Disappointment At First Sight

Silvia was born in Switzerland and moved to the United States as a young girl. As an adult she'd lived in Indonesia for a few years with her ex husband, who went there to study under a spiritual teacher for a while. She was 39, had a young daughter, looked very nice in her profile picture, despite being gap-toothed. She cared for her daughter full-time, and I wondered if her ex supported her and her daughter. Or perhaps she'd inherited a fair bit of money. How else could she afford to live in Marina del Rey and not work?

We hit it off very well on OK Cupid and later on IM. By the time we were to meet we were talking about passionately kissing each other when we met, and joking about fogging up the car. We decided to meet at a Scandinavian bakery in Culver City. She had set aside a couple of hours before she had to go somewhere else to meet a friend. 

The bakery was small and spiffy, but had no pace to sit. So I waited for her outside. When she appeared she looked even more attractive than I'd imagined. She wore a tight top that revealed her ample, firm breasts, a flat stomach. But as soon as she saw me, I sensed a flash of disappointment, a momentary flicker of hesitation in her approach towards me. I knew then that this was going to lead nowhere.

As we went inside the bakery, she was uncommunicative, and I made up for the silence by making small-talk. Finally she said, "I've been wanting to check this place out for a while. I hear great things about their pastries. I'm going to get some for my daughter."

She proceeded to pick a box of assorted pastries to take home and one to eat there. I offered to pay for everything, and she did not hesitate. We took our pastries and went to a small park nearby where we sat on a bench and chatted. She opened up slowly, eventually becoming cordial. But at no time did I detect any warmth or enthusiasm. And certainly none of flirting we'd indulged in online. But I braved on. She had time to kill and I kept hoping I'd warm her up enough. 

After finishing our pastries we drove to a nearby Starbucks where we sat and had our teas. The conversation was a little forced. We were searching for topics to discuss. Eventually, I decided that it was close enough to her time to go on to her next appointment (perhaps another date?) and suggested that we make our way back to the car. As I drove her back to her car, I decided I was going to clarify if she was just normally this standoffish, or was she genuinely not interested. I jokingly asked her if we could kiss. The long, pregnant pause answered my question. After what seemed like at least 40 seconds, she said, "Okay, but just a peck." And she leaned forward politely and gave me a peck, which I accepted graciously. 

"Would you like to meet again?" I asked as I dropped her off.

"Yes, of course," she said. "The next few weekends are difficult for me since my ex will not be around to take care of our daughter. But we can meet after that."

I handed over the box of pastries I'd bought her and waved her goodbye. As expected, I never heard back from her. Nor did I bother contacting her. 

Wanted: The Perfect Man

Here's an excerpt from a woman's profile on OK Cupid, typos and all:

"Tall, extremley attractive, intelligenant, in shape, loving, understanding, and crazy passionate. Will always make time to remind me he is thinking of me. Gentleman in everyway, opening door, flowers, love letters etc. Brave, protective, open minded, gentle and powerful. "

I presume she's just as ideal as the mythical creature she's seeking. What chance do we mere mortals stand in the face of such lofty expectations?

Boxers or Briefs

Okay, so this debate has been going on for years. I don't know that there's a consensus on this, although I'm told by reliable sources that boxers are sexier. I've always been a brief-wearer, and -- don't laugh -- in particular tighty-whities. Not that I choose them, but they're just the default: plenty of them on store shelves, it's what you reach out for. Who cares about what you wear under your clothes, right?

Wrong! My friend Karen gently told me how uncool and unsexy these white briefs are. The emotion with which she seemed to hate them was a revelation. 'Wear boxers,' she said. 'Women love men in boxers.'

So I bought myself a few boxers. I've worn one on every date. And, guess what, I've not been lucky even once! Every woman I meet these days seems to want a friend to hang out with. Or wants to take it slow and get to know me. Or wants a brother. So much for sexy boxers. They don't even give me an opportunity to show them off. They're ill-luck! I'm going back to my tighty-whities. To hell with you and your advice, Karen!

The Queen Who Expected Suitors to Come to Her Doorstep

One of my friends in Northern California emailed me recently.

'MAT,' he said. 'You're biased against men. Most of your blog entries show men in poor light. We're not as bad as you make us out to be.'

'Moi?' I asked. 'I'm neither anti-male nor anti-female. Or, looking at it another way, I'm equally anti male and female.'

'Yeah, then why aren't there more stories about women who act like shit?'

'Give me some.'

And so he did. Here's a recent experience he had chatting with a woman on OK Cupid.

She was a primary school Principal, who lived in Oakley, a rather distant suburb of San Francisco. She was white, had two teenage sons, divorced after 24 years of marriage to her high-school sweetheart. Went through a period of post-divorce dating binge, and was now looking to normalize her dating life. An avid walker, she said she walked over 80 miles a month, which is pretty good.

My friend lives in Sacramento, about 60 miles away. But he's in the San Francisco Bay Area often, multiple times a week. While Oakley isn't quite on his way to and from there, it's close enough off his commute route that he figured if they hit it off, it would be worth it.

The conversation was good, and soon they took to texting.

'I envy your summer breaks,' my friend wrote. 'Are you going anywhere this summer with your kids?'

'I might go to Mexico with a gf.'

'where in mexico?'

'went to puerto vallarta last year and cancun before that. i don't care where we go. it's cheap, easy and always fun.'

'is it cheap even in summer?'

'yes, it's hot there. think spring break is more popular.'

'let me know if you decide to go. i might tag along as well. ok, ok, i'm only joking. don't get worried.'

'i once dated a guy for a month and he said that he couldn't remember my last name. that's because i never told him. high security.'

'you are careful, aren't you?'

'yes. online is riskier for women. dated a guy once and later discovered that he'd been to prison for 10 years. i'd even been to the hills with him. fortunately, he was nice to me. but it did make me more cautious.'

'you know that statistically i have an advantage over other guys. indians in america don't go to prison as often as some other communities.'

'true. GF said statistically i was bound to date a man who'd been to prison when i was dating mostly black men.'

'oh, you know what they say: once you go black, you never go back.'

'proved the myth wrong.'

'have you ever dated an indian guy?'

'no, but you could be the first.'

'want to make it a reality this friday?'

'i can meet you in the morning.'

'at what time?'

'before 11. need to leave by noon.'

'hmm. traffic from sacramento can be bad at that time. let me think.'

'would the weekend work better?'

'friday is fine for me. doesn't take too long to meet. i usually set aside an hour.'

'don't know yet if friday would work. but i can confirm tomorrow.'

'no worries.'

'great. kids with your ex today?'

'no, they're home. i BBQed hamburgers for them. went out with gf to salmon.'

[Hmm, my friend thought. Isn't that a bit odd that a mother would give her kids unhealthy, cheap food and go out and eat better food with her friend?]

'okay, i think i can make it on friday morning. would 10am work for you?'

'yes. tell me where.'

'would walnut creek work for you?' [My friend figured that he'd have to drive about 50-60 miles to Walnut Creek and she could drive about 25 miles to meet him there.]

'nope. apparently you're not familiar with hwy 4. plus, i don't drive that far to meet men i don't know. told you you were too far for me.

'i assume you're implying that traffic on 4 is bad. if so, we can meet somewhere else. but i do want to clarify if your reluctance to drive there is due to lack of sufficient enthusiasm. if so, please let me know. i'd hate to drive that far if you're not terribly enthused about meeting.'

