Tuesday, January 15, 2013

The Infraggable Tony-Man vs Bad Dates [Part 2]

(Original Post date 9 November 2012)

Now for part two of “What makes a bad date?”

So, I could go on and on about tardiness. And I really can’t stress enough how important actually knowing WHAT a date actually is, and if you’re about to expose yourself to one. There are also a number of other irksome nuances about the dating scene that drives me insane in the membrane (insane; got no brain)! Again, I’m really speaking as an outsider, looking in on this crazy world that I don’t understand. But I think other than exceptional tardiness, and date status… the biggest thing that turns me off is attitude. Trust me; no one likes an overly snarky bitch. I get it, Meredith Brooks taught a generation of women that you’re a bitch… and I think that’s mildly cute in a Fem-Nazi sort of way. But leave that shit with someone else. I’m not trying to say that “women should be a cook in the kitchen, a janitor around the house, and an acrobat in the bed,” (though it couldn’t hurt) but it’s simply not attractive to me when all you eat is eight slices of Bitcheroni, and drink only Carnation’s Instant Bitch. Some guys might go for it, but I simply just don’t want that impending migraine. If I gotta suffer, a lot more people will suffer vicariously.

And as I said, I don’t want to date some sexy zombie, only manufactured solely for my pleasing. I want a woman who can make me think. Who doesn’t mind sharing in my juvenile methods of thought, and isn’t afraid of dick and fart jokes from time to time. I want a girl who can also draw that line for me and try to keep me from crossing it. As long as that line is drawn pretty far out there, and allows me some running room, so to speak. Quite frankly, if I had the opportunity to date some girl with a stick up her ass, I’d more likely date the stick. At least it’s doing something mildly interesting. Our conversations might not be earth-shattering, but I bet I’d be more invested in the stick than the chick. …that sounded a little off; but oh well.

Something else that irks me, is appearance. Yes; I’m something of a shallow person. I expect the woman that I’m dating to have a certain sort of physical attractiveness to her. Show me a guy who says that a lady’s looks aren’t important, and I’ll show you either a gay guy, a closet gay guy, or someone who enjoys beating his dick like it owes him money. (Caveat: I have no issues against the gays, the lesbians, the bisexuals, the trans-sexuals, or even the shemales. As far as I’m concerned; heterosexual divorce is at about 53% in the United States; if anyone could truly appreciate the supposed sanctity of marriage; it’s these fuckers. If they try to come onto you, chances are; you just tell them that you’re not whatever they happen to be, and they’ll leave you alone.) I have to say that I think that I’m an average looking person. I’m not great looking, but I don’t think that I’m a total dumpster fire. With that said, I don’t want to date someone who would make the hideous witch from Snow White and the Seven Dwarves look like Beyonce. But it’s not just physical appearance, but how you represent yourself, through clothes, make-up, the way you use your words. Okay, let me explain. On a typical day; I wear a t-shirt, I wear black jeans, I don’t dress-up very nicely, because I’m not trying to impress anyone. I don’t have to. I will occasionally miss showers, I don’t always groom my hair. I’m not going out to impress people. Hell, most days I don’t go out, because I currently just don’t have the money to flaunt. But if I find myself on a date, or at an interview, or some sort of important soiree of sorts; you better believe that I clean myself up nicely, I shower, I shave, I use deodorant, Axe body spray, use Listerine, dress up as nicely as I can. I want to shove myself in the best light that I possibly can; for whatever purpose. So; if a guy like me who doesn’t like to dress up can take the time to do so (provided the venue of said date is appropriate for it), then my date damn well better do what she can to look her best. And she better look better than me. There’s something wrong, when I’m considered the cute one of the couple.

I could hark about appearance forever and still not say everything I really think about appearance. Suffice it to say that appearance and presentation on a date is very important. So, to sort of wrap up this two-part exposition into the look of my psyche and the dating world, I’ll just say this, and it’s a touchy subject.

Sex. (Get it, touchy? ….wokka wokka…) Some could argue that the purpose of dating, is to fling DNA at each other within the third or fourth date. Having never been on an honest to goodness first date; I couldn’t tell you what sort of criteria the daters must meet within the third or fourth date to get to that inevitability. I can’t tell you where the checkpoints are, nor could I tell you the physical signs that lead up to such a moment. Really, if you’re really just in it for putting out, and to get your knob-slobbed; buy the services of your “Friendly Neighborhood Hooker.” Some of these women are kind enough to allow you to negotiate prices, and you might just find yourself a sale at the bargain bin, for waaaay less than the cost of gas, food, entertainment, groceries, tickets, whatever it costs for four dates. If dating is just a means to justify the ends. Buy a hooker. No questions, no sharing of backstories, no real time investment. Sure, you may have to double wrap; but no path is perfect. But on the flipside, maybe a little sex is what you both need, and if you’re both okay with it, and it only takes 1 or 2 dates to figure that out; then go with it. I’m certainly not going to stand in your way. Personally, that’s not the way I look at things; but to each their own.

So that’s a very general look at what I expect from the dating world, and what makes a bad date. Take that with a grain of salt; certainly those of you who have liked and subscribed and all that crap are certainly able to comment me what you think. No comment will be screened or deleted, and no voice will be silenced, whether the comment makes you look like a cock-monger or whatever.

Next update will be a review of Quinton Tarantino’s “Man with the Iron Fists.” I plan on watching it tonight.

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