I don’t understand – is that the wrong thing to say? I can’t imagine that it is, as I constantly hear girls complaining how guys message endlessly but never want to meet. But it doesn’t matter if I want to meet after three days or three weeks. It doesn’t matter if I come up with a plan. It doesn’t matter if she’s the one who suggested meeting in the first place.  I just can’t get it to happen.

Case in point: I reactivated my profile a few days ago and got a message from someone I’ve dubbed Passive-Aggressive Girl. We started talking and then she said, “let’s talk on the phone.”

I said, “Yes, let’s. What’s your number?”

Three weeks later and I was still waiting for it. Huh? What happened? I thought she wanted to talk? She was even making noises about meeting in person and I assumed that’s why she wanted to talk on the phone in the first place.  Finally I heard from her, out of nowhere.  By that point I’d given out my number to a couple of other girls, so at first I had no idea which one was calling me. And she didn’t want to tell me. It was like playing Clue. Finally she mentioned something I remembered from our emails.

“Aha, I know who this is,” I cried jubilantly.

“Who is this?”

“[OKC username]” Silence. “Hello?”

“How do you know?”

“Because you mentioned such-and-such and I remembered us talking about that,” I said. More silence.

“How do you remember that we talked about that? That was weeks ago. Why do you remember it?”

I rubbed my forehead. This was funny and cute at first but was quickly getting annoying. “Why? Am I not supposed to remember what we talked about?” No answer. “Sooooo… is your username your real name or what?”

“What did you say my username was?” she asked. I told her. Again. “How do you know that?”

For the love of God… “Because it’s short and simple. Am I not supposed to remember that either?”

“I don’t know,” she answered.

“So what is your name, then?” I prompted.

“I’d rather not say.”

“All righty then. This is going great,” I remarked.

“Indeed. Well, since you remember everything else, maybe you also remember what town I live in…” I actually didn’t, so I asked her and she told me.

“Oh yeah, I know where that is!”

“How do you know where that is?” she demanded. Now she was really getting on my nerves.

“Oh my God, because it’s five miles away from me. Everybody who lives here knows all the surrounding towns. It’s not like it’s hard to believe. What is it with you, anyway?”

“I just had a really long day and I’m really tired and don’t feel like talking.”

“What were you doing?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Uh, okay. So if you don’t feel like talking, then why did you call me?”

“I’m starting to wonder the same thing myself right now,” she said. “Why don’t you just talk and I’ll listen.”

“Huh??  What do you want me to talk about….?” I asked.

“I don’t care.  Anything.”

Now there was silence on my end. This was the most bizarre phone conversation I’ve had in a long time. The cogs turned in my head until I came to a resolution. She wants to be weird? Fine. I’ll give her weird. And then I’ll be done with her. So I cranked the dial up to 11 and proceeded to ramble at her for the next ten minutes about my psychic abilities, how my dead relatives have been reincarnated as forest animals, how I used to crank call Planned Parenthood and schedule fake abortions (actually that one was true…) and how sometimes I can feel the earth moving underneath me and hear the brain waves bouncing off the inside of my skull. And all throughout she didn’t make a peep. Finally I stopped dishing out my crazy talk and asked her what she thought.

“I don’t know what to think right now,” came the reply. “I don’t really like anything about you. I don’t like your voice, I don’t like your accent, I don’t like your laugh – I have a whole list of things I don’t like about you.”

“Oho! Like what else?” I inquired.

“I’d rather not say.”

“Come on, you can tell me anything. I don’t get offended.”

“Well, then, that’s your problem.”

“So I guess I won’t be hearing from you anymore then?” I posited.

“No, probably not. Good night.”

“Good night.” And we pretty much hung up on each other. And then I took a bow. You’re welcome.

***

Next up: Library Girl. Found her during one of my searches. She mentioned on her profile that she’d be open to book suggestions so I gave her one, along with a story about why I recommended that particular one. I also wasn’t familiar with her job title at the library, so I asked her what it entailed. Her response:

“That’s quite the anecdote 🙂 I think books are wonderful, but that didn’t lead me to librarianship! I got my training mostly in archival studies…trying to make important information last essentially forever. Your profile really amused me…you seem very creative and artistically inclined! My name is [codename]. I’d be happy to tell you more about what I do. I love it so it’s exciting for me when someone is interested.”