'not willing to meet in walnut creek on a day i have to be back soon. different if i was meeting you and staying to shop or even go from there to the reservoir in lafayette to walk with my gf. not the other way.  sorry. isn't going to work for me.'

My friend was taken aback by the rather bitchy, inflexible response.

'you clearly have a very rigid approach to dating,' he wrote back. 'good luck!'

'don't like the judgement here. 'rigid' seems unfair.'

'well, i was going to drive a long way to meet you. i even offered to meet you somewhere more convenient to you. but you seemed very definitive in what you were willing to do. to me that's rigid.'

And there ended that conversation.

'You see,' my friend wrote to me. 'She wasn't willing to put in any effort into this meeting. This is the queen mentality. A sense of entitlement. How many times have we men been strung along by women who have either no intention of meeting them, or aren't terribly interested? It's like they'll chat with you as long as they're bored. Once they find a more amusing diversion, they'll make all kinds of flimsy excuses to not meet you, or worse, not respond at all.'

'True,' I wrote back. 'We've all experienced that.'

'I'm glad I found out how interested she really was before I made that long trek. Can you imagine how infuriating it would have been to drive all the way there, only to find out that this woman was just passing her time engaging in idle chit-chat with me?'

True, brother. We've all encountered women like that. I have always believed this: there are just as many lousy women on the dating circuit as there are lousy men. The probability is high that we've all run into them. We have also been them: lousy at some point in the dating process. There's nothing else we can do other than to dust it off and move on.

Discreet Relationship

I received this from a reader who wishes to remain anonymous.

--------

Hi, I came across a profile of a man's naked torso on Tinder. That was the only picture in his profile. Normally, I would have swiped left. But I wanted to find out what his story was. So I swiped right. And sure enough, we matched. His profile read:

I'm tall, white, fit, fun, and lots of fun! I love to travel, run, read, and snuggle. I'm very adventurous! I'm attached and looking for an open minded girl that would like to explore a discreet friendship. Im tallbaldnhandsome@yahoo.com

During our conversation he reiterated the need to be discreet. He asked me for an email address to send his pictures to. I was tempted to give it to him, just to see what this creep looks like. Then I hesitated. I didn't want him to have a way to contact me. Who knows what other deceptions he's capable of? Instead, I thought it would be better to distribute what he has publicly shared about himself. Perhaps someone more strong-willed than me would be willing to try to track this guy down from the public information he has put out there.

Best,

Anonymous Tinderella

Has Your Doctor Cleared You for Sexual Activity?

I know that some people ask for and offer to show medical reports stating that they're disease free as a pre-condition to having sex. But I've never been asked before. Until recently. I'd met Alicia on Tinder 2-3 weeks ago. She's African-American, well-educated, mild-mannered, a little plump, and is a school-teacher.

Our first meeting was at a Starbucks out in the suburbs. We had a good conversation, went for a stroll afterwards and kissed in the car. She was an unabashed kisser, which is always a turn-on for me.

The second time we met near where she lived. We went for a stroll in a park. Again, the conversation was good. While I can't say I thought we had a lot in common, we certainly felt comfortable with each other. We ended up making out. There wasn't anybody around, so I got to feel her DDs under her blouse. She loved the way I pinched her nipples.

"Won't this be better indoors?" I asked her.

"No, not today. If we'd made plans in advance I'd have been prepared."

Bummer! But I had to leave by a certain time anyway. So we walked back to where I'd parked. And as I was about to get into the car she said, "Maybe you can come in for a few minutes." She smiled.

Even though I had to leave, I wasn't going to let this opportunity go. So we went up to her apartment. She lifted her blouse and let her pendulous breasts dangle in front of me. I sucked them, and she moaned.

"I want to make love," I whispered.

"Me too. But next time. You have to leave now."

I had to. I was already running late. I hastily got up from the couch, tucked my shirt and hard penis in, kissed her and left.

That night she texted me, "Do you have papers from your doctor?"

"No," I replied. "Never needed to. I did get myself tested a year ago as part of a routine physical. I'm clean."

"Sorry, but I need to see recent papers."

"I understand. So this means we're not having sex yet, right?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

I did understand her request. She was just being careful. And yet it made me uncomfortable. It's about trust. I remember feeling similarly uncomfortable when a woman I once met asked me for my ID to prove that I am who I claim to be. I refused to do so, not because I had anything to hide, but because the lack of trust indicated to me that this wasn't going anywhere. If I did not trust a woman I meet either for her life's story or her past sexual activity, I don't put myself in a position to be tempted by sex. I have actually refused sex on a number of occasions because I wasn't sure I fully trusted the women. If you can't trust someone, how can you get intimate with them? It's a contradiction to me.

So even though I liked Alicia, I reluctantly decided not to see her again. She's a nice person, and she has good reasons for asking what she did, but this just isn't for me.

The Man With An Ugly Wife

Gabriela was having fun busting married men on Tinder when she matched with a 39 year old man and they got chatting. It started off pretty normally, but she was sure he was anything but straight with her. So she decided to try the ruse.

G: i must tell you upfront that i'm still married, although we're going through a tough time. if you don't want to chat any more, i'll completely understand

Usman: i am separated but not divorced yet

[Aha!]

G: how long?

U: we applied for divorce in jan. i did what you were doing for 3 months before applying for a divorce, so oddly i understand

U: what do you mean how long? i think 7 inches lol

G: i meant separated for how long

U: since jan

G: what happened between the two of you?

U: she had an affair

G: as did you

U: nope. what do u mean as did you?

G: you said you did what i'm doing for 3 months before applying for divorce

U: oh... let me be more specific. after her affair, she suggested i have my own affair and we can still live in the same house for the sake of the kids

G: ah, ok. is she arab too?

U: so i started chatting online. but i realized that it is not what i wanted. yes arab and ugly if i may add

[Wow!]

G: why did you marry her, then?

U: i fell for her inner beauty

G: what was her inner beauty?

U: brains. she was smarter than me. she even has small boobs... so it wasn't her figure

[Nice! Classy! The man is obviously a gift to women, with an attitude like that.]

A Short and Sweet Conversation

My friend Rebecca had the following conversation with Andy, a 33 year old Caucasian on Tinder. His profile picture was that of his bare torso, taken in the bathroom mirror with a cell phone. But she swiped right, anyway, to see how far he'd go.

Andy: Sup tinder girl
Rebecca: Sup tinder boy
A: nice tits
R: thanks
A: wanna meet for drinks?
R: perhaps
A: n have sum fun
R: what kind?
A: u know the usual
R: what is that?
A: i fuck you hard from behind
R: nice
A: i can be there in 30 minutes
R: isn't it already late?
A: nah u won't regret it
R: how can you be sure
A: baby i'm the best
R: i'd like you to prove it
A: gimme ur address
R: some other time. it's too late tonight
A: what a bitch!

We Men Are Jackasses

Men on dating sites are more fun to write about. Because they're more entertaining. You women out there have it good. Endless hours of entertainment for free. I experienced this during the time I pretended to be a woman on Tinder, and I've seen the conversations some of my female friends have with their suitors online. 

