I’m chomping down on a hearty heap of “Lawd, I never thought I seen the day.” Because while we’ve all gotten too caught up on someone we’ve had just one date with and overreacted when things didn’t work out, we were at least smart enough to not let the object of our desire know we were disappointed. Just like in the movies after the assassin commits murder, he wipes off the gun, disassembles it, throws it in the river and keeps it moving, when one is rejected after one date, the rejectee must not leave traces of the crazy: no desperate emails, no pathetic text messages, no planned “accidental” run-ins with the object of our desire. Unfortunately, Mike, an investment manager, forgot about this and let his crazy flag fly and sent Lauren, a young woman he went on one date with, a 1,600+ word email that got leaked online, went viral and landing on The Huffington Post. You can read it here.
Bottom line, this is how Mike should have reacted to Lauren blowing him off after date number #1:
That’s right, he should have put on his fanciest sequined black tank top, rubbed some Icy/Hot on his bruised ego, plopped down on his couch, and flipped through a magazine. Not do the email equivalent of this:
Sixteen hundred words??? Mike, that’s sixteen hundred too many. Instead of sending the email, you should’ve turned on some music and lip-synced along to Chaka Khan’s I’m Every Woman (doesn’t matter that you’re a dude, pretending your Chaka will make you feel better. That’s science). Or you could’ve had a personal pan pizza delivered to your apartment, eaten the entire thing in the dark while watching TV, and then taken a picture of your now full belly and used that as motivation to start going to the gym again. Or, forgive me if this is a crazy idea, you could’ve just cried into a sock (that’s my euphemism for masturbating) like in American Pie. Do guys still do that or am I so 2000 and late? I mean, according to Yahoo! answers – which people use when they’re totally fine with only being 73% sure of something – men still use good old Hanes to get the job done. Glad that mystery is solved. The point is, Mike, you had a multitude of options besides coming off insane to Lauren.
Let look at some of the many gems in this ridonkulous email. And when I write “gems,” I mean cubic zirconias. First, you harp on how “disappointed” you are because she gave you signals that led you to believe she was interested. Such as:
“We had lots of eye contact during our date. On a per-minute basis, I’ve never had as much eye contact during a date as I did with you.”
Uh, yeah, about that. I thought on first dates, guys thought, “Boobs, boobs, boobs, legs, ass, vagina, naked, boobs,” but, apparently, you were thinking, “One Mississippi, two Mississippi, three Mississippi. I’m not breaking eye contact dammit. Shoot, where was I? Four Mississippi.” Maintaining eye contact isn’t much of an indicator of anything except that she was listening to what came out of your mouth hole and vice versa. It’s called having a conversation and that’s what people are wont to do.
Other things you mention as her leading you on: having nice conversation, saying it was “nice to meet you,” and that she played with her hair, which you made sure to add that if she doesn’t believe hair playing is flirting then she needs to Google it. Look at who’s putting the “ass” in sass. “Don’t believe me? Google it!” You think she’s going to go Google it, say to herself, “You know, he’s right. Let me make amends,” and then take you on a one way trip to 69ville? Also, what kind of people have you been dating where someone saying “nice to meet you,” means “lot of potential for a serious relationship?” #RealTalk, “nice to meet you” is the LinkedIn of conversation. If someone says, “Let’s be LinkedIn friends,” they’re basically saying, “It would be amazing if I never saw your face again unless you know about a job opportunity. And even then, Gchat me, don’t call.” “Nice to meet you” was the kiss of death, Mike.
Clearly, you decided it wasn’t, so after ranting about how Lauren never responded to your phone calls and texts, you turned up the creep factor:
“According to the internet, you’re 33 or 32…”
Hold up, hold up, hold up. “According to the internet?” You realize what the hell that sounds like, right? “After digging through your garbage can, I found out you eat Funyuns.” Yes, finding out a woman’s age is akin to finding out she likes flavored onion rings. It’s just none of your damn business. Furthermore, you don’t admit that you Googled your date. Over the course of the first date, you mention the things the person like, which you found out because of the internet, and then you go, “Me, too! That’s so crazy that we like the same stuff!” That is what grown ass adults do. We lie.
On the bright side, the email is not all bad. Some of your crazy came off funny, so you have that going for you. For example:
“(FYI, I’m not a serial dater. Sometimes, I’ve only gone out with a woman for one date.) People don’t grow on trees. I hope you appreciate the potential we have.”
Really? People don’t grow on trees? I half expected Mike to continue writing, “People don’t grow on trees. Actually, we grow because of trees. It’s called photosynthesis. Boom! Nailed it! Because I’m a philosopher/writer.” That’s right, Blaria readers, in addition to being an investment manager for his family, Mike is a writer/philosopher in his spare time.
Glad you found time in your busy investment management schedule to work on all those books you haven’t published.
But let’s get down to brass tacks. This email is really about your bruised ego and insanely high expectations. You got too hung up on a woman because she has cute hair and likes classical music, which is your number one requirement for a dating partner. If she ain’t into classical music, she’s got to go. #WhitePeopleProblems.
Anyway, the point, we’ve all been let down when the possibility of a relationship that we created in our head based off one date with a person doesn’t happen in real life. It stinks when you think you’re having a great time with someone, but they feel like someone threw boiling hot grits on their naked body (See: Al Green. Moral of story, don’t keep grits in your pantry if you’re gonna have an affair with a woman and refuse to marry her. Also, don’t be naked around her ever. Just poke a hole through a bed sheet or something when you have sex). That’s just the way dating goes. But when your interest isn’t reciprocated, you nut up and move on with your life. And maybe hate fuck someone you meet in a bar. Kidding! Besides, you can’t hate fuck to Yo Yo Ma. Again, #WhitePeopleProblems.