Tagged: stupid email messages

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What’s That You Write?

I’m in the process of moving from one apartment to another in my building. I’m kind of a neat freak so this has me crazy. It’s not a horrible move—just up one floor and to a much better space—but the level of chaos makes me nuts.

For example, when I originally moved to NYC I shipped my furniture with what I thought was a reputable moving company.

OK, that’s a lie.

I sent my stuff with movers who gave me the best price—you get what you pay for.

Let’s just say when my belongings arrived (ten days late), and the seriously scary looking driver told me (menacingly) I needed to pay an additional $1000 or he was not unloading the big stuff, I possibly overreacted.

“Don’t fuck with me or you’ll regret it,” I said, through gritted teeth, my voice low and growly. My daughters will tell you that when the voice drops and the teeth grit, we’ve entered the psycho zone.

I should also mention that I happen to be unpacking my kitchen boxes when Thug Mover attempted extortion. Alright, I might’ve had a small paring knife in my hand (tiny, really and quite dull as are all my knives). Maybe I inadvertently pointed it in his general direction. We, um, reached an understanding after he made a phone call that involved nonstop screaming in Hebrew—or at least I think that was the language since earlier he’d shared he was Israeli and didn’t take shit from customers. I assume he was telling his boss that I was unwilling to negotiate. I didn’t need a translator to figure out he was describing me as “one crazy bitch”.

Listen, I watched enough episodes of Oz to understand that when dealing with a badass, a shank comes in handy.

So, I haven’t been in the right state of mind to deal with some of the more “interesting” messages I’ve received lately. Normally, I try to respond, but I’m afraid (given my history with moving mode) I might go all gangsta on their asses.

Here are three examples:

I have coined a new word which I’m hoping will catch on. The word is “fuv.” Fuv came about due to my frustration with the phrase, “making love,” specifically its inability to capture the wonderfully lusty, grunting nature of the act. I was also unsatisfied with the mono-syllabic Anglo-Saxon word commonly used to describe intercourse. That word failed miserably at describing the deep spiritual and emotional bonding that can occur during sex. But now with my new word, couples engaged in that most intimate of human activities can look into one another’s eyes (assuming they’re facing one another) and whisper the simple, all-encapsulating phrase, “I fuv you.” And yes, they can do all that while listening to my new album of remakes of classic pop hits, including, “If Fuving You Is Wrong, I Don’t Wanna Be Right,” “I Feel Like Making Fuv,” and the immortal, “Come Rain or Come Shine” featuring the lyric, “I’m gonna fuv you, like nobody’s fuved you.” So would you fused to meet? [redacted name]

I’d like to state for the record: I’ve never grunted.

Next:

I believe actions say more than words. I am passionate about life & my job, which gives me the freedom to live life as one adventure after another. We can travel the world together & enjoy my yacht. 

I want to know everything about you; we have a lifetime to explore the world and each other. I would be honored if you will go on a date with me to talk about how great our future can be. Respect, trust, friendship and chivalry are words I live by. I am looking for a long term relationship, passion, love & devoting my life to making you happy & accomplish every one of your dreams… (The name of my yacht is “dreams come true”). 

I hope you will get back to me soon; hopefully we can talk over the phone to learn a little about each other. 

Truly yours, 

[redacted]

Is it me or does this scream: drugged, duct taped and waking up on a boat to Barbados?

And last:

Hello 

How are you doing? hope you are fine and OK as for me am doing cool to write you this admiration message. 

My name is [redacted],,i was going through the site when your wonderful profile caught my eyes then i the decide write you this message to say hi to you.i don’t know how you will feel but i know i don’t wanna cause any negativity that will make you think am here for game,but really your pic and your profile really captured my attention,so decent and responsible…i am looking for someone who i can share my time with for the rest of my life but im ready to take it one step at a time there is no rush because life is to short and i think that its time for me to find my soulmate, someone who can share love and like to cuddle and hold hands and like to take walks in the summer and love me for who i am .as i will do the same in return and have trust honesty and be very understanding and to be very communicated also and plus learn to respect each other and most of all help out each other because i think that things should go both ways in life.i do hope to here from you soon cos am really dieing to see your spunky reply..bye for now and always keep that gorgeous smile of yours that drives me crazy.. 

Regards 

[redacted]

I’m gonna go out on a limb here, but he might regret the “dieing to see your spunky reply” portion.

I’ll respond to these guys when I’m feeling more settled—when my things are put away. Perhaps when I’ve returned from yoga or finished meditating and I don’t feel the yearning to open up a can.

Ooooooommm

“The difference between a house and a home is like the difference between a man and a woman–it might be embarrassing to explain, but it would be very unusual to get them confused.” Daniel Handler (as Lemony Snicket)

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I’m An Asshole

I believe in calling it as I see it and there’s no doubt I deserve this one.