There are, of course, the gentlemen, but also a lot of jackasses and hoodlums. It's the jackasses that provide the most entertainment for the money; the types that try too hard to be cool or funny or suave. E.g., "Hey, baby, there are only 21 letters in the English alphabet." "No, there are 26." "Oh, right, I forgot to include U.R.A.Q.T."

Women don't say shit like that. They don't need to. Men have too much competition. There's too much pressure on them to preen like a peacock, to stand out in the crowd. And their attempts to do so can often be comical, desperate and pathetic, sometimes all at the same time. It's only when you look at these conversations from the point of view of a woman do you realize how stupid we men can be. I'm sure I've done those things too. Perhaps still do, without realizing it. But I've also become much more aware of it. I don't try too hard. It's not worth it. If a woman isn't very responsive, or does so in monosyllables, move on. Just be yourself. Have some pride. If she's interested, she'll show it. You can't elicit enthusiasm when there's none. If a woman isn't willing to put in even a little bit of effort into the wooing process, she's probably not worth it. I don't like princesses. Royalty is an anachronism. Besides, aren't we supposed to be in an age where men and women are equal? In addition to all the things we normally associate with equality, what it also means to me is that women need to put themselves out there too, be willing to take rejection, be spurned, lick their egos and get back into the game. Or at least, make it easy enough for us men that we don't have to be jackasses to get your attention.

How to Bust a Married Man on Tinder

Tinder can be entertaining, as long as you don't take it too seriously. But there appear to be a lot of married men on that app. One day, when my friend Gabriela and I were hanging out, she showed me a few of the conversations she'd had with guys on Tinder. As I read one of them, I remarked, "This guy is married."

"How can you tell?" she asked. "He says he's single."

"I can sense it."

"That's total BS. Women have a stronger intuition about these things."

So I told her to write to this guy confessing that she was married, but that her marriage was strained. And to apologize for wasting his time. And sure enough, the dope fell for the ruse. "No problem," he wrote back. "Technically I'm married too. So no issues."

"Wow!" she exclaimed. "This is so simple!"

This guy happened to be Indian, visiting from Australia on a business trip.

"So you're just looking for a no strings things?" she wrote to him.

"Yes, just fun," he replied. "Casual fun."

"You aren't getting any action at home?"

"Not enough. Haha! She's very conservative."

"I can understand your situation."

"Good. I like you."

He had an unusual enough name. So I asked Gabriela to look up his name on LinkedIn. And sure enough, his profile and photo came up. So now we knew which company he worked for.

"Tell him you're with a friend visiting from Sydney who's also Indian."

"Why?"

"Just do what I tell you and watch the fun."

She did.

"Nice," he wrote back. "Have you known her for long?"

"Yes, a very long time."

After a few more messages back and forth, I took over from Gabriela.

"OMG," I wrote on Gabriela's behalf. "I was just showing my friend your profile and she says she knows you!"

"Really?" he wrote back.

"Wow, she says she knows you and your wife. Don't you work for XYZ company?"

There was what I image a stunned silence for a few moments. The he wrote back, "Who is this friend of yours?"

We waited for a minute or two before responding. "Sorry, I was talking to my friend. Wow, she's furious to find you on Tinder. She's threatening to tell your wife. I'm trying to calm her down."

"Oh, wow! I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to get you into trouble. I'll try to convince her to stay out of this. But just in case I don't succeed, you should bring this up with your wife first before she hears it from others."

"Oh, what have I done? I didn't mean any harm. Please tell me the name of this friend. Please."

"She told me not to tell you. Don't worry, I'll talk to her. But you should go back to your wife and get out of this app asap."

"I will," he promised. And vanished.

Gabriela looked at me dumbfounded. "You're evil!" she exclaimed and burst out laughing. "Evil genius!"

I'm afraid I've unleashed a monster. Since that day she has tried this on numerous men and has gotten most of them to admit that they're married. The template is very similar. Chat for a bit with the guy. Put them at ease. Then admit you're married. Most of the naive ones, or those eager to cash in on the no-strings-attached nature of getting entangled with what they thought was a married woman, eagerly admit to being married as well. Then with some additional information they carelessly provided, she looks them up on the internet. If she finds additional details about them, like their current employer, she uses it to bolster her story of how a friend of hers recognizes them. Most of the men apparently crumble and plead with her to not expose them.

She has talked about this with a couple of other friends of hers, and they too have reportedly successfully used this trick to weed out the married guys. I don't know how all of this is going to end. If  these men wise up to this trick, it will stop being effective. But, on the other hand, the more men believe they've been exposed, the less they're likely to prowl dating sites and leave the field to us single men, who're getting increasingly crowded out by the married ones.

Riveting Conversation

My colleague Rebecca here in New York is a treasure trove of Tinder experiences. She once matched a guy called Jim on the app. He was 51, photographed standing next to a BMW. The conversation went as follows:

Jim: Hi
Rebecca: hi
J: hi
[Okay, that's odd, thinks Rebecca. But what the heck.]
R: hi
J: hi
[Rebecca decides not to respond. But a few minutes later he writes back.]
J: hi
R: hi
J: hi
R: do you plan on saying more than hi?
J: nmw Lpn wwm
J: a lot more

[She never responded to that. After a few more futile 'hi's, Jim disappeared too.]

Trash-Talk

My friend Gabriela recently had the following conversation with a guy called David on Tinder. He was 31, white, looked well-dressed in his pictures, and so she'd swiped right.

David: Hi there, nice pics

Gabriela: thanks :)

D: lovely smile

G: thanks :)

D: nice tits

G: thanks

D: how big are they?

G: how big do you think they are?

D: 42D

G: they go back and forth between a C and a D

D: nice nipples too?

G: normal, i think

D: i want to suck them

G: in good time

D: do you have a shaved pussy?

G: yes

D: can i lick it?

G: yes, at the right time

D: where to you live?

G: hayward. you?

D: sf. 

G: what do you do?

D: i'm a consultant

G: what kind?

D: corporate. do you have a nice ass?

G: what does corporate mean?

D: tell me about your ass

G: i've told you a lot about my body already. tell me about your job

David disappeared. Obviously, he'd blocked her and moved on to someone more amenable to his kind of conversation.

Activists on Dating Sites

So a man sends a woman an unsolicited photo of his dick. Nothing unusual about it since a lot of women have had this experience. But what's different is what this woman did in reaction. She forwarded this picture to his mother on Facebook!

I was talking to a woman friend of mine the other day. She said she agreed with my occasional activism on dating sites. Her argument was: who are we to judge the bad behavior of other people? I think that's a very reasonable and magnanimous position to take. I admire her ability to tolerate, or at least brush off, bad behavior. I'm less tolerant. You don't want to be a mad warrior, raging against real and perceived insults, large and small. But, on the other hand, by not speaking out against egregious behavior, are we not encouraging it or being complicit in the act?

The challenge is, what constitutes egregious behavior? When does well-intentioned activism cross the line and degenerate into vigilantism? And what effect does this have on the target and those around them? So when this woman forwarded the dick picture to the man's mother, did she just teach the man a lesson, or did she also shame his mother in the process? Did his mother have to see that picture for him to think twice about doing this again? How do we know that the man even felt any remorse or shame?

I don't have a clear stance on this. I have indulged in what I think is 'activism'. But it is possible it's just a mean-spirited way of taking revenge on unsuspecting individuals for perceived insults I've been at the receiving end of. Who are we to judge?

