1. There are a LOT of people looking for love.
2. Some of them are really pretentious.
3. One of them deigned to IM me.
I now give you the story of Dr. Douchebag.
He liked my pics, called me hot. Haven't heard that since the days of Ex-calibur, so I went with it. Even after he gave me crap for not knowing the capital of Qatar. Yes, he's that guy.
Shoulda been my first clue.
What shoulda been my second clue is when he asked for my number AFTER I suggested we meet. Now, I engaged in a discussion (re: friendly argument over beers at our neighborhood dive bar) with Rock and his new friend 2.0 last night about this. I don't want to talk online for weeks and weeks with some dude and get my hopes up, only to meet him and find out the energy's just not there in person. I'd rather figure it out after a few emails.
In short, I wanted to meet this guy and he wanted to talk on the phone with me first.
I said fine, just give me your number and a good time to reach you. He said no, insisted we exchange numbers.
Shoulda been my third clue. You can probably see where this is going.
So it's the next day, 11 a.m. and I'm talking to my coworker. I happen to have my phone with me and it starts vibrating with the sounds of Dr. Douchebag. I could practically hear "capital of Qatar" in the brrr brrr brrr.
This would have been whatever, HAD I NOT TOLD HIM I HAVE A 9-5 JOB.
And the kicker? He didn't even leave a gotdamn message.
Done.
Except not quite.
I'm at a bar last night, gearing up to perform in a dance show, when I get another call, a voice mail, and a text message asking if I had received said voice mail.
Egged on by my fellow dancers, I responded in kind:
"Got your call and voice mail. Thanks, but I think you'd be better off with someone who knows the capital of Qatar. Because I don't, and I am totally cool with that. :)"
Instead of taking my smartass response as a hint, Dr. (Clueless) Douchebag thinks my feelings are hurt by his Big Manly Intellect and sends a looooong text message about how he thinks it's just so awesome I work where I do, and since Qatar was all over the news with the World Cup, he thought my poor little feminine brain would know the capital, and can he buy me a drink to make up for it.
Then he called again and left a voice mail AGAIN. To make sure my texts were still working, I guess.
Rock and 2.0 suggested I ignore it. My very smart roommate said that was only going to encourage Dr. Douchebag. So I sent him this:
"Got your second call and voice mail. Thanks, but this is not going to work. Please do not contact me again." Implied: or I will call the cops on your pretentious stalker ass.
Dr. Douchebag's response, not ten seconds later:
"Our loss."
UGH.
So what has formerly naive, now slightly more savvy Doris learned, boys and girls?
1. It's okay to be picky! Listening to your instincts does not make you a bitch, it makes you smart.
2. Don't give someone your number right away. Especially if they're pushing you into it.
3. There are guys out there who will NOT make fun of your lack of obscure geographical knowledge and your 9-5 office job. Some of whom, in fact, have been messaging you!
Three days in and this online thing is fun, but kind of overwhelming.
No more Dr. Douchebags, though. That skeevy ship has sailed.
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