After several conversations, I agreed to meet William for our first date. I have recently been exploring the option of dating men outside of Manhattan. I’ve not changed my online profile so the “Manhattan only, please” is still in place but if a guy reaches out from distant lands like Hoboken, Long Island or even Poughkeepsie, I’m willing to consider a passport stamp.

William is from Long Island.

I noticed the longer we talked the more frequently he referred to himself as “Billy,” he also began signing his email messages with the nickname.

I struggle to grasp why any person past the age of seventeen would continue to use the child’s version of their given name. That applies to either gender: Susan or Sue, fifty years old and still going by Suzy or the godawful Suzy-Q?

Grow up, already.

William let me know he had a successful business—many times. I shared that although I thought success was a nice thing, I wanted to know more about him from a personal perspective. When he asked me out he said, “Oh, and I’ll come your way.” Now, I know that seems like a simple statement but it didn’t sit well with me. It implied that he was doing me a favor. I wanted to say, “No shit, you’ll come my way. I don’t want to commute to date.” I held my tongue and chastised myself for being bitchy. During our conversation we talked about why certain people were online. William shared that he had been on several dates since joining the site three weeks ago. He said the common theme he’d heard from his dates was that the guys were idiots. I agreed and told him I’d had my share of those. I then told him of something my friend Chloe told me. She said a male friend of hers felt that the majority of men online “have no game.” If they did they’d be able to get a date. His theory was that with the amount of available women outnumbering men (in the tri-state area), if a guy is online he couldn’t cut it in the real world. I’ve often thought the same thing. William said with the information he’d gotten from other women, he agreed.

So when Billy suggested we go on a city bus tour—you know, those double-decker, bright red machines, I wasn’t exactly jumping for joy. But with my new outlook I decided to roll with it.

Then he suggested we meet at 10 am so we could make it a daylong date since he was coming all that way into the city and he also said the it would be “his treat.”

Another No Shit Moment.

I don’t know about you, but the last thing I want to do is be stuck anywhere with someone I’m not enjoying–a first date is always a crapshoot. The 10 am start time only made it worse.

Have I told you I’m not a morning person? I’m always up early but try to avoid talking until noon.

On the day before our date I got the following message from Billy:

I got game and I’m bringing it!

See attached.

Billy

Here’s the attachment:

 

Now here’s where I go to Assholeville. I sent the following message to my older daughter: 

Here’s my date for tomorrow. First, the name, Billy. He started out as William. Second, he’s taking me on a NYC bus tour that starts at 10 am. Next, he told me, “It’s my treat” like I didn’t know he’d be paying. AND then lastly, the latest message below. Can I cancel now?

I hit send, felt a little better after my mini-rant and knew my girl would feel my pain.

Thirty minutes later I’d heard nothing from my daughter but I did have another message from Billy.

God, please don’t let it be another cyber flower, I thought, as I opened it.

Nope, here’s what it said:

My date, we shall call her Melanie or more recently Pompous.

Firstly, the name either Billy or William. My dear friends call me Billy and that’s what I thought we were becoming – was I so very wrong:

Second, I floated several ideas and she was supposed to proffer several as well, but never did. Something about “packing hell”.

In this day of equality and clarity a mention of “my treat” is erroneously considered to be some type of social fau paux.

Third, she mentioned time and again how men on the web have no GAME. Seems she forgot to mention that she has no sense of humor.

And then LASTLY, a romantic gesture of a digital rose between online professionals is ridiculed.

She is of course free to exercise her lady’s prerogative and coldly cancel via Email.

Melanie, I do so love the banter and my compliments on your having played “the game” and naive me so very well.

Billy

SHIT!!

Guess who mistakenly replied instead of forwarding?

Just call me Ms. Tech-Savvy.

He was right. He did ask for my ideas and I was in packing hell with my youngest daughter. She just moved to Vermont with her girlfriend. I certainly could’ve suggested something else, but I didn’t.

I considered deleting the message but instead I had to own it. I sent Billy a message apologizing in as many ways possible in one paragraph. I explained that wasn’t my way of canceling the date, rather I had accidentally sent him the message intended for my daughter (I’m certain that revelation made it so much better), I wrote that I had no justification for my awful behavior and I told him that I’m an asshole.

He called immediately.

NO!!!

I didn’t want to answer, but then I would have to add coward to my list of despicable personality traits.

I answered with another apology and explained that although I did feel those things, I would’ve told him much more delicately if we continued to see each other.

He asked if I still wanted to go on the date.

Who was this guy, Ghandi?

I would’ve given him the boot. He actually stated that he was impressed with my ballsy message.

I was duly shamed.

So, the next morning, bright and early I met Billy at Madame Tussaud’s Wax Museum on 42nd Street where the tour began. We climbed aboard the bus and headed out. Strange as it may sound, I actually enjoyed the tour. Here’s what I learned:

The Paris, a tavern in the Downtown district is said to be the place Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid planned their Bolivian escape.