Another Woman's Experience with a Married Man on Tinder

Here's an interesting blog post by Emily Macintosh, who was contacted by a married man on Tinder.

Categorizing Men on Tinder

So I interacted with quite a few men on Tinder during the phase when I pretended to be a woman. In addition, my female friends have been very generous in sharing their experiences on the app with me, often showing me the actual conversations they've had. At the risk of generalizing (which I certainly am doing), the men on Tinder fall into one of the following categories:

1. The Decent Sort: Yes, my friends and I (while pretending to be a woman) have run into many men who could be regarded as decent, cultured guys. That is not to say they're averse to being a bit naughty and frisky after they feel comfortable with you, but by and large they respect personal boundaries and conversations are mostly PG-13. They come in all colors, shapes and sizes. If a woman is serious about a relationship, she should be looking for these guys, even if it means seeing beyond an unflattering picture or two.

2. The Thug: Usually Black, White or Hispanic, this man is often pictured with a bare torso in the bathroom mirror (a nipple ring thrown in for good measure), with jewelry around his neck or in his ears, with low-riding pants/shorts, has lots of tattoos, unkempt facial hair, and looks like Bluto. A non-trivial number of them have pictures of themselves giving you the finger, which must be very attractive to a certain kind of women. Conversations often turn crass within the first 5 minutes.

3. The Blue-Collards: Usually brawny, with luxuriant goatees and mustaches, they possess unusually large heads, which doesn't necessarily translate to knowledge. Many have tattoos and/or unusual hairstyles. Some sport guns and wear baseball caps backward. Like the thug, they're usually Black, White or Hispanic.

4. The Softy: Usually Asian, these are the delicate featured men with little or no facial hair and smooth skin. You can often tell those that are fresh off the boat by their mildly clueless look. I've been told that this category is not highly sought after by most non-Asian women in the United States. So I imagine that they either mate with their own kind or go to bed at night wondering what a white woman feels like.

5. The Adventurer: Of all races, this man is often pictured sky-diving or bungee jumping, standing atop a molehill that's made to look like Mt. McKinley with basic photography tricks, indulging in a strenuous sport, or camped on an isolated crag.

6. Mr. Schwarzeneggar: Usually White or Black, Arnie is often seen pumping iron, with bulging biceps and naked six-packs. He is likely to have a large cranium that protects awfully little. If he's also an adventurer, he may be pictured preening around a beach or playing baseball. Has a hard time keeping a conversation going.

7. Look, I'm Cool: Usually Indian, this guy often tries too hard to appear cool by being pictured with the one token white friend he has, or next to a BMW or skydiving. He usually also has a silly, irritating, ingratiating, lascivious grin, and addresses you endearingly as baby. He may also use an English-sounding name that simply does not go with the rest of his persona.

8. The Invisible Man: Of all races, this man is often posts highly pixellated pictures of himself or that of others, like kids, cartoon characters or beach-balls. You flip through the half a dozen or so pictures in his profile, hoping to find out how he looks, and you come away disappointed. Suffice it is to say, they usually have a reason to not reveal their identity.

9. The Married Man: Of all races, but for some unusual reason, often Pakistani, Iranian or Arab, he may also be an Invisible Man. But sometimes he's bold enough to post clear pictures of himself, and, on occasion, his wife too. Sometimes he'll readily admit to being married, but more often than not, he'll insist he's divorced or is separated for all practical purposes, whatever that means.

10. The Oil Slick: This man almost always belongs to one of the other categories as well. He always suggests, implies, rarely says what he wants to. Usually wants a hookup, but won't say it. He'll ask you out without quite asking you out. He'll ask you for dirty pictures without quite asking for them. Plausible deniability is his modus operandi. He'll drive you crazy trying to decipher his code-language. This man comes in all colors, shapes and sizes.

11. The Bore: Often a nice guy, may even be good looking, and of all races. But this man cannot keep a conversation going beyond a few variations of "How's it going?", all of which he tries within the first couple of minutes of the conversation and then falls into a coma.

12. The Traveler: Yes, we've all fantasized meeting people of the opposite sex while traveling. Let's admit it, uninhibited, anonymous, temporary dalliances can be heady, ego-boosters. I've been a traveler myself and have met some wonderful women along the way. My interactions with most of them have been completely platonic, but some do get sexual. It's interesting how many women are willing to meet the traveler and live vicariously through him. Often they show him around, invite them to their homes & their families (as has happened to me), give him a glimpse of the local culture. But not all travelers are out to meet people as people. Many just want to hook-up, which they may or may not readily admit to. Most of them strike out but brag about their imaginary conquests to their buddies upon returning home.

Another Married Man on Tinder: Post-script

A few days ago I wrote about my friend Gabriela's encounter with Omar, a married executive on Tinder. The day she showed me the conversation I decided not to blow his cover. But the more I thought about it, the more I was puzzled. He was an executive at a big company, lived in a very expensive town, had apparently done quite well financially, was socially well-connected. Why would a man with so much to lose personally, professionally and socially be out there on Tinder with pictures of him & his wife, using his real first name with which it was terribly easy to track him down online? Is it hubris? Stupidity? A sub-conscious need to get caught?

The next time I hung out with Gabriela and a couple of other friends, I decided to probe this further. Sitting next to her, I asked her to chat with him. He responded quickly. I'm paraphrasing the conversation since at the end of the session he either deleted his profile or blocked Gabriela, so the entire conversation vanished.

Gabriela: I think I know who you are.
Omar: yeah?
g: yeah. i know where you work and what you do. given the highly visible professional role you have, you are very bold to put your profile out there.
o: stupid is probably a better word
g: yes, i agree. you have a lot to lose personally
o: i know.
g: either it's a rookie mistake or a bill clinton like arrogance that you're not going to get caught
o: it's neither.
g: or sub-consciously you wanted to get caught
o: how did you find out?
g: remember i was telling you about my friend rukshana, who's also from pakistan? you said you know a few rukshanas
o: yeah?
g: i was curious. so i asked if she knew you and showed your profile. she recognized you. she knows you and your wife.
o: oh
g: i didn't mean to get you into trouble, but since you said you know a few people by that name, i was curious. what were the chances that she'd know you?
o: i see
g: i think you should start doing damage control.
o: ok. how?
g: tell your wife about this before she hears from ruskhana. i told her to keep quiet, but she was outraged to see your profile.
o: my life is over.

[Both Gabriela and I started to feel sorry for this guy.]

g: i wouldn't go so far. it's better for you tell her than for her to hear it from someone else
o: but i didn't do anything
g: you told me all the different kinds of women you've slept with
o: yes, i did. but it's not true. i just joined to check out tinder. i haven't been with anyone other than my wife
g: it's hard to believe that
o: it's true. i haven't done anything
g: tell your wife that
o: ok
g: have the conversation before the rumors and innuendoes reach her. good luck
o: thanks. i need that

With that he was gone, and so was his profile. Whether he actually told his wife about it to pre-empt any conversation with Rukshana, I don't know. But I suspect he's already punishing himself enough and is not going to be looking at other women for a while.

