Adventures in Dating, Part 56
Jan. 17th, 2013 11:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
terribleturnipLook at me, all posty-mcposterson. Between work and holidays and home improvement and feeling under attack from whatever creeping crud is going around, I've had a lot of good intentions of writing, but not a lot of follow-through. One hates to atrophy, and I had a brilliant lunch conversation with some female friends, also in the dating game, so I was finally able to get some polling data. If polling four people representing three different generational cohorts, is data.
(It's NOT, okay? But for the sake of this post, we're going to say it is. Plus my intuition says it's true and my intuition is right 80% of the time. And that's honed on a lifetime of anectdotal data, which means...absolutely nothing. But before science and accuracy kill my post...)
I can't answer for the under-25's. They weren't in my sample set. But in the over 25's, I can say, unequivocably: Gentlemen Callers, if we have not actually met you, if we have actually not gone out on a date yet, we do not want to see a picture that includes your naked torso and not your head. We especially do not want to see your pride and joy.
Honestly, we don't want to see your pride and joy until we have fond memories of it in action. There, I said it. Then we may adore it. And even then, you should probably do some comfort level checking before you send a picture in the middle of the business day. Because sometimes we're careless and just OPEN STUFF UP IN THE MIDDLE OF A ROOM FULL OF COLLEAGUES. Which we should never do, but who the hell expects a picture of a pride and joy at 11:31am while you're waiting for the meeting to start?
But, near strangers, or in one case, ex-classmate I haven't seen in decades, we haven't even MET yet. I don't even know if I LIKE you. And you're sending me missives of Bad Judgment.
Anyway, when we're contemplating going out on a date with you, we're going to run with the assumption that you have a pride and joy. We really aren't interested in what its exact attributes are just yet. (I'm talking to you, Mr. I Actually Used The Words Well-Endowed On My Dating Profile.) There are a lot of check-offs before we get to the size or skill of your pride and joy. Because, honestly, if you can't pass the personal hygiene, interesting to talk to, some degree of charm/wit, table manners above neanderthal level, some measure of social skills, the ability to dress yourself, and dozens more, the size or looks of your pride and joy are immaterial. If you have moss growing on your teeth, or are thirty eight years old and have never had an actual job, we don't care if your pride and joy was sculpted by Michelangelo.
Here's the thing: we know we're going to have to spend a lot more time listening to you, dealing with you, hanging out with and looking at the parts of you that we can see in a fully dressed picture. That's what we're worried about in the initial stages. Rippling abs and a rearing pride and joy...icing, my boys, icing. But we know that a delicious cake is still delicious, even without icing, but all the icing in the world cannot save a crap cake. We're prepared to judge the pride and joy on its performance, not looks. (Oh, and Mr. I Thought Sending You A Picture of My Clearly Not Rearing, One Might Almost Say Curled Up and Napping, Pride And Joy Would Be A Good Idea...the answer is NO. Actually the answer is: What the hell is WRONG with you, please let me make an appointment with a therapist for you.)
(I'm exempting profiles and "dating" interaction that is just around hook-ups. By hookups I mean casual sex. I've lost track. When I was a teenager and there were pterodactyls, hooking up with someone meant meeting them and doing something...upright, in public. Then it meant something COMPLETELY different, involving upright only sometimes and public only if you liked danger. I feel like it's moving back to it meaning just getting together again...but I could be wrong. I often am, which is why I often resort to old words that no one remembers what they mean anymore, you have to google them to find out, and they aren't in Urban Dictionary, because I want to be CLEAR that we both know what the hell I'm talking about.)
But in the meantime, if you really ARE looking for some kind of relationship beyond that, a picture of your naked torso is sending me, as a woman, a completely different message. This is why you will die alone, bankrupted by your latest money-hunting trophy wife. I just thought you should know that you are using bait that attracts a certain kind of fish. Which is all well and good if WANT that kind of fish...but then you should probably re-write your profile and lose all the verbiage about looking for your soul mate and deep philosophical discussions, because that kind of fish isn't interested in that bullshit. Then it's all about do you live in a neighborhood where I have a hare's chance of catching a cab if I need to make a quick exit. Er, that's what my friends told me, anyway. That that's what they think about when they're just interested in hook-up, the slap and tickle hook-up, which also now means something...sigh. Ahem.
Anyhoo. In the meantime, it gives me fun e-mails to write -- scolding strangers, my new hobby. Although sometimes I feel more like a zookeeper trying to breed a rare species, watching them bumble around and thinking good heavens, your species almost DESERVES to go extinct, look at that, fumbling around without the vaguest idea of how to court each other, completely socially deficient.