The Fraunces Tavern, the place where General George Washington said goodbye to his officers at the end of the American Revolution and returned to his Mount Vernon home.

SoHo has the most cast-iron buildings in the world. If I’m completely honest, I never knew it had any.

When the tour ended we backtracked to the best pizza in NYC (according to our guide), John’s Pizza on Bleecker Street in the West Village.

We chatted over our food and Billy told me he doesn’t think he’ll be on the site much longer since he’s narrowed it down to two women.

I wasn’t one of them.

“Why am I here?” I asked, trying not to sound snotty since I’d already demonstrated proficiency in that area.

“Because I wanted to fulfill my obligation.”

The minute I hit “Send” and that doozy of a message went to Billy’s Inbox, his virtuous card should’ve expired. Depak Chopra would’ve called me a bitch.

“Out of all the women I’ve dated you look the most like your photos,” Billy said, so at least it wasn’t false advertising.

I offered to pay my share of the bill. He declined, I paid the tip then thanked Billy and wished him well.

During the cab ride home I decided my atonement would be two things: I would watch The Real Housewives episodes with a critical eye. With every catty, nasty, rotten thing they said or did I would tell myself, “See, that’s you.”

I also knew I must share my shame on the blog. Perhaps I should reconsider my lack of religion. Confessing to a priest would be far less humiliating.

“He took you on a bus tour? What’d he come in from Ohio?” My friend “Chloe”

Email Extravaganza

I’d like to share some of the more interesting email messages I’ve received lately.  There is big money to be made with a business that guides men through the online messaging process. I hear Internet dating consultants are available. Could be wrong, but I don’t think these guys have used them.

Here’s a keeper:

Well Hi Beutiful….We sure have good persentages and we are compatible star sign wise we have a good or should I say we seem to think alike when it comes to plan B and stuff and if your photos are recent? God your my dream girl! But I may not be your dream guy, I don’t match up in every way/things stated in your disires but I’m close, so if you would like to know more about me, as I would like to know more about you, then I guess you should reply and lets try to get to know each other better.

Cheers Randy

 

Um, I think Randy may be right about my “disires” even without the knowledge that I was the fifth grade spelling bee champ in Mrs. Thalmayer’s class (not even touching the your/you’re). It was a relief to know our star signs are compatible. After all, who cares about poor spelling when our moons rise together?

Can you find me?

 

Then there’s this one:

Hi,

If the chemistry was good, would you consider having a friends with benefits type of relationship?

Allen

 

Wondering what it is about my profile that would lead to that question? Perhaps it’s that I state that I’m looking for a long-term committed relationship.

Here’s another:

what your number

I responded:

what you crazy

 

Not quite sure what the goal of this next one might be:

Hi! For a number of reasons, I’m not the guy you’re looking for. Only reason I started looking at your profile is that you’re in Manhattan, and I occasionally spend time there; so, the only reason I’m writing, is that I thought you might like to know that I thought you looked about 38 in your pictures…and you managed to look that good, without looking the tiniest bit slutty – which is a difficult achievement, for many women on this site to pull off. Way to go. :)

 

Yes, I save my slutty pics to share after the first date.

What? You don’t think that’s me?

Then there’s the topper. Read this exchange and then punch a wall:

I am a california boy…..however if you want to give this a bit of a try…..I would give you the life of a queen…..ronald 

perhaps we can chat by phone?

 

I’m feeling a tinge of dislike with his “life of a queen” statement. We know what he meant by that one.

I replied:

Hi Ronald, 

The life of a queen? Wow, I feel like one just living in NYC, but that was a bold statement. I’m not sure how you think this could work. You live in California and I’m in Manhattan. I do wish you the best.

Ronald responded:

I hate New York….and when I make a bold statement I can back it up with about 25 to 30 million….I would like to give you a call some time….ronald

 

OK, now he’s dissing my boyfriend.

I replied:

Thank you for your message but I need to be honest. Money doesn’t impress me in the least. Treating me like a queen (by my standards) has nothing to do with a lifestyle but a person. Many of my relationships have been with successful men. Not because I’ve sought them out, they’ve pursued me. You’ll have to do better than that.

If you’re looking for a woman who’ll be impressed with your bank account, you’ve got the wrong one here.

Best, 

Melanie

Ronald’s response:

It is not the amount of money but the quality and traits of that type of man….as I do not have to chase women and you obviously have men lined up for your favors…..I will not waste my time…..good look on this dating site….but I am sure you do not need to really be here….:) Ronald—

Whew, now we’re done, right? I replied:

Good luck to you too, Ronald. I wish you the best.

Here he goes again:

I wonder why women say that …..when they do not mean it at all…..sure you do not want to go to europe with me…? r

What an asshole. He still didn’t get it. I think he’s used to throwing around a trip to Europe and the ladies come running.

