Chat Sex Invites: a new twist on impersonal internet interactions

Below is an actual chat that a guy initiated with me on okcupid. Unfortunately, this happens all the time. This one gets good in the end…no pun intended!

The charming treasure’s writing is in regular letters and my response in italics. Let me know if you can determine where it goes awry.

Him: hi sexy. wanna play?

Me: Play what?

play with each other…

Via chat?

no. get together now and play till sun is up.

You play, I’ll watch…from here

i do not playing alone.

like*

I was going to ask if you had an accent

where are you?

On my couch and you?

where in brooklyn are you?

Williamsburg

i am in the village. alone. are we gonna spend the night together or no?

whats your phone number?

what’s your name?

Nope. That’s not how I operate.

well, i am not gonna marry you.

sorry…

I’m Hailey and I require a date first

and then?

I’m not here for sex, I can get laid without a site like this

I’m here for something more, which sex is obviously a part of

But not all

i am too busy and i like smelling different flowers.

Ok. Smell away…enjoy, later.

well, good luck finding a husband.

Never said Im looking for a husband, d-bag

i do not want a relationship but i do want to bite you.

I want a relationship and I don’t like pain mixed in with my pleasure…exactly! Bite Me!

well, i know you are horny.

im not…

ohhh. and whats the deal here?

elaborate?

you like anal sex?

do you like guys shoving things up your ass? ponder that and please dont contact me ever again.

That’s How I Knew This Story Would Break My Heart-Aimee Mann

Back To Hell-Alkaline Trio

Torture, Manipulation, Solitude and Neurosis…Bob

This experience that I’m going to tell you about could have several names. I toyed with, “As Creepy as it Gets”, “The Biggest Loser”, “What About Bob???”, “You’re a Scary Freak-show and I Can’t Believe I Still Slept With You…3 Times”,  but I settled on “Torture, Manipulation, Solitude and Neurosis…Bob”.

Shortly after I moved to Brooklyn, about a year and a half ago, I met the most interesting “subject” of my recent dating history…perhaps ever. In the interest of saving this charming man’s identity, and of not ruining his chances to get laid ever again, we can just call him “Bob”, which is his name. I will fight every urge to type his last name here, because, it’s that bad, not the name…the story.

I met Bob when I was singing a bit of back-ups for my friend’s band. He started up a conversation with me and I soon realized that he knew my friend and came to all of her shows, hiding in the back, as he explained. This seemed strange, but he was interesting and cute enough, so I kept chatting. Let me rush this part to get to the outrageously bizarre part. He liked me, I liked him, we exchanged #’s. I learned from our mutual friend that he stands in the back because of an ego maniacal, manipulative, explosive incident that he once caused, leaving them not on the best terms…intriguing.

So, we set up a date, that takes three weeks of him texting, my response, him ignoring, me texting, me texting, him ignoring, him texting…etc (I’ve been involved in this combo many a time and I don’t give up from a bit of, me texting, me texting , me texting. It takes much more). We meet at his place, a converted fire house in queens.  Before we went out he explained why he has nothing on his walls and things still in boxes. It’s too permanent for him to hang things on the wall. The bare walls represent a freedom. He basically screams “no commitment” but I ignore it.

This may be a long description that I’m about to embark on, but these details are too good to deprive you.

We go to a bar, eat, drink, good conversation. I go back to his converted fire house with the bare walls. I sit in the couch (pretty much the only furniture in the large room) he turns off the lights and tells me he wants to show me a film he made. He projects it on one of the large bare walls. The movie starts, I wait for him to sit next to me, he doesn’t. The movie begins as a silent normal film, but then it cuts to a man hog tied, naked, being beaten. I look out of the corner of my eye to see if I can see him standing there, but he has moved back into the dark of the room, out of my sight. The movie cuts back from normal to the torture and back again. The sounds are terrifying and the images disturbing. I contemplate getting up and leaving, but I dont. The torture escalates and the man’s “captures” are now shoving a large tube up this mans bloody ass…I cringe. What have I gotten myself into! The final scene has the tortured man paying his “captures” and thanking them. I realize the tortured man is played by Bob, himself.  So, now the fun begins!  He slides up next to me, asking me what I think. What a freak! This man just made me watch a movie he made, in the creepiest manner, starring him, a man who would rather be anally raped than live the boring monotony of his mundane life (the meaning of his movie) and he wants to know what I thought? Yes, I slept with him after that….I guess it takes more than that to scare me off!

