Bellow

tales of a girl in the city

mars 23, 2004

On Ricki Lake this afternoon guests will "debate the constitutionality of same-sex marriages."

I plan to be there for every. Intellectually Stimulating. Moment.

Therefore, this will be brief.

Let me say that I received an email on Sunday from the on-line dating service that I had formerly been part of, informing me that I was eligible to sign up for the service again AT NO COST.

I am normally not a sucker for such things, but--well, this weekend I was. The Con-Artist Formerly Known As Unicorn Fiasco really threw me for a loop. I was in need of a little love, a little hope. A little joy.

Also, I just really want to be taken out to dinner.

AND since, when I go out in real life, no one talks to me. Ever. I figured I'd live dangerously and take advantage of my three free days of the wonder that is on-line dating.

Mistake.

Big one.

Obviously.

This morning, my email was filled with these:

Hey u--

Read your profile. U r so cute. Lol. Think we might have some things in comon. I luv travel, sports, and exploring the city. They're is so much 2 see here. Let me know if u wnat to see it with me.


Now, I think we bloggers all know each other well enough to be REALLY honest by now. To be--for lack of a better phrase--blatantly fucking cunty.

So.

I MEAN, COME ON.

(And, as long as we're at it: You. Over there on the left. Mini-skirts are not for everybody. Repeat after me, "Mini-skirts are not for everybody.")

My profile uses the word "magnanimous." Not in a pretentious, uber-academic way, but--it's in there. Nothing is misspelled. As on-line profiles go, it's pretty outstanding. And I get fifteen-plus variations on, "I'm way cool and into you pretty ladey"? (Southern Belle Boob was trying to get me to write back to that one. She is a sucker for anyone who tells her she's pretty. Cheap hussy.)

And, on the other side of the spectrum, there was one guy who, aside from mentioning that he was Ivy-League educated about--let's see--once a SENTENCE, actually told me his IQ. Like this:

Greetings,

I am an Ivy-League educated, extremely successful bachelor, looking for a girl who can keep up with me intellectually (IQ 157). I played squash and tennis for my Ivy-League University...


I know, I know. I am being whiny and bitchy BUT I DON'T CARE! I am a great catch. I am smart and pretty. I know the difference between "there" and "their" and "they're." And there are a lot of total wackos in this city. Really crazy people, who do all sorts of screwed up things!

British Boob: Right-o!

Southern Belle Boob: But, Honey, all I'm sayin' is, beggars can't be--

Shut-up. *hits Southern Boob* Shit! Ow!

British Boob: Now, Now. Tut, tut.

You too. *hits British Boob* Fuck!

erm....

What was I saying?

Oh.

um.

Never mind.

Anyway, I gave up my free days. Not gonna use them. Waste of time.

...

I have to go watch Ricki Lake now.