Entries Tagged 'reader mail' ↓

Where I’ve been…

I’ve received a few messages regarding my whereabouts. Some folks who seem to come onto this site merely to tell me what a terrible, horrible person I am (and please, don’t stop coming – you’re all my special little snowflakes) have implied that I have run out of material.

Not so.

See, I don’t make money from this blog. Therefore, I need to pay the mortgage somehow. This is where my job comes into the equation. We’ve been busy lately, which is something for which I am very, very thankful. In fact, I’m currently staring down the barrel of a few more projects. Good times indeed.

In addition to work, there has been my personal life. I had hoped to start posting again last week, when I was off for Thanksgiving weekend, but there were some family issues that came up – family issues that culminated in a funeral.

I have been on a few dates recently. More about those later, though.

Anyway, I can’t say for sure that I’m going to be back and posting every day or every week for that matter, but I am still here. It’s just that life is a funny thing – it has a tendency to happen.

A quick diversion

People have been asking me about this, so I guess I’ll address it:

In case you’re wondering, yes, I am still single, and I still have active accounts at various dating sites. On one, I have gone through 234 matches in the last seven months. That’s right, I did the math. You’d think the law of averages would take effect at some point here. Or the thing about a million monkeys at a million typewriters eventually producing the works of Shakespeare. I mean, come on fate, throw me a bone here.

Although, when I think of a million monkeys in one room, typing away, all that comes to mind is how unbearable the smell must be.

Anyway, I’m still looking. When I find her, I promise you’ll be the first to know.

Reader Mail

Hi Sam,


I met this fellow last year through plentyoffish.com, one of the two major free online dating sites. At the time, I was 27 and he was 25. We’ll call him “Tom.” Tom started off sending me a message through the site saying that it was really too bad that I’m a smoker, because he so thoroughly enjoyed reading my profile that he would have really liked to go on a date. Not really sure how to respond to this, I replied that I was sorry to hear that and that his own profile seemed nice and I was sure he’d find a nice non-smoking girl out there some day. This was my polite way of advising him that, while I am fully aware of the risks of smoking, if I am ever going to quit doing it, it will be because I want to, not because some man wants me to.

Tom didn’t seem at all dissuaded by my apparent brush-off and went on to say that he could easily be friends with a smoker and wanted to know if I would be interested in chatting via IM. We exchanged IM information and talked for a week or two. Tom was very intelligent, and things were going fairly well so far, but I was a little put off by how Tom frequently wanted to get together RIGHT NOW for an impromptu lunch/dinner.

Eventually we planned to meet for dinner. Things went fairly well, though something was still a little “off.” We met up for a second date, and this time he said that he wanted to continue our date after dinner and go somewhere else. I wasn’t busy that evening, so I agreed. He wanted to go to a bookstore. I thought that was an unusual destination for a date, but I had already agreed, so off we went.

We reached the specific bookstore where he had requested to go. I noticed that he didn’t seem to have any specific objective in mind. He wasn’t going to a particular section in the store. I started wandering around a little and looking at various books. After a short time, Tom seemed to see something and made a beeline for a counter. I followed. He had a friend working there. His friend was very much a stereotypical “nerd” and he introduced us. We spent only a few more minutes in the bookstore before Tom requested to go to another store which seemed an equally random request. Upon reaching the next store, Tom once again, remarkably, knew someone working in the store to whom he wanted to introduce me.

Suddenly the desire for ice cream seemed to overcome Tom. We were near an ice cream place, but he wanted to go to a DIFFERENT ice cream place a few miles away. I should really have realized where this was going by now, but I naively agreed. Sure enough, Tom had a nerdy friend working at the ice cream place.

As the evening was winding down and it was time to take Tom back to his car, we passed a movie theater where I had once made the mistake of ordering extra butter on my popcorn. I told Tom the story and ended the tale with “What I ended up receiving was a bucket of butter-flavored soup with real popcorn bits.” Now, I realize that such a remark would likely elicit a chuckle from most people. However, from Tom, I received a few second of dead silence, followed by an uproarious belly laugh which resonated throughout my vehicle and was promptly followed up with “You’re so quotable! Real popcorn bits!”

This was not the first time Tom had laughed inappropropriately hard at a remark I had made, but it was certainly the creepiest.

I realized at that point that I had to figure out a way to end things. I am a bit of a geek by most peoples’ standards. I can usually fix my own computer, I can hold my own in a “Kirk vs. Picard” debate with “Sisko,” and I have played mutliple MMORPGs. However, being taken around town on a world tour to be introduced to all of a man’s nerdy friends in an effort to prove that he actually knew a girl was a bit much, even for me. After receiving a barrage of text messages the next day while I was at work to tell me what a great time he had and how he couldn’t wait to see me again, I decided that I had better call Tom on my way home from work that day to break the news to him.

I was not at all cruel. I elected not to point out the odd tour he’d taken me on or the apparent hero-worship he had for me after only a couple of dates. Instead, I focused on the fact that he reminded me very much of a good friend whom I could never see myself dating (this was also true, although the friend in question would never engage in such bizarre behaviors). He was not at all happy. He stammered for a bit, but I remained firm. Eventually, he thanked me for “the line” and hung up. I never heard from him again, despite his initial assertions that he only wanted to be friends.