Um… okay? So if she’d be happy to tell me, then why didn’t she? The only theory I could come up with was that she was leaving me an opening. So I took it.

“Hmm. Well perhaps we should get together sometime and you can tell me all about it…” And I deliberately left it hanging. According to her match answers she was “willing to meet right away if their profile was cool”.  I didn’t think I was being too forward.  But nothing happened.  So I waited a week and dropped another line: “I still would like to hear more about what you do, and you said you’d be happy to tell me, but you haven’t told me about it yet. How do you want to go about this?” Still no response. I don’t know, maybe I missed something.  Looking back I guess I should have come up with a plan.  Live and learn.

***

Next up: Burger Girl. Another library girl. Yet another in a long list of brunettes (I’m starting to notice a pattern). We hit it off immediately. I have a fun goofy profile because I’m a fun goofy person and want to meet other fun goofy people. Her profile fit the bill perfectly. We started writing each other page-long emails. She told me how much she loved burgers. I told her how much I loved that she loved burgers, because there were way too many goddamn vegans and vegetarians on the site. (And there really is, it’s so annoying). And I couldn’t have asked for a better opening. I proposed a burger outing. Suggested a time and date and place.

“I was going to babble, but saw something about [burger place] and had to stop myself from screeching with excitement. Their burgers are delicious. Your arteries might hate you, but they will forgive you after you reach enlightenment. (They are also quite generous with the fries.) I work part time, so my schedule varies. I also don’t know how free I’ll be this week; I’m working on a charity event so I’ll be busy right through this weekend. I’m sorry!”

Hmm. Bit of an odd response. I noticed she didn’t make any suggestions in return. Perhaps she wasn’t that interested in meeting after all? I decided not to press the point and asked her about her charity instead. And our hilarious back-and-forth continued. About ten days later I decided to raise the issue again:

“Sooo… I don’t want to be pushy but I imagine you have a bit more free time nowadays now that the charity event is over. I’ve been wondering whether we can meet at some point…”

“You aren’t being pushy at all. I don’t see why we can’t try to hang out and not kill each other,” she wrote back. “What did you have in mind?” I gave her the where/when again. She responded with:  “I potentially have plans Sunday but nothing is set in stone. In the event Sunday doesn’t work, I should be available on Monday. My schedule is wonky this week (I think I switched a shift somewhere?) but if Sunday and Monday don’t work I will try to keep you posted on what all is going on with my life.”

And that was the last I heard from her. She hasn’t even logged back into the site since. Back to the drawing board.

***

I took a break from the site for a couple of weeks, and then I decided to take a page out of Chin Up, Chest High’s playbook.  I made another round of profile tweaks and uploaded a new picture. I rotate a new one in every couple of months, and this one finally did the trick:

stats

The response was immediate and overwhelming. I received dozens of visitors over the next 24 hours. Girls who had stopped writing me started writing again. Messages I’d written to new girls a month prior were suddenly being responded to. By the next day I was carrying on conversations with eight different people. I was bursting with excitement. Finally! This is the response I’d been waiting for! This is the response I deserved.

But within 48 hours, every single one of those girls stopped responding. One flick of a giant switch, one flip of a giant coin, and everything was over. But the visitors kept coming, from all over New England: Connecticut, Massachusetts, Maine… even from places as far away as Ohio and Oklahoma. Iit was crazy. And I had plenty of new messages to replace the ones that died. Here’s a sampling:

***

Blondie:  “Hey, nice pic ;)” I exchanged a slew of messages with her – a pretty little blonde chick – but as soon as I gave her my number and suggested we talk on the phone, she disappeared. Another one down.

***

Bikini Chick: I came across a chick who wrote on her profile that she didn’t understand why she was getting so many visitors. So I wrote to her explaining that it was because of her main pic. A rather salacious one, at that.

Me: “It’s because of your main pic. Or because you’re new to the site. Or both. But definitely because of your pic.”
Her: “Thanks… that was a bit flattering… now what exactly what do u do?”
Me: “[job title and how I ended up doing that] What about you?”
Her: “I do risk management strategy for a bank…”
Me: “Aha. So is this what you see yourself doing or is this just a temporary stop on the career train? What path led you to your current employment?”  (a bit stiff and formal, yes).
Her: “Ah, too many questions! Lol, it’s a good job, not my passion though. So when do we speak on the phone?”