(It's NOT, okay? But for the sake of this post, we're going to say it is. Plus my intuition says it's true and my intuition is right 80% of the time. And that's honed on a lifetime of anectdotal data, which means...absolutely nothing. But before science and accuracy kill my post...)
I can't answer for the under-25's. They weren't in my sample set. But in the over 25's, I can say, unequivocably: Gentlemen Callers, if we have not actually met you, if we have actually not gone out on a date yet, we do not want to see a picture that includes your naked torso and not your head. We especially do not want to see your pride and joy.
Honestly, we don't want to see your pride and joy until we have fond memories of it in action. There, I said it. Then we may adore it. And even then, you should probably do some comfort level checking before you send a picture in the middle of the business day. Because sometimes we're careless and just OPEN STUFF UP IN THE MIDDLE OF A ROOM FULL OF COLLEAGUES. Which we should never do, but who the hell expects a picture of a pride and joy at 11:31am while you're waiting for the meeting to start?
But, near strangers, or in one case, ex-classmate I haven't seen in decades, we haven't even MET yet. I don't even know if I LIKE you. And you're sending me missives of Bad Judgment.
Anyway, when we're contemplating going out on a date with you, we're going to run with the assumption that you have a pride and joy. We really aren't interested in what its exact attributes are just yet. (I'm talking to you, Mr. I Actually Used The Words Well-Endowed On My Dating Profile.) There are a lot of check-offs before we get to the size or skill of your pride and joy. Because, honestly, if you can't pass the personal hygiene, interesting to talk to, some degree of charm/wit, table manners above neanderthal level, some measure of social skills, the ability to dress yourself, and dozens more, the size or looks of your pride and joy are immaterial. If you have moss growing on your teeth, or are thirty eight years old and have never had an actual job, we don't care if your pride and joy was sculpted by Michelangelo.
Here's the thing: we know we're going to have to spend a lot more time listening to you, dealing with you, hanging out with and looking at the parts of you that we can see in a fully dressed picture. That's what we're worried about in the initial stages. Rippling abs and a rearing pride and joy...icing, my boys, icing. But we know that a delicious cake is still delicious, even without icing, but all the icing in the world cannot save a crap cake. We're prepared to judge the pride and joy on its performance, not looks. (Oh, and Mr. I Thought Sending You A Picture of My Clearly Not Rearing, One Might Almost Say Curled Up and Napping, Pride And Joy Would Be A Good Idea...the answer is NO. Actually the answer is: What the hell is WRONG with you, please let me make an appointment with a therapist for you.)
(I'm exempting profiles and "dating" interaction that is just around hook-ups. By hookups I mean casual sex. I've lost track. When I was a teenager and there were pterodactyls, hooking up with someone meant meeting them and doing something...upright, in public. Then it meant something COMPLETELY different, involving upright only sometimes and public only if you liked danger. I feel like it's moving back to it meaning just getting together again...but I could be wrong. I often am, which is why I often resort to old words that no one remembers what they mean anymore, you have to google them to find out, and they aren't in Urban Dictionary, because I want to be CLEAR that we both know what the hell I'm talking about.)
But in the meantime, if you really ARE looking for some kind of relationship beyond that, a picture of your naked torso is sending me, as a woman, a completely different message. This is why you will die alone, bankrupted by your latest money-hunting trophy wife. I just thought you should know that you are using bait that attracts a certain kind of fish. Which is all well and good if WANT that kind of fish...but then you should probably re-write your profile and lose all the verbiage about looking for your soul mate and deep philosophical discussions, because that kind of fish isn't interested in that bullshit. Then it's all about do you live in a neighborhood where I have a hare's chance of catching a cab if I need to make a quick exit. Er, that's what my friends told me, anyway. That that's what they think about when they're just interested in hook-up, the slap and tickle hook-up, which also now means something...sigh. Ahem.
Anyhoo. In the meantime, it gives me fun e-mails to write -- scolding strangers, my new hobby. Although sometimes I feel more like a zookeeper trying to breed a rare species, watching them bumble around and thinking good heavens, your species almost DESERVES to go extinct, look at that, fumbling around without the vaguest idea of how to court each other, completely socially deficient.
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no subject
Date: 2013-01-17 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-17 07:02 pm (UTC)But then again, I’m just some old, married putz and not looking for the “hook-up” as you call it.
no subject
Date: 2013-01-18 04:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-22 09:39 pm (UTC)