All in all, Tom was a sweet guy with a lot of very positive attributes. Things might have turned out differently if he hadn’t been quite so over-the-top.

Sincerely,
Simone

Thanks for your e-mail, Simone. I’ll admit, sometimes it’s definitely easy to fall victim to the quick and easy infatuation that is a hallmark of online dating. And some people, well, they fall hard. Really hard.

Tom was one of those people. I’m sure, like you said, he’s a sweet guy with a lot of very positive attributes, but I’m guessing he didn’t get a lot of second dates, and that’s probably because he puts it all out there so quickly. It’s really a shame, some people just need someone to tell them this.

I understand why you did what you did, Simone. You were trying to spare Tom’s feelings. But here’s the thing — when two people want to go in different directions, feelings will be hurt.

I’ve got a friend who recently went through a divorce. The divorce itself wasn’t too difficult, as it mostly involved signing papers. However, getting to the point of actually saying, “this isn’t working and I don’t see any other solution” was a nightmare. She kept waffling back and forth, saying her now ex-husband could change, “if he just got a better job,” or “if he just got his degree,” or any of about a dozen other “if he just…” statements.

The thing is that people can change, but they have to be the ones who want to initiate that change.

What it always came back to was the fact that this friend didn’t want to hurt her ex-husband’s feelings, and she didn’t want his family to hate her.

One day, after hearing this song and dance for the thousandth time, I finally went off on her.

“It’s a failed relationship,” I told her. “You’re both miserable. Just because things didn’t work out the way you had intended doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you human. Staying together isn’t going to help anyone — it will only prolong the misery for both of you. And, you know what? Things are going to suck. Feelings are going to be hurt. Perhaps, in the future, you guys can be friends again, but for now, you both just need to be away from each other.”

Here we are, nearly a year later, and she and her ex-husband are divorced. And they are on civil terms. They’re not best friends, but they don’t want to gouge each other’s eyes out, either.

What does this have to do with Tom and Simone? Like I said earlier, Simone, I understand why you did what you did. You wanted to spare Tom’s feelings, and I don’t fault you for that one bit.

However, from the guy’s perspective, I don’t see that as being the only option.

Some people won’t change until they are motivated to do so themselves. I hope, somewhere down the road, Tom either finds A) someone who isn’t scared off by his weirdness (and don’t get me wrong, homeboy is weird,) or B) someone who dates him for a while and then breaks things off, and tells him, in plain terms, how over the top he is, and how that’s the reason she’s breaking things off.

It’s what Dan Savage calls the campsite rule. Realize that you’re probably not going to spend the rest of your life at this “campsite,” so you should leave it better than you found it when you arrived, so others may enjoy it in the future.

Thanks for your letter, Simone, and keep reading!

If you would like to tell me about one of your misadventures in online dating, send me an e-mail — samsingleguy [at] gmail [dot] com.

Reader Mail

If you have a story about your online dating experiences you’d like to share, type it up and send it to me — samsingleguy [at] gmail [dot] com. I’ll publish it here for all the world to see.

Note: you may want to change names to protect the not-so-innocent.
Dear S.S.~

As a member of a few online dating sites, I am quite a fan of your blog. I received this e-mail yesterday and thought I would pass it along. I didn’t make this up. After reading it the only thing I could possibly think was “what?” Looking at it again, I’m pretty sure Santa just asked for a booty call in an e-mail through a dating site.

Single Sam, Thank you for not resorting to this type of behavior while trying to find a lady.

Sincerely,
Charlotte

Dinner with Santa?

The reindeer and I will be in Festus for two weeks while the sleigh gets serviced and I thought it might be fun to meet some of Santa’s helpers while I’m here.

In all seriousness I am traveling on business and thought I might as well get as much use out of this service that I am paying for as possible and hoped you might take advantage as well.

I am simply looking for a sweet lady who would like to go out a time or two while I’m in town and have a good time and show me the sights. I’ll even spring for dinner.

I’m not looking for anything more then a fun date unless lightning struck and fireworks go off and in that case you could always move to the North Pole or I could open Santa’s workshop in Missouri.

I love movies, country and western dancing, I can waltz and jitterbug (swing) as well. I’m open to any fun event ide as you might have you only need bring a smile and well yourself.

So please feel free to take advantage of a nice guy willing to buy you a meal. After all who would deny Santa Clause even in September.


This e-mail came with a picture of the offender, who looks NOTHING like Santa. He is nearly twice Charlotte’s age and lives several states away.
The first thing I noticed was a spelling issue. Santa Claus is a jolly old soul who brings presents to children at Christmas time, whereas (The) Santa Clause is a crappy Tim Allen movie. Learn the difference, people. Secondly, the guy who wrote this probably thought he was being funny, but somebody really needs to let him know just how damn creepy this is.
It’s people like this guy, the self-proclaimed “Santa Clause” from an unidentified southern state (think about where Pee-Wee went to look for his bike) who make me feel a lot better about myself.