Me:  Yes! “Whenever you’d like to. xxx-xxx-xxxx. Give me a call sometime.”

She never did.

***

CT girl: “Yours is by far the most entertaining profile I have ever read. I actually almost spit my drink out when I read the caption to your photo. Kudos.”

Thanks. Too bad you’re too far away.

***

Art Girl: One of her match answers showed up in my news feed, so I messaged her about it. We somehow ended up on the subject of phones and how kids these days always text instead of calling.

Her: “Yes it’s true that they don’t call people. I wish calling were more common these days. I do call a handful of people on a regular to once-in-a-while basis. Xxx-xxx-xxxx. Curious as to whether you’ll call or text. ;)”

So I called her a day later, but when she answered the phone she told me was really busy and couldn’t talk and asked me to call her back another time. Didn’t say when, so I tried a couple different times over the next couple of days. She didn’t answer again and didn’t return my message. Another possibility crumbled into dirt.

***

Teacher Girl 3: I stumbled across her profile and she was a 90% match, plus I saw something that excited me until I realized I simply misread it. Undeterred I decided to message her anyway.

Me: “For a minute I thought you said “teaching dance” and got all excited. But then I reread it and it appears you teach something else… Elementary?”

Her: “Well I could teach dance 😉 I’m pretty good at it haha yes I teach pre-k. My name is ____, nice to meet you.”

Me: “Aha… but you haven’t actually met me yet. Would you like to?” (I wasn’t particularly interested in her, but I figured I’d suss out whether I was wasting my time or not).

Her: “What are you seeking?

Me: “I am seeking someone willing to meet offline to conversate and get to know each other. And then see what happens from there.  Unless you meant, what am I seeking? In that case, I seek the Grail. I am Arthur, King of the Britons. I have traveled here with my Knights of the Round Table. Will you join us in our quest? We have no horses – only coconuts which we bangeth together… What is that you’re seeking?”

Although she visited my profile a bunch of times afterwards, there was no reply. Guess she didn’t care for my sense of humor.

***

Fashion Girl: “omg I love your profile it’s like the best thing I’ve ever read. We should definitely talk more.”

Me: “Offline, perhaps?”

Her: “Sure! You can text me xxx-xxx-xxxx”

Me: “You’ll hear from me soon…”

I texted her the next day, but no response.  Oh well.

***

Anyway, you get the idea.  Nothing to do but keep at it, I suppose.

It don’t mean a thing…

‘Twas time for swing dancing!  It’s been a while since I’d gone, and a while since I’d been out of the house, so I killed two birds with one stone tonight.  This time I arrived early and derived the benefits of the half-hour lesson that starts the evening (I missed it last time).  I learned some new steps and brushed up on the old ones.  I wasn’t worried about losing anything during my long absence; I spend most nights sliding around my house in my socks and underwear like Tom Cruise in Risky Business.  You know – practice.

Swing dancing is great  I finally get to dance with girls, and they actually seem to enjoy dancing with me!  Awesome.  Not only that, but the people there are all so friendly and outgoing and approachable.  It’s almost unnerving.  I’m not used to that.  Maybe I’ve unwittingly stumbled across a cult…  But what’s nice about swing dancing is that you can ask pretty much anyone there to dance and nobody turns you down.  You get a turn with everybody in the room.

Once again were a few young lovelies in attendance, some I recognized from last time and some new faces as well.  I took a few spins around the dance floor with each of them, which was great.  I was really getting into the “swing” of things.  They also play an occasional non-swing dance tune throughout the night, which mixes things up nicely.  I was in the middle of dancing with this real pretty girl when a waltz came on.  Ho, boy!  I may not know how to really swing yet, but I sure as hell know how to waltz.  However, the girl I was with didn’t.

“It’s easy,” I told her, putting one arm around her and holding up her other arm.  “Just follow my lead…” And away we went!  In fact, all the couples formed up into one ring encircling the entire dance floor.  It was awesome.  Probably the closest I’ll get to being in a Viennese Ball.  But what I wouldn’t give to find someone I could do this with all the time.

The girl in my arms sighed contentedly at the end of the dance.  “You’ll have to show me how to waltz sometime,” she said.  “I just wish my boyfriend could dance like that…”

Boyfriend.  Of course.

But whatever.  Tonight was easily the most fun I’ve had in some time.