I'm Popular in Pakistan

For the first time today, I've received more visitors from Pakistan than the USA. Usually over 90% of my visitors are in the USA. But that's been changing over the last few weeks. I have no idea why so many of my visitors are based in Pakistan. It's hard to say if these visitors are actual human beings or bots that crawl the blog daily. My suspicion is that it's the latter, because I see no logical reason for my popularity there.

Another Married Man

Gabriela, a Brazilian friend of mine, has been on Tinder off and on for a few weeks. She recently showed me the conversation she'd been having with a married guy from Pakistan. What's with married Pakistani men on Tinder? Here's the transcript....

Omar: hey hey
Gabriela: hey hey
o: having a good weekend?
g: yes, thanks. you?
o: great
g: is that your wife in your pics?
o: yes
g: does she know you're on tinder?
o: no
g: ok. have you met anyone from here yet?
o: yes, i have. does that bother you?
g: does it bother me that you have met others?
o: no, that i'm married
g: not really. so what's your story? why are you looking for a relationship outside your marriage?
o: variety
g: where are you from originally?
o: middle east. you?
g: brasil. where in the middle-east?
o: pakistan
g: pakistan is not the middle-east
o: well you just proved you're smarter than 99% of americans. yes, that's true
g: then why do you say it's the middle-east?
o: because when i say indian subcontinent or near east asia, they think i'm indian. what part of brazil?
g: so you'd rather that they think you're arab than indian? from rio
o: carioca
g: you must really dislike india to want to be associated with a culture that's alien to south asia than be associated with india
o: no, i think you're reading too much into my response. asia is a big place
g: you could have simply said you're from pakistan :) that's a far simpler answer than the one you gave. lol
o: i did
g: anyway, do you have kids?
o: yes
g: nice, how many? i don't have any
o: 2, boy and girl. are you married?
g: wow, that's the image of a perfect family, isn't it? no, i'm not. divorced.
o: how long?
g: 2 years
o: how long were you married?
g: 10 years. how long have you been married?
o: 15.
g: have you ever considered divorce? or do you still love your wife?
o: i've never considered it, still love her. however strange that may sound
g: ok
o: what bring you on tinder?
g: a friend of mine suggested. so i just signed up to see how it goes. do you have a steady girlfriend?
o: no, i don't
g: ok. no FWB?
o: no, i don't
g: then what happened with the women you met from here?
o: not what i was looking for
g: what are you looking for?
o: FWB
g: ok
o: you?
g: fwb or a steady boyfriend
o: got it. i can't be steady...lots of travel and real family life. can you be discreet?
g: how so?
o: i mean, keep a relationship secret.
g: sure, who am i going to tell? just my friends. if you want a discreet relationship why put a picture of you and your wife?
o: yes, i'm about to fix that. frankly shouldn't be on tinder
g: you or your pics?
o: haha. both probably
g: what kind of work do you do?
o: i'm in tech
g: like a programmer?
o: no, i'm a senior exec. i did that earlier in my career. i'm a business person at a tech company
g: nice. i'm an accountant. where do you live? i'm in hayward
o: i'll be precise this time. palo alto
g: lol. i see that you've done quite well to be able to live there
o: i can't complain

The conversation then petered away. At this point, the devil in me woke up. I wanted to indulge in some mischief. I asked Gabriela if I can do a quick search. I did, and the very first click led me to his professional website, with a picture of him in it. Another married guy, who's so damn easy to find on the internet. He turned out to be a Vice President at a large high-tech company. Wow, he really was senior executive. Why would someone like that want to cheat on his wife on Tinder in such a public way? I was tempted to ask Gabriela to blow is cover, but decided against it. I don't know why. Perhaps I'm not the devil after all. :)

Another Rude Woman on Tinder

A reader sent me the following recent experience he had on Tinder...

------------

Browsing through Tinder profiles, I matched with a 37-year old woman called Zanna. Her profile stated the following:

"Fueled by Passion!!! New to SF, originally from Latin America, (A+ if you guess where), expat. Multicultural, genuine, a geek in disguise. I am a dreamer, a giver, a thinker. Believe that life is short but possibilities are endless. Love and kindness can guide us and open doors.
Be real, open, free. Perhaps we meet soon...
No-no: hook-up, married, poly, bi."

So I initiated a conversation. I know how women like it when men have read what they write about themselves.

Me: are you from colombia?
Zanna: No
Me: where are you from then?

After a delay of a day, this was her response...

Zanna: You should have something on you profile before asking me more questions

Yes, her profile and the conversation has been reproduced verbatim, complete with all kinds of errors. Now how do you react to conversation like that? I mean, she even invited men to guess where she's from. I guessed. Incorrectly, as it turned out. But did she have to react this rudely to someone trying to make normal, harmless, respectful conversation? What an idiot!

Women Behaving Badly

We mostly hear about men behaving badly. The constant refrain from women is that men are pigs, they are unthinking oafs, have no manners, just sit around guzzling beer and farting. And all they want is a booty call. Yes, men do all these things. But how come we don't hear about women who behave in an unsavory manner?

I was recently stood up by a woman. We'd been chatting for a couple of weeks on Tinder and we decided to meet for coffee. We'd decided to meet at a cafe near where she lived, which is about 40 minutes from my home. I was there on time. But she never showed up. I was pissed off, of course. But there's not much you can do.

I was telling a friend of mine who lives in the Bay Area about it and he told me that it happens to him regularly. He'd been stood up twice in the past month, and had another date cancel on him with no explanation the day before they were to meet. He gave me specifics of these women and thought I should write about them on my blog.

The first was a 48 year old woman on Tinder who goes by the name Matrice. She lives in Dublin, CA. They'd decided to meet at a Starbucks near her town. The day they were supposed to meet, someone close to him had a medical emergency and he spent the day helping them out. He called his date a couple of hours prior to tell her about the situation and warn that he might be late for their date. She didn't pick up the phone, but he left her a message. But after re-organizing a bunch of things, he was able to leave on time and called to let her know that he would be there on time after all. Again, he left a message. He waited at the Starbucks for 25 minutes, sending her texts, calling her number and getting her voice mail, sending her messages on Tinder. He received no response, neither that day nor any day afterwards.

The next was a woman on OkCupid whose screen name was maria557thecat. She said her name was Maria and that she lived in Antioch, CA. They'd made plans to meet once. But that morning she texted him saying she wouldn't be able to meet him since she had to spend the day with her sister. And then she proceeded to spend most of the day texting him. He was willing to overlook this and they planned to meet again a week later. My friend drove an hour to meet her in Walnut Creek, a town near where she lived, at a cafe. Two minutes after they were supposed to meet, she sent him a message saying she couldn't find the cafe. Which was strange, since the cafe was very easy to find. So he wrote back to her asking where she was and offering to guide her from there. But there was no response. He started getting suspicious as time went by. He went to her OKC profile, and lo & behold, the profile had disappeared. Still, her persisted. He called her, sent her more texts. The voice mail greeting at the number he called belonged to someone with a different name. Another suspicious fact. Obviously, he didn't receive any response to his voice mails or texts. After half an hour he knew she wasn't going to show up, and so he left. But the story doesn't end there. A few days later this Maria wrote back to him apologizing for not showing up. Apparently just at the very moment she was trying to find the cafe a friend of hers called with an emergency. And as luck would have it, as soon as she finished talking to this friend, her phone lost power. My friend, always willing to give people the benefit of the doubt, forgave her. They chatted for a few more days sporadically. He asked her out again. She never responded.