Second date with Bob:

Don’t judge me, I’m a glutton. I invite him over, nice meal, good conversation, but the date is dragging on and on, nearing 1:30 am and I start to wonder if he’s attracted to me (the  guy that prefers hoses up his ass? yes, Im wondering if HE likes ME). Then he starts telling me about his past relationships. How he ended a 3 year relationship by getting out of the cab in Vegas at a red light and never speaking to her again. Then he starts telling me this detailed story about how he once met this girl, thought he liked her, slept with her and then she wanted to hang out again and he did too, but he  wasnt attracted to her and just wanted to be friends. He said that she was really cool so in order to show her that they could be friends and not fool around, he set up a date with her to show her. He seemed to think he could manipulate the situation and the girl, to keep her friendship by justing hanging out with her and not tell her his intentions…at this point, I start wondering “is he talking about me?”. He’s going on and on about setting up this elaborate plan to get her to realize they can just be friends, and Im getting so pissed off that he has the balls to tell me this way, my heart beating faster and faster. I ask him why he wouldn’t just tell her and he says that then she might not realize that it could be possible. I ask, “isn’t that cruel and manipulative and deceitful if she’s attracted to you and you slept with her the last time and you just drag the date on and on without telling her that you are not attracted to her sexually while she thinks you are, and not give her the choice to want to be your friend or not once you tell her?” snip in my tone.He just keeps going on…finally, I say “are you talking about me?”…He gets really embarrassed, realizing how I would think that and denying it. He also added “now if I sleep with you, you will think it’s just because I’m making sure you don’t think I was talking about you”. Um no, I would be thinking “I can’t believe I had to listen to your dysfunctional fucked up ideas on how you relate to, manipulate and  treat women, instead of this crappy sex you’re giving me now”, which is what happened when we did.

Yes, there was a third and fourth date, both dumb and creepy and then his creepiness was no longer mysterious and just creepy. I gave up on Bob, but am so thankful for this awesome material and wish the creepy freak lots of luck being alone with his bare walls, sore anus and fear of living

Violet-Hole

The Slow Descent Into Alcoholism-New Pornographers

The Beginning of the End

Here’s how it all began, While from time to time I will throw in a few juicy stories from the “pre-online dating-olithic period”, the bulk of the most odd of the dating began November of 2009 (online-dating-olithic period proper).

For the record, I refused to join an online dating site for years. To me, it represented desperation and a kind of nakedness, that I was not comfortable.  I would also like to state, for the record, that I am not “lonely, in the biblical sense”, which is code for sex, and Im using code because my brother will be reading this I imagine. Oh well…

So, yes, I was at no loss for pure physical, meaningless, awkward, random encounters, but I craved more. I often fell for the one-nighters and wondered why it didnt work out. I remember something about cows and milk, but this couldnt apply to me.

Then my brother underwent a  quintuple bypass at 39 and I really felt the void of not having someone there for me, to sit with me while I sat up all night, solely to be my support, etc. (yes, that is part of the criteria for my imaginary dream man). I thought maybe it was some incredible wake-up call, like a Carpe Diem or Life is Short, motivation, but it was purely based on a self-absorbed need…so I joined okcupid and jdate in the same night.

Jdate quickly became a terrifying place, a harsh reminder of my Long Island jewish childhood. The majority of winks and messages came from sleazy frat boys, awkward dungeons and dragons boys, horrific normal mainstream stock market boys (yuck!), and the very best….the men my father’s age. In a panic that my next match would actually be my father, also on jdate, I escaped a week after I joined, but not before….

RAY! late 40′s cardiologist, all sweet and medical, emails me, wants to chat, I oblige although I am only interested in him to get info about my brothers condition…finally he says, after many exchanges “I don’t have a lot of time for dating, but how do you feel about sexy phone conversations?” REALLY RAY? You pay for a dating site to set up phone sex…but you wanted to screen and make sure she was a nice jewish girl?

DELETE!

So, I also joined okcupid, where the majority of my stories will be coming from. They range from Wizards with amulets, to the many penis photo’s I’ve collected,  to men who identify as a woman with Cuckold fetishes…stay tuned.