She wears an itsy-bitsy teeny-weeny yellow polka-dot bikini

I don’t understand why people on the checkout line always have to be right up my ass with their purchases.  Nudging me with their shopping carts.  Breathing on the back of my neck.  And as soon as one measly square inch of space opens up on the conveyor belt they rush to start piling on as many things as they can, vertically if they have to until it resembles a Jenga tower.

Really?  Is that somehow going to get you out of the store faster?  You do know there are still two people in front of you on line and you’re still going to have to stand here for six more minutes until they’re finished, right?  Sigh.  These are probably the same people that are burning rubber out of the parking lot because they’re in a big rush to get to the red light.

Assholes.

So I was at the store tonight, and sure enough I could sense somebody shifting back and forth behind me, and out of my peripheral vision I could see someone peeping around me.  Finally there came a nudge in my back.  I turned around.

“Hey, do you mind if I cut in front of you?  I’ve only got this one thing…” this girl asked me.  She held up her hand and dangling from her finger was a hanger with the tiniest bikini I’d ever seen.  And she had the body to wear it.  Wow.  Holy crap.  My jaw dropped open, and I think my eyes might have bugged out of my head a little.

“Uh… yeah, sure.  Go right ahead!” I finally squeaked out.

She laughed and put a hand on my upper arm.  “Oh no, I’m not really in a hurry!  I just wanted to see what you were going to say.  I thought you were going to give me a dirty look or something.”

My brain whirred frantically, struggling to produce a witty response.  I came up with: “Well, I might have given you a dirty look if it was a Monday or something…”  Huh!?  What the hell does that even mean??  However, she thought it was funny.  Strangely enough.

The line was at a standstill at this point, so she looked over and muttered to me, “My God, what is the hold up?”

“Who knows?” I said.  “Maybe they ran out of quarters or something.”

“Ha!  Don’t say that!  You don’t want to jinx us…” she told me.

“Well, usually when I’m on a non-moving line like this it’s because there’s an old lady at the front who’s rummaging in a purse the size of a potato sack trying to find a nickel or her 15% off Rice-A-Roni coupon,” I said.  She thought that was hilarious, and she started gripping my forearm instead.  By this point she wasn’t standing behind me anymore; she was right next to me. Huh?

Finally the line started moving again, and guess what happened when I got to the register?  No quarters.  So I had to stand there and wait for someone to bring them over so I could get my change.  Bikini Girl and I laughed about that, then we bade each other smiley good-nights and I walked out of the store in a daze.

As soon as I was outside on the sidewalk the fresh air hit me and I stopped in my tracks.  I stared unseeing at the parking lot in front of me.  I felt my brain running in overdrive.  That was one of the most bizarre things that’s happened to me in a long time.  What the hell just happened?  What was that all about?  Was she… hitting on me?  Is that possible?  Nah, that’s impossible.  Girls who look like that… don’t even talk to guys like me, let alone hit on them.  Or do they…? 

Nobody else had come out of the store yet, so I turned around and went right back in.  She was gone.  Completely went ghost on me.  Whoa.  I still have no idea what I was going to do or say when I found her, but she was nowhere to be found.  Dammit.  I turned back around and trudged out of the store, my heart hammering wildly in my chest.

Ughhhhhh….

Please tell me that I’m just reading way too much into this, as usual.  Please tell me I didn’t just miss the opportunity of a lifetime.

Getting into the Habitat

This weekend I continued my efforts to get off the computer and back into the real world to meet new people.  After tackling swing dancing (which I can’t wait to get back to), I spent today doing something else I’ve long wanted to do: volunteer with Habitat for Humanity.  And it wasn’t just any old volunteer project, it was a wall-raising!  Yes!  Exactly what I wanted to do.

Last month they were sponsoring a Valentine’s Day build for young single professionals, held on the weekend before V-Day, but a monster blizzard forced them to reschedule it for two weeks later.  Unfortunately I couldn’t make the new date.  Oh well.  That would have been perfect for me though – just what I was looking for.  But no matter.

When I arrived at the build site this morning it was pretty much what I expected: mostly middle-aged men with beer guts.  However, there were a few people my age there as well – including a couple of girls – and I introduced myself all around.  Turns out I wasn’t the only person there for the first time.

When I came around to the girls I looked the first one up and down:  designer jeans, overcoat, hat, scarf, nail polish, heels

“You’re a little overdressed for this, aren’t you?” I inquired.