The third was a 52 year old woman from Roseville, near Sacramento, on Tinder called Laura. They chatted for many days and had a good conversation going. She seemed genuinely interested in him. They even sexted once, and she cummed while they were telling each other dirty things. The next morning she wrote to him apologizing for getting out of control the previous evening. They continued chatting, but he took care not to cross the line, lest she do something that would cause her to feel guilty again. They decided to meet. He was going to drive 2.5 hours to meet her. The day before they were to meet he texted her asking if they were still on for the weekend. She wrote back saying she was driving to Southern California with her kids for a 4 day weekend and that they'd have reschedule. That was odd. She'd never mentioned any potential plans to travel even the previous day. And it didn't sound like an emergency that would require her to take a couple of days off. Still, he gave her the benefit of the doubt. They chatted through the weekend and the next few days. They decided to meet again the following weekend. But a few days before they were to meet, she either deleted her Tinder profile or blocked him. So he texted her phone and asked if everything was okay. She wrote him back saying she was just fed up of the idiots on Tinder, but still wanted to meet him. So they texted each other for the next couple of days and planned to meet at a specific restaurant in her town for brunch on a Saturday. But he felt something wasn't right. Her tone had changed. There was a loss of enthusiasm. So he decided to check with her the next day if she really wanted to meet him. After all, it was a very long drive for him to meet someone who may not be that keen on him. So he texted her: 'Good morning'

She: 'Did you get my message?'

He: 'Which message?'

She: 'I sent a message earlier. I'm afraid it's not good.'

He: What is it?

She: I just resent it. Did you get it?

He: No

She: If you got this message you would have got the other one as well

He: No, I didn't. Why would I say otherwise?

She: Anyway, I can't meet.

He: That's fine. I was expecting this. But may I know why?

No response.

Karen, the Penis Slayer

[Karen's an old friend of mine. We dated a couple of times, but we're now good friends. She's half-Filipina, has a nice rack, and looks like someone who fell into the jungles of Darien from the sky.

She has told me a number of stories about her dating life, some funny, some disappointing. But here's a hilarious one that one could not make up. Presented here with her permission...]

A few years ago Karen met this white guy called Russ on POF (Plenty of Fish). She's usually not attracted to white men (don't ask me why), but was bored enough the day he contacted her, so she responded to him. He was brawny, tattooed, wore an ear-ring, had a perpetually mocking smile. The kind who looked in control and controlling.

So they chatted back and forth, flirted and exchanged innuendos. He wasn't particularly smart despite his big head, and she imagined his voice was gruff, growly like a surly grizzly bear's. After a couple of weeks of chatting and flirting they decided to meet the following weekend for drinks not far from where she lived. But a day they were to meet, he sent a message saying he'll have to reschedule since he had a medical condition. Thinking it might have been an outbreak of herpes or something even more embarrassing, she asked gingerly if it was something serious. 'No,' he wrote back. 'Just an annoyance.'

'Not herpes, I hope,' she joked.

'LOL, no. I didn't want to tell you, but I guess I should. I get these uncontrollable nose twitches sometimes. Today is one of those times. It looks really weird, and I don't want you to run away.'

'Haha! Twitchy nose? Who gets those? Are you serious?'

'Yes, ma'am.'

'It can't be that bad.'

'Believe me, it is. Like a bird flapping its wings.'

'OMG, this is so funny. Sorry, I'm sure it's not funny to you.'

'That's ok. I'm used to that reaction.'

'So what do you do to make it go away?'

'Just let it run its course. I should be fine in a couple of days.'

If that was a lame excuse for canceling their date, at least it was a funny one. So she decided to give him another chance and they continued chatting online. Another week or two and decided they should try meeting again. Karen dressed up in a sexy-but-not-too-slutty dress and waited for him to come by and pick her up. But he didn't show up. With every passing minute she was sure that he'd stood her up. And this time he'd not even bothered to call her in advance and give her another excuse. She was fuming by the time she received a call from a man who said he was Russ' friend. He was calling to let her know that Russ was in a motorcycle accident on his way to pick her up. He was in the hospital, bandaged up. She wasn't sure if she could believe that story. But the friend sounded sincere.

'I'm so sorry,' she said. 'Can I swing by and see him in a couple of days?'

'I'm sure he'll like that,' the friend responded and gave her the name of the hospital and room number he was at.

A couple of days later she decided to go to the hospital and check him out. If he had indeed been in an accident then all was forgiven. When she entered the room she was taken aback by what she saw. The man had bandages everywhere as in a cartoon. He looked as big in person as he was in his pictures, but much less intimidating. And, incongruously, his voice was high-pitched, almost a squeak.

'I'm sorry this happened,' she said.

'It's life,' he said in his soprano voice.

'You're in a pretty bad shape.'

'I'm alive,' he said to the tune of Figaro, attempting a wry smile.

She sat and talked with him for a few minutes. 'You know what this means,' she said. 'Our date was just not meant to be. Maybe we're not meant to be.'

'No, no, no,' he said in alarm. 'I really want to go on a date with you. Look, as soon as I get out of here I want to see you on a proper date.'

'I don't know.'

'Is there something wrong with me?'

'No, it's not that. I just believe in omens.'

'There are no omens. A moron who should never have a driver's license rear-ended me. It was an accident. No, it was a clueless driver. You know how terrible Asian drivers are.' He stopped himself to consider Karen for a moment. But it was too late. 'Sorry, I didn't mean to say that.'

Karen laughed. 'Oh, I know what you mean. A lot of Asians are terrible drivers. But just so you know, I'm not one of them.'

He smiled at her. 'You're pretty.'

Uncharacteristically, Karen, a woman who's been around the block a lot, blushed. 'If I take out all your bandages I'm sure you're handsome too. Somewhere under there, if I can find you.'

They laughed. 'So we're on for another date?'

'Sure,' she replied and left.

A couple of weeks later he called her to say that he was better. And they decided they would meet the following day. The next day he did show up, still blue in the face and his arm in a sling, bent at the elbow at 90 degrees.

'Ready to go?' he asked.

'How did you get here with that arm?'

'Oh, I didn't drive. My friend did. He's there in the car.'

Indeed there was a man in the car parked on the street outside. He waved. She waved back. This was weird. The man had brought another friend on the date. Reading her mind he said, 'Pete is going to drop us at the bar and take off. He'll pick me up when we're done.'

'You know what? Let's not go to the bar. I don't want people to think I beat you up.' They laughed, he a bit nervously. 'You can come in. Let's stay in.'

He grinned. 'Sure.' He turned to his friend and yelled, 'Hey, Pete, I'm gonna stay here. I'll call ya when I'm done.' The friend grinned widely, gave him the thumbs up and drove off.

Karen shared a house with a couple of roommates. So she took him back to her room in the back. Her room was cozy, spare, with a bed and a desk. 'What are these?' he asked, pointing to some of her swords on the desk.

Yes, Karen owns swords, the way a normal human being would own utensils. She's a sword-collector. She has many of them: small, big, narrow, broad, some shining, others dull. On full-moon nights she pretends to be an ancient ninja and fights imaginary foes stark naked in the middle of the night. 'It is therapeutic,' she claims, although she has never explained what disease it cures her of.

'Swords,' she said.

'Seriously?'