Here’s my response:

Ronald, 

I do wish you the best. Looking for that right person is hard–being on a site like this one can be discouraging. I love Europe and would love to go with someone I’m in a relationship with, but I don’t know you.

You live in California, I live in Manhattan. You hate NYC and I love it. It seems we don’t have much to build on considering geography. 

I know there are many women who would be thrilled to be with a guy who can afford to take them to Europe, who wants to provide all sorts of financial security. I’m just not that woman. I’m looking for a man who’ll compliment my life not become it. 

Thank you for your messages and I hope you find the woman you’re looking for. 

Best, 

Melanie

GRRRRRRR:

Hi…..today is friday I just woke up and read your letter. I dismissed it and then went back to your picture then read your letter and I was struck by the fact you spend so much time in saying good bye. Now, we have both said good bye 2 times……so how about giving me your tel number and I will call you tomorrow. I find my self strangely attracted to you. I could understand it if you were in boots and black nylons like many women on this site….but when I look at you I see myself married to you…..for me…..NY is big dirty expensive and full of jews…but I can see coming out of the Desert it might be appealing….be careful….most just want a roll in the sack….you will tire of it as it is not sex in the city…anyway lets have a talk before we say good bye again……love Ronald

 

SERIOUSLY? Maybe he was right. I was so caught up in politely putting him in his place that I gave him the impression I was interested. Probably shouldn’t have engaged for so long but there was something about this idiot that drove me crazy—made my blood boil.  I delivered what I knew would be our final communication.

Here’s what I wrote:

Ronald, what a horrible message. What a disgusting way to think. Why do you have an issue with Jewish people and how do you know I’m not Jewish? You better have buckets of money because buying a date will be the only way any woman will spend time with you (unless the National Socialist Movement has an online dating site that I’m unaware of).

A rich bigot–be still my heart. NEXT.

Melanie

PS-I’m well aware it’s not Sex in the City, you fool. I couldn’t walk around in those heels every day.

 

I guess you now know I’m not on JDate. 

CAN YOU BELIEVE HE RESPONDED?

He’d crossed over to crazy. I blocked and reported him to the site.

Here’s what he wrote:

Look honey, lets not fight….I like you alot…and I want to go forward with you…give me your number….dont lecture me about jews…..I do not want to discuss it….and you are not jewish…..xxx

Just a few of the messages I’ve received lately. Don’t you feel better about what’s in your Inbox?

I could use a pep talk about now.

Maybe even a hug.

“Bigotry and judgment are the height of insecurity.” Jasmine Guy

Profile Police: The Audacity of Audacity

If life were a fairytale here’s what would happen:

Liam Neeson would pass me on the street (he actually did one morning when I was walking my dogs, didn’t glance my way) and ask me if I’d like to join him for coffee.

Pierce Brosnan would read this blog and have to meet me.

Brad Pitt would be so turned off by Angelina’s leg debacle that he’d start looking for a woman with normal size thighs and somehow find me.

Hugh Jackman would notice me on the subway and follow as I got off at my stop.

George Clooney would figure that he’d try dating someone he couldn’t have fathered and look my way.

Alas, the reality of online dating at this age (maybe any age) is it seems all that’s available is the Cream of the Crud.

Can you tell I’ve had a bad week?

Some men who’ve contacted me recently are living in a watered down version of the fairytale scenarios I’ve mentioned above.  I’ve decided it’s time for a reality check since I think the majority of women on the site delete these sorts of email messages and these guys keep kidding themselves. Who knows? Maybe it’s so f-ing hard to meet men in Manhattan that they’re actually dating. Either way, I’ve had it.

Here’s an email message exchange I had with Bill:

You are very cute. How did you get to Saudi? I spent two months there on business.

My response:

Thank you for your message. I was in Saudi because my then husband worked for an engineering company that built oil platforms.

Now, a question for you. I read your profile and it surprised me that your match should have a body type of athletic and toned or slender and yet you state clearly in your profile that you’ve got 20 extra pounds around the middle. Did I read that incorrectly?

Best,

Mel

Here’s the part of his profile that I mentioned:

I am in excellent health, love my job, almost always wake up in a good mood, and look forward to every day. But, beware city girl, I am not a slick city guy. Yes, I like to dress well, but I lived on the West coast for 30 years and am sort of laid back. Full Disclosure: I list my body type as “average”. The fact is, most of me is in good shape. It’s just that darn 20 pounds I put on in my mid-section 14 years ago while I was getting my Master’s degree that I can’t seem to get rid of. What can I say, I am a single guy and it is hard to eat well all the time.

Here’s Bill’s response:

Ho Mel,

Good question. The reason I put it that way is because in my experience many women who put slender or athletic and toned are really about average. If they put about average, they are usually way over weight. Also, I am still very active and I want someone with the spunk to keep up with me.

How long were you in Saudi? Where? I was only there 2 months. That was enough for me!