“Oh, I’m just here to see my boyfriend off.”

Boyfriend.  Of course.  And moments later I saw her turn to one of the guys and give him a big sloppy kiss before she flounced away.  I just shook my head.  See him off?  You’d think they were two lovers saying goodbye at the train station before he goes off to war.  I thought it was a little odd, but maybe it’s just me.

Anyway, the head honchos from Habitat were there and before we started work they spoke to us and gave their little spiel about what the organization does and how it works, and then they introduced us to the family whose house it was going to be, and told us that the family would in fact be working alongside us today.  Cool beans.

I found myself occasionally working alongside the other girl that was there and we exchanged a bit of small talk now and then.  At one point I happened to glance behind me.  Whoa.  I leaned my head in towards hers and said, “whatever you do, don’t turn around.”

“Huh?  Why – ?” she asked, turning around.  “Oh God…”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” I said.  “Some people here are suffering from PACS.”

“PACS?” she shot me a quizzical look.

“Plumber’s Ass-Crack Syndrome,” I replied simply.  She burst out laughing.  I grinned.  “Either that or they all bought their pants at The Gap,” I continued.  Now she was in a full-on fit of hysterical giggling.  Geez.  I didn’t think it was that funny.

Later on we met again at another part of the house and I asked, “did you say this was your first time volunteering?”

“No,” she said, “I’ve worked with Habitat three or four times before.  I’d like to get my boyfriend to come with me but he’s always busy.”

Boyfriend.  Of course.

So after that I was able to relax once I found out she wasn’t single.  I always find it much easier to talk to girls then.  But never mind that – today I was more interested in the work we were doing for this family.  In between our short chats and banter I also got to work alongside some of the other men, including the foreman and the various family members who were helping us erect their house.  It was very interesting talking to each person and finding out how they got involved in Habitat.

Then before I knew it, we had the whole frame of the house up.  And then everybody was gone.  I couldn’t believe how fast the day went.  But what a great feeling!  I can’t wait to do this again.

Swingers

The long wait was finally over.  I’d wanted to try this for eons.  It wasn’t until tonight that I finally took the plunge and experienced it for the first time.

I approached the venue with trepidation, worried about the possibility of spending an evening cooped up with a crowd more akin to Bingo Night.  But alas!  Upon my entrance I immediately noticed a number of lovely young ladies.  I eyed them hungrily from opposite the room.  I was a lion on the hunt, a tiger lying in wait, a tomcat on the prowl.

Meow.

They held this shindig every week, devoting the first thirty minutes to acquainting everyone with their limbs and different positions to try. I paired up with one of the older, more seasoned ladies.  She grinned at me.

“So.  Did your friends drag you here or what?”  No.  I assured her I came of my own volition.  She nodded, apparently satisfied.  She took hold of me and told me where to place my feet.  I obeyed, not willing to quarrel with a more experienced woman.

Before long we settled into a routine and found each other’s rhythm.

“You’re really good at this!” she gasped at one point, clearly impressed with my abilities.

“What can I say?” I sighed, adopting my best aw-shucks persona.  “I guess I’m a fast learner.”

“Well, keep it up!  The better you are at this, the more girls will like you.”  I barely stopped myself from rolling my eyes.  I had been doing this by myself ever since I was a teenager, but I’d never seen firsthand proof that girls liked it too.  I supposed it was true.

After a short while the organizers called out for everyone to stop.  It was time for the real party to begin!  They dimmed the lights, put on some music and served drinks to help us get in the mood.  We were encouraged to switch partners constantly – regardless of whether we were finished – with the ultimate goal of taking turns with everybody in the room.

This is it, I told myself.  Time for my big debut.  Don’t be nervous…

I spent the first part of the night with a few more older women until I finally relaxed enough to take a turn with some of the girls around my age.  The first girl was okay looking, but she exhaled a scent like moldy cheese.  Ugh.  I didn’t last long with her; I couldn’t take her heavy breathing in my face any more.  The second one was really pretty, but she was there with someone and I felt really self-conscious with him watching.

Then I saw the next girl and my eyes nearly fell out of my head.  Wowshe’s really fit.  What a body!  I took a deep breath, put an arm around her and pulled her into me, and then we started to move.  Oh my God, this feels so good!  This is what I’ve been missing out on?  Why didn’t I try this sooner!?