'Yes, look!' She took a couple of them out of their sheaths.

'Cool!' he said, taking one from her and swinging it around with his one good arm.

'Hey, watch it! You can hurt someone.'

'Naww. I'm good at martial arts.'

'Really?'

'Yeah. I can handle all kinds of weapons. These are really cool.' He sat down on the bed and felt a few of the swords, running his fingers over the cold grey metal. 'You're cool,' he said, leaning towards her as she sat down beside him. 'And pretty.'

He put the swords down on the floor, pulled her toward him with his good arm and kissed her. He was a good kisser. Soon they were leaning against the wall, taking off each other's clothes and making out like a couple of horny teenagers. His couldn't turn too much towards her because of his arm. So she leaned towards him and as she started nibbling his lower lip he toppled over and fell on the ground, face down. The thud was immediately followed by his high-pitched shriek.

Panicked, she leaned over. 'What happened?'

But he only kept screaming.

'Shit, what happened? Did I hurt your arm?'

He wailed.

'Dammit, tell me what happened?'

He pointed towards his crotch, but kept yowling. She looked down and was horrified to see his penis soaked in blood.

'Oh my God, oh my God!' she screamed. She tried lifting him up, but he was too heavy. 'You need to go to the bathroom to wash the wound.'

But he lay there writhing in pain. 'Goddamit!' he yelled finally. 'These stupid, fucking swords!'

He'd fallen right on one of the swords on the floor. She tried to turn his penis to get a better look at the damage. There was a deep gash. It was still bleeding. She helped him to his feet and took him to the bathroom across the hallway. There she washed his penis and tried to staunch the flow of blood. One of her roommates, hearing the noise, came over and helped. They bandaged up the penis and waited to see if it helped. When they were convinced it had stopped bleeding, Russ got up and dressed.

'Look, Russ,' she said. 'the entire universe is conspiring against us.'

'No,' he insisted. 'It's a coincidence.'

'Think about it: first your twitching nose. Next, you fell off your bike. Now this. You're a cute guy, but we are not meant to be.'

He was silent. He finished dressing up, wincing as she helped him zip up his pant. He called his buddy, asking him to come immediately to take him to the hospital. They waited for him at the curb. When the friend arrived, Russ turned toward her, gave her a quick hug and left without saying another word.

Needless it is to say, she never heard back from him.

A Couple of Recent Conversations on Tinder

Here's a sampling of a few conversations with women on Tinder.

The first is a woman who had 4 pictures, but only 1 showed her face (assuming it's really hers). The others were pictures of her back and a palm tree.
me: hi, how are you?
woman 1: hi
me: you look lovely. where are you from?
w1: from around here
me: that's nice. but where are you from originally?
w1: isn't it too soon for such a personal question?
me: ok, sorry, didn't mean to intrude or pry.
w1: that's ok.
me: the weather is getting better thankfully.
w1: yes.
me: any reason you put up pictures that don't show your face?
w1: there's one with my face. that's enough to form an opinion.
me: true. but then why put up the others?
w1: is that a question or are you stating your opinion?
me: it's a question, which is why i ended it with a "?". :)
w1: never mind the semantics. you have only one picture yourself. :)
me: true, but it shows my face. i'm just trying to understand why anyone would put up pictures that don't show the most important part of a person: their face. but clearly you don't want to answer that. that's okay.
w1: i can't see your head in your picture.

[At this point I gave up. Even pulling teeth is easier.]

me: have a good day.

[And with that, I blocked this nutcase.]

------------------

This woman had a pretty face. We matched and I contacted her.

me: hi, how are you?
woman 2: hi
me: it's warm out there today.
w2: yes
me: you look like you're from some other part of the world.
w2: yes
me: where are you from?
w2: argentina
me: nice. i've never been there. but would love to go.
w2: yes
me: how long have you lived here?
w2: 10 years
me: nice. do you like it here?
w2: yes
me: what do you do? i'm an attorney.
w2: yoga instructor.
me: nice. do you have your own business?
w2: yes
me: you must be terribly busy with it then.
w2: somewhat
me: what hours do you work?
w2: depends
me: what form of yoga do you practice?
w2: ashtanga
me: ok. did you learn yoga in buenos aires?
w2: france
me: ah, so you lived in france?
w2: yes
me: for how long?
w2: 8 years
me: nice. i lived there as a child for a couple of years.
w2: ok
me: would you like to meet for coffee one of these days?
w2: sure
me: you live in XYZ?
w2: yes
me: we could meet over the weekend
w2: ok
me: or i could swing by during the day when i don't have too many meetings at work.

[I didn't receive a response to that. So the next day I contacted her again.]

me: hi, how are you today?
w2: good.
me: any plans for the weekend?
w2: no
me: sorry to ask, but should i interpret your single-word responses as an indication that you're not keen to continue this conversation?

[I never received a response. I mean, why the hell do you waste someone's time if you're not interested in having the conversation? It's not polite to string people along. It's more polite to simply not respond, or respond with a "Sorry, not interested". And why would you swipe right if you're not interested?]

Stupid Stereotypes about Men on the Dating Scene

Women have taken over the conversation on dating. They're the ones who usually share their dating experiences with friends as well as complete strangers. Consequently, it's their point of view that gets bandied about. It annoys me when women moan about their dating woes without an iota of self-reflection. It's always the same story. It's always the man's fault. Men are pigs. There are only lousy men in the dating pool. The few good ones are otherwise unavailable. And so on...

Every one of those lamentations and accusations is right. But it's also not the whole story. Women contribute to the situation as much as men. And, yet, this remarkable lack of self-awareness among the women who write about dating is staggering. I'm sure not all women are this dense. Unfortunately, the majority, the smart ones, those who see dating in all its nuances and contradictions, aren't the ones writing on this topic. And you end up with utterly one-sided and shallow articles like this one by Rebecca Stokes on CafeMom's blog, reproduced on Huffington Post.

Maybe this article caught me in a particularly intolerant mood, but I'm moved to rebut this article point by point.

1. The two-letter lover: Women complain incessantly about how men don't take the time to write them personalized notes. Having painstakingly sent literally hundreds of personalized notes over the years, taking up countless hours of my time, I can tell you that for all this moaning, women are particularly unappreciative of the personalized message. My average response rate across all dating sites is 1 measly response for every 40-50 personalized messages I send. And this includes notes that politely tell me to sod off. On the rare occasion that a woman has initiated contact with me, guess what they say in their messages? Yes, that's right, a simple "Hi."

2. Captain Overshare: admittedly, in this complaint, women do have a point. Not as many women show off their boobs as men do their junk. But you only have to go to sites like Plenty of Fish to see a number of women show off their bodies in bawdy and lascivious ways. There's tastefully done sexiness and then there's crass sexiness, a lot of which you can find on sites like POF.

3. Mr. Wuthering Heights: Okay, so there are men out there who sob over or rage against their exes. And women don't? I've encountered enough women who can't get over one of their past relationships. And that's okay with me. You know why? Because we're human, we have failings, we have baggage, we hold on to the past, we regret our actions.

4. The Insta-Boyfriend: Really, there are guys out there who want to get hitched instantly? I thought men are often accused of the diametrically opposite thing: being commitment-phobes. And you think there aren't women out there who put unrealistic expectations about a serious relationship even before they've met the man? I've had one woman tell me on our first meeting that I'd make a good step-father to her daughter.