Seriously? That’s his rationale? Here you go, Bill:

Hi Bill,

I was in Saudi for a year. More than enough time to know it wasn’t a nice place to live–especially for women.

Thank you for answering the question about the body types you expect. I have mine as “about average” but my scale is different than yours. About average means (to me) that I don’t have the body of my 20s and 30s. I am in proportion and nobody would ever call me fat. I workout 3 times a week. I guess if one were measuring the standard by the average woman my age (50) I would have what might be considered an athletic and toned build.

That being said, it is important to me that the man I’m with is in good physical shape. I work hard to try to counter the dreaded things that come with aging and perhaps at some point I’ll accept that the body changes–I’m just not there yet. The 20 extra lbs. around your middle is a little (please forgive my bluntness) unappealing. I think you’d feel the same way if a woman had that extra padding in the same place. I guess I just think that if you’re seeking someone who is slender or athletic and toned then you should be the same.

Best of luck in your search for the right person.

Mel

Twenty extra pounds around the middle? OK, I get that fitness gets much harder with age, but the flipping nerve he had to brazenly put his Santa stomach out there and then expect a woman who’s “about average” to jump.

The next email message was from Alfred who listed his age as 55, had no photo, and expected the woman he’s dating to earn a minimum of $75K per year. “Looks are very important,” he also stated in his profile.

Here’s his initial contact:

Hi [redacted profile name], I am a 60 year old upper east side resident, recently retired from [redacted] television network in order to start my own consulting firm. I have two grown kids who are scattered around the country but with whom I remain close. I read your profile with interest and believe we have a number of traits in common. I’d like the opportunity to find out. While I haven’t posted a picture, I’d be glad to send one if you would provide a personal email address. Based on my limited experience with this site, I have yet to figure out how to attach a picture. In any case, thanks very much for your consideration and I hope to hear from you. Best, Alfred

And my response:

Hi Alfred,

Thank you for your message. I appreciate that you’ve given me your true age and can only assume that you’ve listed it on this site as 55 for match purposes. To be honest, 60 is 5 years beyond the age of men I want to date. I’m also surprised that you’ve stated in your profile that “looks really do matter to me” and yet you don’t have a photo. I’m not sure how one attaches a photo to a [redacted dating site] email message, but I know it can be done as others have sent me a photo with their initial message when they choose not to have one for public view.

I’m not comfortable with giving you an alternative email address. I’m sure if you contact the site they can talk you through the process of attaching a photo via this email system and that important to me for two reasons. The first being that looks matter to me as well and given the 10 year age difference, even more so.

Also, I don’t meet your income requirements. I’m a new writer–this is a career change that I’ve pursued for the last two years. Come to think of it, I don’t know many writers who’ve reached the standards that you’ve set for your future paramour so you might want to steer clear of that occupation.

I’d be happy to determine if I feel that we are a match if you attach your photo. If not, I wish you the best in your search for the right person.

Best,

Mel

Alfred’s response:

Mel, I appreciate your frank response. When I initially joined I didn’t have a picture handy and, as I’ve used the site infrequently, I never got around to it. I appreciate the irony however, which you were kind enough to point out. So yes, I am a bit older, but I can only promise that one must age, but not necessarily mature. And I have the right to believe that I’m still much younger and to act appropriately which may or may not be a good thing. In any case, I have attached a picture – it’s recent; last December, I believe. I hope you will overlook the deficits that you noted and give additional communication a chance. If not, well, a few weeks of therapy will cure that I guess. Have a great day and thanks again for your consideration.

Best -

Alfred

I actually liked his response and he managed to figure out how to attach a photo in record time. Here’s my final email message:

 Hi Alfred,

My apologies for not replying promptly. My computer crashed and the replacement has been at Apple while the files were transferred. I hate typing a message from a phone.

Thank you for sending the photo. Unfortunately, I don’t think we are a match. You certainly don’t look your age.

I laughed with your line about therapy–very funny.

Thank you again and I wish you the best in finding the right person.

Mel

Here’s the truth. Alfred didn’t look his age, but he was well below average on the looks scale. Perhaps he’s been a powerful/successful guy and his appearance never prevented him from attracting the attractive. I can think of many examples of this with famous men. Would Melania have dated Donald if he were a plumber? How about Larry King? Would any woman want a piece of that if Larry were a retired schoolteacher on a pension?

And now the finale of my painful email week. I’ve been exchanging messages with Rob for the last month. He has a great profile, a very interesting job working for a major cable network, and he’s quite handsome. I didn’t mind that sometimes there would be several days in between his response. It wasn’t anything beyond chitchat and I wasn’t sure if it would ever be more. I actually quit responding to his messages after a week passed and he hadn’t gotten back to me. It was no longer interesting. Rob sent another message and this time asked if we could talk. He said he’d like to get my number and would like to speak and possible meet this week. I sent my number, gave him the times that I was available to talk and told him I was looking forward to finally hearing his voice. Then I waited. And waited. Nothing.