I wasn’t expecting much conversation, but she wanted to talk.  I did the best I could, as I was trying to stay focused and concentrated on what I was doing.

“Is this your first time?” she asked.  Ha.  There was obviously no fooling her.

“Yeah… definitely my first time,” I said.  No worries, though.  She was very supportive and encouraging, and before I knew it I had found my mojo and we were really going at it.  It was even better than before!  I was positively bursting with excitement.  I heard singing in my head:  “Heaven… I’m in heaven… and my heart beats so that I can hardly speak… and I seem to find the happiness I seek…”

Then she went and burst my bubble.  “I usually come here with my boyfriend but he couldn’t make it this week…”  Ugh.  Way to spoil the moment.  But I got over it.  There were other ladies during the night, but none were as fine as she.  No matter.  I’m definitely going back there again.  This is just the kind of thing I’ve been looking for.

I really like swing dancing.

Chick

In 1961, John Howard Griffin posed as a black man and travelled through the segregated South, and published his experiences in a book titled Black Like Me. In 1997, Shawn Hunter posed as a girl in Boy Meets World and his experiences were turned into a column in the school’s newspaper titled “Chick Like Me.” And now, in 2013, I’ve decided to pose as a chick on an online dating site. Half of the girls on dating sites spend half of their profiles complaining about the messages they receive.  I wanted to find out exactly what they were experiencing.

First, I grabbed a couple of sexy girl pics off Google Images.  Next, I wrote a profile compiling every overused cliché I’d ever seen.  Then I posted it all online and sat back and waited.

The response was immediate and overwhelming.  Within the first 24 hours I received almost 250 visitors and 100 messages.  In the week since I’ve received another 400 visitors and 80 messages.  Wow.  And the messages were all pretty much like this:

“hey”  Hey what…?

“what’s up?”  Really?  That’s all you have to say?

“hey, my name is Mike”  Is it me or is every guy named “Mike”?

“you wanna go grab a drink sometime?”  Wow.  In the very first email.  Talk about getting right down to business without preamble.

“how was your weekend?”  In response to the fiftieth guy who wrote this, I replied:  “It wasn’t so good actually – I just found out my grandpa’s in the hospital after he fell off his toilet trying to change a light bulb”.  When the same guy wrote back to find out how “grandpa” was I told him he had died.  “Oh I’m sorry to hear that babe… so you wanna grab a drink sometime?”

“got any plans for today?”  Yes – waiting for better messages.

“so what brings you to this site?”  I’ll give you three guesses.

“hey, nice to meet you!”  Uh, you haven’t met me yet, dumbass.

“nice pics!”  I know.  😉

“im sure you get this all the time but your beautiful”  Wonderful!  Really original.

“if u wanna chat sometime msg me back”  Oho, is that what I have to do?  Thanks!  I had no idea how this worked…

“can you tell me a little more about yourself?”  Hm.  I guess you didn’t/can’t read my profile.

“whats ur name”  That was the opening line in my self-summary.  Fail.

“so hows the whole online dating thing treating ya?”  Oh, if you only knew…

The list goes on.  You get the idea.  I don’t think I’ve gotten one intelligent message.  If I had it’s certainly lost in the crowd.  Probably what my problem is when I send messages.  It’s very eye-opening seeing what I’m up against, seeing what it’s like from a girl’s perspective.  I really have to step up my game here.  But it’s unbelievable what tools these guys are.  Are they really surprised when they get no response?  And at first I wasn’t going to message anyone back (as a joke) but I just had to mess with some of them.  I wanted to see what I could say that would turn these guys off.

Nothing, apparently.  One guy messaged me asking if I was in the same part of the city as him.  I happened to know that was a heavily Jewish area, so I wrote back: “aren’t there a lot of Jews there? I don’t really like Jews LOL – are you Jewish?”

His response?  “lmao baby no I’m not jewish no worries it’s all good.  I don’t like them either.  so you wanna grab a drink sometime?”  *facepalm*  If I said I liked to murder black babies and drink their blood, they’d still be trying to get in “my” pants.  After the first day I just stopped responding.  There was no way to keep up with the volume flowing into my inbox.

Maybe online dating just attracts these types.  I’ve already fielded requests from guys wanting to have discreet affairs, or inviting me to swinger parties.  Naturally, I wrote them back asking for details.  And I got them.  Boy, did I get them…