1. The basics: Name. Age. Location…no explanation necessary.
2. Lifestyle. This part of the profile usually gives readers an insight as to what their potential date likes to do in their free time, as well as beliefs, morals, etc. It is here that one might note religious values, ideas on animal cruelty, food preferences and hygiene habits, or lack there of for a lot of these duds.
3. Experiences. In this category, one might find out more about a person’s years and how they have spent them. It might also be a good place to lay down the tacky one-liners such as “Looking for a compass, not an anchor” or “Easy going Life lover”. And of course there’s my personal favorite “I just want to dance in the rain”. (The author of that last one should resent themselves for eternity and stop being such a complete and utter douche bag).

After having read through their information, it may be easier for you to make a decision on what you might actually have in common. This is not a green light to pretend to mold into their “perfect match” when you are clearly polar opposites, just to get a date. In other words, cut the bullshit and be yourself…if you know who that is.

When a man refers to himself as a “paradox”…run.  See, this guy thinks he’s being clever throwing around terms that seem knowledgeable at an attempt to promote himself as the “Renaissance man” he idealistically believes himself to be, but to his dismay, he proves the word correct by being completely inconsistent, illogical and absurd.

With that being said, let’s proceed to our case in point, and the massacre of decency and common sense displayed by this class act of a guy.

      It wasn’t before I met him in person that I realized he reeked of scumbag. From the “ax” body spray raping my nostrils right down to the trendy torn jeans with reef sandals that populate the mall and local dive bars, this guy thought he was amazing. I must ad he threw on a local firefighter shirt for impression’s benefit. For privacy (and sheer embarrassment’s sake) we will refer to this one as “Chris”.

      There we were, in the awkward meeting stage at a shopping center midway between our homes. Him looking like a douche magnet, and me wishing I hadn’t wasted my new dress for this. Cautiously, I pressed on, giving him the benefit of the doubt.

      Five minutes later I regretted the decision as he opened the door to a steakhouse and proceeded to pull out my chair. Readers might think this is gentlemen-like, but I am a strict vegetarian, as clearly stated in my online dating profile. I felt him curl his lip after I ordered a salad with no meat, but I wasn’t about to entertain his likely spiel about how meat is the greatest thing on the planet.

      No sooner did the water hit the table when he began to go on about how his whole goal in life is to be a the best husband, partner, and father he can be. Not too shabby of a setup. When he should’ve stopped his sentence, in true dipshit fashion, he proceeded with, “ But there is one thing I’m definitely not willing to give up. Threesomes”. (Yes, very classy I know, and so appropriate for a first date.) He continued with his rebuttal, stating that this is his way of being able to stay faithful to his wife.  As long as he is open and honest with his wife or partners involved then its not considered cheating. (It was at this point that I started choking on my water in amusement). 

      Somehow I suffered through the endless banter at the table of this slaughterhouse, and in a lapse of good judgment agreed to go grab a drink…but hey, after this date I really needed one. I began to kick myself harder when he took my non-smoking self to a sleazy cigar bar. Chris obviously paid close attention to my profile and personality when planning this date…what a keeper.

      One vodka cranberry down the hatch and amidst the fog of smoke and emphysema coughs of this shithole’s inhabitants, here we were, back at the ever- so- appropriate threesome talk. As if the previous hour of ménage a trois mumbo jumbo wasn’t enough, this flaming sac of douche continued his argument as he puffed smoke into my face. “There wont always be another woman involved, just about 30-50% of the time”. (He paused as if he were waiting for my approval). With a grimace, the verbal diarrhea kept spewing, “It would start off several times a week and eventually after marriage, only a few times a week. Once babies are in the picture it will probably slow down even more, because I want to be a really involved parent, lugging the kids to football and dance class and shit”. He furthered with the idea that he understood if the threesomes only occurred every other weekend and maybe on holidays and anniversaries.

      It is at this point when I asked myself, ‘could this creep really get any worse?’ (Boy am I an idiot, opening the door for the kicker). After it was obvious that I was not up for this multiple partner idea, in addition to my countless verbal rejections of this bogus life plan, Chris musters up the audacity to offer me a second date, in hopes to show me his PowerPoint presentation regarding the benefits of multi partner relationships. (Yes Chris, let us have a seminar on your pathetic half assed view on adult relationships, because the last 3 hours haven’t been enough torture). I simply laughed in his face and told him he was out of his goddamn mind because we clearly had nothing in common but our state of residence and affliction for painfully horrendous dates.

      Two weeks later   he sent me a text saying “Fine, I’ll give up on the threesome idea if you’ll let me take you out again”. Thanks but no thanks Mr. Paradox, and please feel free to deposit your insightful philosophies directly up your ass where they can reunite with your head.