The Wanting Comes In Waves (Reprise)-The Decemberists

Talking-Annuals

Genetic Predisposition to Serial Dating

So, I’ll start here, by telling you that it is not my “fault’ that I have been serial dating for the past 4 months and have racked up all these stories. My father is also a serial dater. I can’t keep track of all his women and I can’t find a hole big enough to crawl into when he says things like “she’s really nice, a little annoying, biiggg breasts, nice body…” or “she has children so she understands me, but small tits, kind of matronly…”. These I file under, things I don’t care to know or discuss with my father…ever. Recently, my father told me that my mother, who divorced him 16 years ago, was bad in bed. File under same category. So, back to my father; he’s quite the ladies man, he once showed up at a cafe where I was working with a tall blonde. They were making googly eyes at each other, smiling, kissing and my co-worker said “Oh, is that your dad and your mom, or his girlfriend? They’re so cute” to which I replied “I’ve never seen that woman before in my life”. I started greeting all the new women with “are you going to be my new mommy?”.  Some would laugh, one spit out her drink. My father once dated a woman my brothers age. My brother and she were touching each others knees under the table once. Did I mention that I’m 38 and my father is 66?  Maybe I should tell you a bit more about myself, by pasting this handy unedited Facebook note:

1.Only 25?

2. I like Vampire Books written for 13 year olds, but get upset when the sex is not graphic?
3. My father recently told me that my mother was bad in bed
4. I will never get out of therapy
5. The last date I was on, told me I should freeze my eggs and then showed me a film he made of him being brutally tortured..and I still slept with him.
6. Ive seen the movie “He’s Just Not That Into You” 15 times, still confuses me.
7. I farted at yoga a few weeks ago
8. I like to watch the Biggest Loser and eat a can of whipped cream
9. This morning I woke up singing Barry Manillow
10. My body is being ravaged by aliens, or so it seems
11. I like doing my taxes
12. I don’t get hints
13. I would like to train the ants in my apartment to do my laundry and that giant cockroach looking thing to mop.
14. In one of my versions of hell I have to pee badly, I am wearing high heels(cute ones), walking a long distance with blisters, there are ants everywhere, Selda is playing and someone is scratching their fingers against a chalkboard..you should all go listen to selda to see what I’m talking about.
15. Not only have I been reading books for 13 year olds, but I am going through an emo phase and can’t stop listening to Dashboard Confessional…
16. At my Bat-Mitzvah my Grandmother said, on stage, being video taped “Hailey, what ever you do, dont give it away for nothing” woops. sorry grandma.
17. If I could, I would dress up as a different animal everyday, at least then I would have a clear reason for being single
18. Vagina is one of my favorite words
19. I love and respect competitive cheerleading and have many tattoos and a foul mouth and attitude.
20. I am addicted to my cell phone, Facebook, email and anything that allows me to stalk and be constantly connected and on hand in the most pathetic of ways possible.
21. Teen brides freak the fuck out of me…sorry
22. I am head over heels for him….
23. I cant find a movie I love more than Harold and Maude
24. My life and quirks strangely mimic Annie Hall’s and I often am convinced that my life is a staged Woody Allen movie.
25. I have a gallon bag of rice next to my bed that I put my phone in when I get it wet, which is often.
26. 25 my ass… I have been blessed and am lucky and often forget it and forget to thank you all for letting me be me…

Hop a Plane-Tegan and Sara

Disaster: A Love Story or A Complex Series of Blow Jobs

This is my first post. I never intended to blog about my love life, or more accurately, my dating life, but I never expected it to be so pathetically entertaining. I felt it a disservice to allow all who thought they had the strangest, most disastrous dating life, to keep perpetuating their own self-deprecating myth, without first, a glimpse into mine. Sadly, mine is no myth, but a Woody Allen-esque complex series of disaster, humiliation, really bad luck and extremely unfortunate situations. I toyed with calling this blog “A Complex Series of Blow Jobs” as ultimately, most could all be boiled down to that one common factor, but there does happened to be a few situations where said bj is not in the equation, so “Disaster: A love Story”, will have to do. I must tell you, that someone has won my heart, sadly, keeping with the theme of my blog, he doesn’t know.

Luckily, my humor and love of music have allowed me to survive my dating life and I will be sharing a song with each post, that I feel will help illustrate my moods throughout this interesting journey. The following posts are just a smattering for your persusal. While most seem funny, and trust me, most experiences were hilarious (in hindsight) the music still seems to represent the not so funny part; the “I can’t believe this is happening again” part and the “maybe it’s me” part…Enjoy!

Slight Figure of Speech-Avett Brothers