Here’s my final email message:

Hi Rob,

Not really sure why you would ask for my number and when I was available to talk and then not call. Or, at least send an email. I’m not trying to be rude, but that’s just flaky. Since there seems to be long stretches between your responses (you must be very busy) I want to save you the time and energy in case you considered reaching out again. Don’t.

I wish you the best.

Take care,

Mel

I don’t know about you, but there’s nothing worse to me than the “take care” ending. I hate when that happens.

It’s been a rough week, but I’ll soldier on. He’s out there. I know it.

I have a new Huffington Post piece. If you’re interested in reading it click here.

“Our own self-love draws a thick veil between us and our faults.” Lord Chesterfield

 

Profile Police: The Grown Ups’ Table

Thank you for your interest but I’m afraid we aren’t a match.

Ouch. I’d reached out electronically and was rejected. Why doesn’t he like me? I wondered as I brushed my teeth before heading to Central Park for my morning walk with the dogs.

Is that a zit on my chin?

The morning light in my bathroom coupled with a make-up free face was more than I could handle at that hour and add to that the rejection email. It was the perfect storm, a watershed moment ripe for contemplating the significant things in this winter of my life.

You’re old. You need Botox.

I spent the next hour trekking around the park with the dogs. It was a quiet morning and I moved with a rhythmic stride—I was in the zone and my mind was sharp as I added and subtracted.

If I eat only Trader Joe’s veggie burritos for a month I think I can afford half my forehead.

Desperate times and all that and I knew by the end of the walk I would figure out a way to make it happen. I’d do some creative accounting and a frozen forehead would be mine!

SUCK IT, SUZE ORMAN.

I don’t know about you but I’ve had it with her big mouth. She’s always yelling at me through the television about what I can’t afford.

Hey, Suz, I’m 50 and single. Reality is I can’t afford not to.

When I returned from my walk I responded to the email, thanked him for getting back to me and wished him well. I felt so mature. Still a little hurt, but an adult nonetheless. I’ve had my share of those same sorts of replies to my rejection emails and I thought I’d share a few.

This is from a man who is separated. I don’t date men who are going through a divorce. There’s inevitably a natural anger that accompanies that process and I’d rather wait until it is over.

Here’s what he wrote:

Hi Melanie, 

First, I’d like to thank you for emailing me back. In my short experience with this online dating thing, not many people have the decency to do so even if the response is not a positive one…contrary to what their profile indicates by the way. I certainly understand your concern. I hope my divorce gets finalized soon, before some other lucky guy sweeps you off your feet! When my divorce is final, you’ll be the first one to know, even before my Mom. :-)  

Cheers, 

Bill

Here’s another from a man who lives outside Manhattan:

Hi Melani,

That was very nice for you to email me. I wish it were for a date lol. I do understand you only want to meet men from NYC. Have a very nice weekend and hope you find your true love.

All the best,

Steve (On the other side of the Hudson River!)

Here’s another from a man who was older than I want to date and I found a way to say it with kindness:

 Hello Meani,



Thank you for the kind words. Good luck in your search as well.

Best wishes,

James

PS. I can think of (10) spontaneous ways of surprising you, just by paying attention to you. Please remember that if ever someone tells you they’re trying. I don’t know you and I came up with ten.

Yet another from a man who just wasn’t a match:

All I can say is that your note was the nicest ever “thanks, but no thanks, take a hike, go jump in the East River” note I’ve ever received. That was very nice of you. While I wasn’t sure myself, ready to book at flight to Vegas and book the Elvis Chapel for our $50 marriage, I was hoping for at least a drink. Please at least consider it sometime soon. I’m off of 1st / 92nd Street and the worse that could happen is us both having met a new friend. If we were to meet, I can’t however guarantee that you would not be charmed and think me to be funny and cute! :-) 



Good nite!


Joseph

I reminded myself of all the men I’ve not felt would be a good match and decided it was OK if that guy wasn’t interested. I wasn’t going to waste a moment personalizing it and realized as a mature adult, knowing why exactly he didn’t find me irresistible was irrelevant. I was feeling proud of my newfound respect for everyone’s right to choose.

This is the way grown ups handle these situations, with kindness and dignity!

Then I noticed a new email message in my inbox.

Here’s all it said:

U LOOK LIKE GLYNTH PATROW

Really? Glynth Patrow? In all caps so he’s screaming the wrong name at me? That’s the best he could do? I was instantly transported from The Land of the Kind Adult to the Town of Mean Girl and my fingers responded accordingly.

Here’s what I wrote:

You’re a douche.

Precise, and yet the cursor hovered over the Send button. I was going to press it and then I grew up. Did I really want to write that? Did I want to hurt his feelings when he was trying to be nice? Let’s face it; the person who should be most upset about his email was Gwyneth Paltrow. I’m sure she would figure he forgot to end his sentence with the word mother.