5. Colonel Not-So-Serious: On this count women can be hypocrites. I've met lots of women who claim they only want a serious relationship, but will also admit to having FWBs and fuck-buddies with nary a realization of the irony.

6. ...Hello?: Really? There are lots of dudes who exchange one message and then disappear? I'm sure there are. But you have no idea how many women do the same, or, worse, exchange a number of messages with you, respond to every one of your messages, and then tell you you're not their type when you ask to meet them. So am I some kind of scratching post for the bored?

This is not to say women are bad. Sure, lots of men are pigs, but so are lots of women. Making this a war of the sexes won't help you or any of the women you supposedly speak for. Women, chill a little. If you encounter a louse on the dating scene, move on for sure, but don't brand all men. After all, you are on the dating scene to meet men, and if they're so bad, why the hell do you want them?

Fruitcakes

So I've slowly re-entered the dating world, this time as myself. After having had some fun at the expense of men by pretending to be a woman on Tinder, I decided I really want to meet someone in person, build new friendships, and maybe more.

And I ended up meeting a couple of fruitcakes.

The first was a woman who was 11 years older than me. I've never dated someone so much older, but I'm nothing if I'm not open-minded. Besides, I liked her profile and thought she could be a friend, even if only a virtual one, or one you get together with once in a while over coffee or a hike. The conversation went swimmingly. A single mother of a college-going multi-racial son, she maintained good relations with her former in-laws. We chatted back and forth, exchanged email addresses and phone numbers. She sent long emails about her life, her son, her ex, etc. She was very open and generous with information, much more so than a lot of other women, who tend to be more guarded. But there was also something odd about her. She was so earnest that it appeared that she was incapable of laughing. There was no humor, no lightness in what she wrote. But still we decided to meet the following weekend.

A couple of days later, I decided to I wanted to temporarily suspend my profile since I was going to be busy. So I informed her ahead of time that although I was suspending my profile, I was still interested in keeping in touch with her by email & phone and meet her in person over the weekend. Pat came her response. She'd changed her mind about meeting me since she was already talking to a couple of guys and wanted to see how things went with them. I was cool with that and wished her the best.

A week later I reactivated my profile. And over the following week this woman visited my profile multiple times without writing to me. If she wasn't interested in meeting me, why did she repeatedly visit my profile? So I wrote her a message asking her how she was doing. She replied and said her meetings with the other men did not go anywhere. 'So, would you like to meet?' I asked. 'Sure,' she responded. So we exchanged more messages back and forth. She asked me a lot of questions about my physical condition: was I overweight, was I physically active, etc. No issues there as I have nothing to hide. We made plans to meet on a particular day.

A day before we were supposed to meet, she wrote saying she'd changed her mind again. She was concerned about our age difference. I have to admit that this pissed me off. I usually try to be very accommodating and understanding when it comes to dating, because it's such an intensely personal experience that no two people will have the same view on it. But this simply sounded like a lame excuse. Our age difference was known from the moment we exchanged our first messages a couple of weeks earlier. We'd even discussed it early on and agreed that it wasn't going to be an issue. And, yet, after two weeks of writing some fairly detailed emails to me, after giving me all indications that she wanted to meet me, she'd changed her mind again. I wanted to ask her what the real reason was? Was she already seeing someone and felt guilty about meeting me? Had I said something to annoy her? Had she met someone else? But I was too annoyed to want to have a conversation with her. I sent her a terse "Good luck" and that was that.

Around the same time I also chatted with another woman in her 30s. Talkative, lively, rotund, platinum blonde (not that it makes a difference to me), we hit it off quite well. She had a naughty streak in her and did not shy away from talking about sex. She even voluntarily sent me photos of her 40DDs.

We met one evening for dinner. She was talkative, as I'd expected, but I found her to be a bit too loud. She was oblivious to her being loud and talked about a lot of things that I'd rather that people in nearby tables around us in the crowded restaurant didn't hear. I tried to nudge the conversation to a lower decibel, but that didn't work. The less I spoke the louder and more talkative she became. It then struck me that there was something odd about her mannerisms. She wasn't nervous, but she was clearly not entirely in control of herself. She wasn't drunk or on drugs, but there was an element of involuntariness in everything she did. She talked a lot about her dog, like a mother would about her child. She showed me multiple photos of her dog on her phone. She slowly revealed that she'd had trauma in her life and that she suffered from debilitating anxiety issues. She took medication for this. She assured me that she was not at all nervous about meeting me since her job required her to meet strangers all the time and she was fine with it. But she was just anxious about other things in life.

I felt sympathy for her. But at the same time I was uncomfortable that nearly everyone in the restaurant could hear her. So I paid as quickly as I could and we left the restaurant. I suggested that we go for a walk and she readily agreed. I felt more at ease now. We chatted about this and that, and walked a few blocks. It was chilly, so we decided to go back and sit in the car. We spent the next hour talking. As she felt more at ease her oddities diminished as well. We flirted, we laughed, we debated social issues. And then we kissed. After the first kiss she pulled me towards her a few times and grabbed my lips in hers. Clearly she craved affection and intimacy. She then slowly pushed my hand towards her breasts. Being a man, I wasn't going to refuse the opportunity. I fondled her as we kissed. But we knew we weren't going to do anything more on the first date.

It was getting late by then. So we decided to call it a night and agreed to meet again in a few days. She hinted that the next time she would probably invite me over to her place. So over the next few days we texted each other throughout the day. I usually use a messenger on my laptop to text people since I find it very hard to type on a phone. We decided on a place to meet at for our next date. But a couple of days before we were supposed to meet, the conversation took a bizarre turn. She asked me why I used the messenger. I'd already explained my typing preference to her once and repeated it. I asked her if it bothered her. She said it did, because apparently she'd been scammed out of $2000 by someone else who used the same kind of messenger. As she explained to me, it was clear that she'd fallen victim to the Nigerian scam: a guy befriends her, tells her he's stuck in a foreign country and asks her for money. And like a fool, she sends it.

Okay, but does that mean she thought I was going to scam her? She'd already met me in person. I'm not sitting in some remote country concocting stories about my life. Just because a scammer used the same software, as do millions of other people around the world, how does that mark me as suspect? Does it make the other millions of people also suspect? What about the converse? Scammers who use other channels of communication? She had no answers to any of that. Her explanations made no sense. Exasperated, I told her as much. 'See,' she wrote. 'We're very different. I don't think linearly.' No kidding. Her reasoning was just nuts, completely illogical. 'You're right,' I wrote back. 'We're very different.'

I never heard back from her.

It must be fruitcake season.

I'm baaaack... well, not yet

I'm back after a hiatus. No, I hadn't crawled into a hole or fallen off the map. I've just be busy with other aspects of my life. My interest in dating -- and writing about dating -- is cyclical. Sometimes you just want to take a step back. And that's exactly what I did after the phase of pretending to be a woman on Tinder wore off. I'm not sure how long this dormant phase will last, but as long as I'm content doing other things, it doesn't matter. But I know that eventually that hole inside me will make its presence felt again, alternatively -- and sometimes simultaneously -- manifesting itself as loneliness and horniness. Until then, my life will be more nuanced, multi-dimensioned. In other words, I'll be an adult.