back in the saddle again

So you know what Steve Tyler sounds like when he screeches out that line? That's how I feel today.

I re-posted my profile on Nerve yesterday, and have finally had my first bad internet dating experience. Wheeee!

I had been window shopping for a few days, as nerve (the crappiest dating site in town these days, unless you upgrade to a silver or gold membership, as they are constantly encouraging you to do) allows you to keep your profile hidden from the public. There were a couple of cute guys, some funny ones, some exes (with good profiles), but nothing I wanted to bust out of hiding for.

And then I found this guy. He was hilarious. The answers to his questions made me snort out loud:

The best or worst lie I've ever told
My friend Scott and I told our mutual friend Lisa -- who was about to finalize the purchase of her first car -- that the make, model and year of the car she was buying (1989 Nissan Sentra, or whatever) had a known problem with the "frammis." (Important note: there is no such thing as a "frammis.") Lisa is very strong-willed, very smart, very independent and not the type to be easily duped, so I think that watching her scream at the surprised and confused (and, probably, honest) car dealer that "I know there's a problem with the frammis on this model, and you'd better either replace mine or give me a discount on the purchase price!" might have been the closest I've come in a while to peeing in my pants. So, that was a cool lie.

He had no picutre, but I emailed him anyway. We had a very witty back and forth, and then, at 5:15, I left work, and logged off. I didn't bother to tell him I was leaving (perhaps that was my bad) but when I got to my friend's house later that night there were SIX emails from him waiting for me. One laughingly exhorting me for leaving the conversation in mid-stream (as if I had put the phone receiver down and walked away while he was still talking). And five wondering where the hell I had gone.

Hello, read my profile. I'm a legal secretary. We leave as close as humanly possible to the end of the work day, which for us is 5:30.

So then I send a reassuring email saying that I'm still interested, but I addressed it to Pestery McPesterpants, and asked him to relax a little, that I'm at a friend's house and not at liberty to write all that much.

He then sends another, which ends with:
"Ah, well. Luckily for you, you're gorgeous, smart and funny. Otherwise, I might not have given you the benefit of the doubt.
Oh, and, by the way...Could ya send a photo of your friend?"

"Ha ha ha," I think. So I write back:

"A: You're fired.
b: are you related to playwright {names changed to protect the innocent}?
3. My friend is married. And has a toddler. And makes a mean mac and cheese! (yum)"

He actually thinks I'm serious, that I'm no longer interested in corresponding with him because I've fired him.

Hello, is anyone serious when they fire someone anymore? I mean, if I were serious, I would say something like "this is inappropriate" or "goodbye, loser." But he then sends me no fewer than six additional emails, wondering if it was his picture that turned me off. Or maybe we could get coffee as friends. Why was I so cool at 3 pm and not now? He wanted to know where he went wrong.

So this was what he got back. I think it's adequately harsh enough to make him go away, but self-empowering enough to share:

"Wow.

You want to know where you went wrong? By making assumptions about where I was and what I was doing. Don't assume that the "online now" feature [on nerve] is working. I had logged off and left when I said I had. And if you have a problem with me looking at other guys (on a dating site, for crying out loud) then you might just be a little too pushy and insecure for me.

You are a good looking guy, trust me, it's not your picutre. It's the 16 emails I've gotten since yesterday. Email to me is more like mail than conversation. Sure, I like getting a reply, but if I don't, I assume that person will get back to me in due time.

This is a pity, as you're the funniest person I've run into on this site, but your inability in the first DAY of our interaction to give me any space in which to live my own life, when I say specifically that that is what I'm doing, is outrageous.

Had you relaxed, taken things slowly, and assumed that I was into you (remember I sent *you* the first email), I would have been interested in getting together with you.

But now, I think that's not a good idea.

Best of luck to you,
kate

EDITOR'S NOTE: Since posting this, I have received word from said gentleman, saying that he thought I had seen his picture (when in fact I had not) and wasn't into him, and he was trying to offer me the opportunity to tell him he wasn't my type. Six times, I guess.