About a year ago, a guy from OKCupid asked me out. His profile seemed promising, something along the lines of:
I’m unsatisfied in my current job, and I want to go back to school to become a writer.
I said, since he was a huge football fan, we should go to a sports bar and watch a football game. He could teach me all about the sport, see. I don’t mind football—I’ve always found it barbarically balletic—but I don’t understand all the rules, and there are so many rules, so I thought, “Hey, I’ll learn something, and he’ll feel like an expert. Win win.”
Remember my friend Cat and her ducks?
The dude was really caught up in the game so there was many a silence where I stirred my drink and arranged the salt-and-pepper shakers. (OK, my fault for assuming he could split his focus, but duck.)
I asked him about his writing, who his influences were. He said that guy who wrote Kiss the Girls. (Duck.)
He started revealing things about himself. Remember that line from his profile? I’ll translate:
I’m unsatisfied in my current job [at McDonald’s], and I want to go back to school [because I dropped out of UNC-Charlotte during my sophomore year] to become a writer [and even though I’m 30, I still live with my dad]. (Goose.)
I waited until the end of the game and said a polite goodbye. He contacted me again over OKCupid, and I told him gently that I didn’t think we were a match. And then he friended me on Facebook. (Turkey.)
I felt guilty—why did I feel guilty?!—so I accepted his friend request. Every so often he would post notes on his profile. He would do the Bill Maher thing and call them “New Rules”. And they were things like:
New Rule: Flat-chested girls should not wear strapless dresses. (Emu.)
I deleted him as a friend. He friended me again. (Ostrich.) I’m an idiot and accepted.
He emailed me the first chapter of a book he was writing, warning me that it was “pretty erotic”. Here’s the opening paragraph:
Jamie Crawford sat alone in Qdoba on Franklin Street in Chapel Hill, North Carolina. She ate a taco while reading her 20th Century History book. She wished someone would join her, especially a young man because she had so much to offer.
I’m hooked! Not only that, here’s some dialogue:
“So, what are you doing later?”
“Just going back to my room.”
“Alone?”
“Yeah, until around midnight or so.”
“Would you like some company?”
“Are you offering?”
“I am, actually.”
“I’d love some company.”
“Need me to drive you over?”
“Yes, that would be good.”
Move over, Mamet. Ready for some erotica?:
Once Jamie closed the door, Mark stood behind Jamie and grabbed her large breasts. The five-six, portly, busty young woman had shoulder blade-length brown hair and green eyes. She smiled at the six-foot-tall young man who had brown hair and blue eyes. He began to squeeze her large, soft breasts…Mark unzipped and unbuttoned his pants, then pulled his pants and boxer briefs down, revealing his penis.
Revealing his penis?! I think I just came. Wait, there’s more.
She looked up at her appealing partner whom she’d brought back to the dorm room. As she sucked, she used no hands. After three more minutes of oral sex, Jamie stood up.
Get ready—then he mounts her…
The two of them began to breathe deeper as Mark increased the rate of his stroking of their private regions. Jamie began to moan as Mark put more force behind his strokes.
“I’m coming!” she cried as she felt herself climax as Mark increased the force of his strokes again. He then began to climax, making strange vocalizations.
That’s right: private regions and strange vocalizations. (PTERO-FUCKING-DACTYL.)
Did you know there’s a Block button on Facebook that will completely wipe out your connection with a person and make it as if you don’t exist to them? Whew.