I back spaced and deleted my message and instead wrote the sort of thing I normally send.

Here’s what I wrote:

Thank you for your interest, that was a very nice thing to say. Unfortunately, I’m afraid we aren’t a match. I wish you much success in finding the perfect person. Thank you again.

I hit send, logged out of the dating website and took my seat at the grown ups’ table.

If you’re reading this and you want to help repair my damaged ego, click here to Like my 1 Year of Online Dating Facebook page.

“Age is a very high price to pay for maturity.” Tom Stoppard

Profile Police: Be Nice

“Be nice.” I’ve been told that so frequently that when I got the iPhone with Siri I told her my name was Be Nice so every time she addressed me I’d be reminded of something that doesn’t come naturally to me. I don’t think I’ve ever heard, “The word I’d use to describe Melani, is nice.”

Honestly, I can live with that.

It’s not that I’m mean—really I’m not. It’s that I’m direct and don’t like to waste time dancing around the truth with niceties.

I’m the person who listens while someone goes on and on trying to be diplomatic and the voice in my head is screaming, GET TO THE POINT. I am very aware of this shortcoming. There’s a big part of me that wishes I could be different, but I’ve been this way since childhood and I don’t see it changing now.

As strange as this may sound, I am hypersensitive to rejection. As a new writer I’ve been rejected so many times it makes me wonder if I’d started this at a younger age where I’d be today. I imagine I’d probably be curled up in the fetal position, babbling in a corner or adjusting my multi-colored hat to go to work at Hot Dog on a Stick. “Screw writing, I’ve made manager!”

I try hard not to make any of the men who reach out to me on the dating website feel rejected. Sometimes it’s tough especially when I look at their photos and wonder, You seriously think we’re a match? I’m well aware that I’ll never be mistaken for Christie Brinkley, but when a guy looks like Quasimodo he might want to lower his expectations just a tad.

I’ve noticed a pattern with certain men. I receive an initial email message and send them a response—in the nicest way—letting them know we’re not a match. Usually I can figure out some way to do this where I don’t feel I’m being hurtful. Most of the time I use my standard, “As my profile states, I only want to date men who live in Manhattan,” line. Then, a few weeks later, I’ll get a second email message from many of those same guys. I don’t know if they are sending out so many that they don’t realize I’ve already told them no, or if they figure they’ll give it another shot.

Either way, it is annoying and my second rejection is always blunt. I normally don’t hear back from them after email number two, but there’s always the exception.

A month ago I got an initial email message from Gustavo, a man living in Elizabeth, NJ, whose profile emphasized his Portuguese heritage. Gustavo wrote that he had lived in Toronto many years ago, just like me. We had that in common!  I wrote him back with my “nice” email letting him know that we weren’t a match. This week I got the second email message from him. Our correspondence is below.

Hi

We allready have one thing in comom,i lived in Toronto as well.

Gustavo

OK, so spelling isn’t his best attribute, but I remembered him immediately based on the profile photo. Let’s just say he’s not in the running for People Magazine-Sexiest Man Alive cover.

Here’s my response:

You emailed me before with the same “Toronto” message. I told you we weren’t a match.

Whew, that’s taken care of. Or at least that’s what I thought, but Gustavo had more to say.

Here’s his response:

Hummm….You must have a crystal ball then

You could be right…I could be too good for you,i have only had 6 women in my life in bed,and maybe you had that many men in one week??? 

And i am a guy that drives a 200.000 dollar car and lives in a 1 million $ house with a governant

YOU ARE RIGHT,,I COULD DO BETTER THAN YOU

Sex with six men in a week? If that were true I’d be much nicer—really I would. And what the hell is a governant? It sounded important and I wanted to give Gustavo the appropriate props. I even tried using a Google translation tool–Portuguese to English–but no luck.

Here’s my response:

Hi Gustavo,

You’re right. You are much too good for me. I live in a small rental apartment and drive a 2007 Prius that I’m considering getting rid of since it’s expensive to keep a car in Manhattan. A man who has a million dollar home and 200K car should never slum with someone like me. I’m not even into jewelry. I’d never appreciate a man like you who probably showered those six women you’ve been with in diamonds.

When you emailed me previously I told you that I only wanted to date men who live in Manhattan because it gets complicated very quickly with a commute. Since you live in Elizabeth, it would be difficult. I guess you didn’t remember that you sent the previous email about a month ago with the same riveting intro about Toronto. But, you have me figured out now. How did you know I was lying?

Here’s the truth. I’m not attracted to you. Physical attraction is important to me–probably since I’m a loose woman. As shameful as it is to admit, I’ve had more than six sexual partners. Once again, you have my number. Honestly, Gustavo, there’s not enough money in the world nor expensive homes or fancy cars that could get me to crawl into bed with you. I’d rather be homeless and living in my Prius than fucking you in your million dollar home.

