Muppet Boy

This dating dairy starts with Muppet Boy. The guy really looked like a muppet - there was something just not quite right about his face. His eyes, or nose, or something -I’m not quite sure. Not that he wasn’t somewhat attractive. He was, clearly, attractive enough for me to agree to go out with him; and, his facebook pics with his ripped torso didn’t hurt, either. Who would have known that he looked like that under his clothes (?!)- I’d initially thought he was just skinny.

I was kind of excited. I hadn’t been on a date in roughly 2 years. I thought I was done with the dating scene; and having gotten myself into quite a debacle (2 years earlier), involving a dude I was dating, a gay friend, my (male) best friend, his girl friend, his female friends and somebody’s gay lovers - I’d decided to take a break. At first it was nice to take a break from dating, but after a couple years, I really started to wonder why I couldn’t get a date. . .

Back to Muppet Boy - So for our ‘date’, he offered to make me dinner. Now, I don’t trust guys’ cooking, so I told him I didn’t want him “to go through the trouble”, but he insisted.
Man, was it disgusting. Dinner consisted of a very mushy salad with loads of goat cheese and strawberries. Um, that’s not dinner. I guess at least he tried. After dinner, and a couple of martinis (he was no bartender), he offered to give me a massage. O-kay buddy - I’m no idiot. This guy had no intention of getting to know me - he clearly just wanted to get down my pants.

When I told him “no such thing was about to happen”, he went cold on me (!) - at this point I channeled my friend Gillian, I’ll show you, I thought. Long story short - we had sex for hours - this guy was like the freakin’ Energizer bunny! Every imaginable position - he was sweating like a pig - and he could keep going for hours. And the best part was, I didn’t have to do a thing - I had no intention of putting any effort in - I mean, why bother with a one-night stand? He was quite the giver, and man, did he give! I had intended on leaving after sex - I’d hate to spend the night - but I was so exhausted I must have passed out.
Huh. Who knew I could be so easy? Well, Muppet Boy, for one...
Thing was, he knew NOTHING about me. If he knew me, he would have been too intimidated to approach me. He didn’t know where I worked, where I lived, if I was educated, my hobbies, interests, nothing! In fact, as far as he knew, I could have had a boyfriend. He really didn’t care.

I came to, in the middle of the night - so, what the fuck, why not fuck again? Which is what we did, after which we somehow passed out. Did I mention his entire apartment was full of giant mirrors, including a mirrored wall at the foot of his bed? Fuck, I had no idea I looked so hot in bed. Did I also mention that he had an amazing body, and a rather ample sized member. Definitely helped.

During the course of the night, I found out the dude was a cuddler. Aarghh! The horror! I do not cuddle! And definitely not with someone I have no intention of dating. Eeyuck! Every time I tried to pull away, he’d pull me tighter. Fuck, he must be lonely. How the fuck was I supposed to sneak away with him holding me? I must have lay awake for 2-3 hours, before dozing off.

In the morning, we decided to fuck again. After 45 minutes, he went limp, and I was ecstatic - I couldn’t have any more sex! I was still sore from the marathon all night. “That’s okay,” I consoled him faux-apologetically.
Unfortunately, he went hard again, and we fucked for another hour.

I left his at 10 in the morning. I was so fucking sore, I had bruises and bite marks on my arms and legs, my core muscles hurt like I’d been doing crunches all day.

All in all, an excellent prelude to a fresh chapter of serial dating.

Until next time,
YPhilotes

The Rules

Hi. My name’s Dani and I am a serial dater. Why? Because I can be. It’s not like I’m a commitment-phobe or anything, it’s just very difficult to find a man worth committing to - and it’s not like I haven’t tried.

It’s interesting how attractive, womanizing men are revered in our society; yet, if a woman does the same, she is labeled a 'slut'. I beg to differ - ‘dating’ is not the same as ‘sleeping’ with multiple men. And sometimes, if the shoe fits . . . no harm done.

I'm not gonna lie - I’m a shallow person and appearances are very important to me. However, regardless of how attractive a man may appear, most still manage to bungle up the first date.

If you are wondering why I never called you, or why I blew you off after (or even during) the first date - see below:

jhkj

1. NEVER is it okay to ask me to pay for the date. Never.
2. Dressing bad. And, I mean very bad. A major deal breaker for me.
3. Boasting about your threesome adventures. And asking me if I’d do a ‘three-way’.
4. Bragging about how hot your ex-girlfriends were. This does not impress girls. In fact, it makes you out to be a loser - no matter how hot and/or wealthy you are.
5. Not caring to find out a single thing about me. Speaks for itself. It’s pretty clear what your intentions are.
6. Fawning over how ‘gorgeous’ you think I am. Once is nice. Twice is still good. Anything more than three times can become irritating.
7. Following this by telling me how you find my bitchiness sexy. Not cool. Grow some balls.
8. Asking me for a ride home.
   
9. Trying to kiss me when I’m disinterested - I’m not playing hard to get, I really don’t like you. If you’re wondering why - see (rules 1-8) above.
10. If I put out on the first date - I have no intention of ever seeing u again. Sorry. It’s not like guys don’t do the same thing.

jhkj

Women, take note - most (not all) men are scum. I have learned that the majority of guys on first dates are not interested in you at all - they just want to get down your pants. It helps if you’re eye candy for them and especially helps if you appear to have money - the latter helps you attract more successful types - but, they still have the same goal as their bourgeoisie counterparts. Although, sometimes, it's okay if that’s all they’re good for . . .

Think about it.

Until next time,
YPhilotes