Best,

Melani

Nice. Definitely not one of my attributes and I never heard back from Gustavo.

If you’re enjoying these posts, the conversation continues on the 1 Year of Online Dating at 50 Facebook fan page. Click here  to like the blog and remember how I feel about rejection.

“I wouldn’t date you if you had a diamond studded asshole.” Aili Bennett (my 74-year-old widowed grandmother to an unkempt 80-year-old man who flirted with her)

 

Profile Police: No Photo–What a Wuss

I think there should be an online dating rule that those who don’t post photos should only be able to contact those who do the same. Why should I be at a disadvantage when receiving an email message from someone who has seen what I look like but I can’t see him?

I do understand, if a person has a public position where their face might be recognized or if it might jeopardize his or her job. One such situation happened to a man I know. He is a teacher at an exclusive private school and he was told it is unacceptable to participate in online dating. I guess if those situations occur, a photo should be included with the initial email.

It always makes me wonder if the person without a photo is married. A common statement in numerous profiles I’ve read is, “No photo, no response.” I’m seriously considering that addition. Especially if I have another exchange like the one below.

 His first contact:

like your profile. You seem really nice and very intellligent…clearly pretty. Happy to send a few pics if interested. Live near Princeton…work midtown NYC.

Best,

Sam

I’m already annoyed with no photo, especially since he’s mentioned my looks. His profile was the longest I’ve ever read, filled with paragraph after paragraph of why he’s so great.

My response:

Hi Sam,

 I’m catching my breath from reading your profile. Whew, just a tad wordy, but some parts did make me laugh. Sorry to hear you live outside of Manhattan. I’ve tried dating outside the city and there’s nothing spontaneous about a commute. I do like spontaneity. 

After rubbing my eyes and drinking a glass of water immediately following your dissertation, umm, I mean profile; I admit I am curious as to what you look like. Especially since you’ve certainly made it clear that you’re a catch.

I’ve often wondered why someone would be on this site without a photo so maybe you can answer that burning question?  

 Best,

Melani

I don’t think my response was a hit. Here’s his:

Hi Melani,

I don’t post for the simple reasons that a) internet dating still unfortunately has an undeserved negative stigma …and I don’t care to see my profile and mug posted in company cafeteria and b) I’m not a fan of or practitioner of the ‘open kimono expose all of oneself to 7 billion strangers” Facebook culture.

Best,

Sam

I’ve never liked anyone who makes his or her point with the alphabet. A) Sam, you annoyed me before. B) You just said in your “A” that the negative stigma is undeserved and followed with your “B” about exactly why it should have a negative stigma. C) Now I’ve shifted from annoyed to completely irritated.

Here’s my response:

Hi Sam,

Thanks for answering my question. I believe you’re living in the past with the stigma you think is associated with online dating. There is not one unattached person I know who hasn’t tried the online route–and all post photos. Seriously, I doubt that if I had no photos you would have sent me an email. The desire for physical attraction is only human. Unless you normally only respond to females with no profile photos, but my writing was so compelling that you broke your rule and decided to reach out to an open kimono sort of girl. Hmmmmm.

Best to you too,

Melani

Cue the music and let Cyndi Lauper wail. Sam is going to show me his true colors.

Your writing was so compelling?…..Paleeeeeeez.

And Sigmund Freud you’re not…..go analyze someone maybe you do know…that woman in the mirror.

Get over yourself.

 Sam

Ps….my guess is you’re one of these types that thinks they know everything and constantly giving stupid unwanted advice…to everyone….here’s a hint: your friends, co-workers and family hate it….they’re all just too nice or too afraid to say it to your face.

Pss…did you ever stop to think that I may send the exact same intro email to everyone?…its all about cut and paste….not ‘compelling’….you Knucklehead

Never trust a guy who ends an email with Pss.

OK, Sam, these gloves are coming off. I think I hear distant strains of Hall & Oates. What are they singing? Ahhhhh, yes, “Maneater.”

OK, first of all I was being facetious when I wrote about my “compelling profile.” I wish this site had a sarcasm font for the more remedial (read: mindless) members. I know exactly why you contacted me and it had nothing to do with my writing. You contacted me based on my photos because if I looked like, say, Eleanor Roosevelt, I wouldn’t have heard from you. That’s precisely why you have incredible audacity to contact any member because of a physical attraction without a photo of your own. But, I can tell you’ve got an over inflated opinion of yourself from your ridiculous profile and your belief that you’re such an important guy that coworkers will post it in the cafeteria. Give me a break. 

Oh, and I’m writing a blog about my online dating experiences. Thanks for giving me some great material with your email messages. I think my readers will enjoy this exchange, but since I’m a knucklehead I could be wrong.

I wonder if Sam realized in his intro email–which he sends to everyone, cut and paste–he misspelled intelligent?  Yep, I’m adding “no photo, no contact” today.

“I may be dumb, but I’m not stupid.” Terry Bradshaw