Submitted by Cheryl:
I met Tim online. He wrote me first, and after a day or two of thinking about it, I wrote back to him. I haven't had much luck with Internet dating, but Tim seemed thoughtful and at least somewhat capable of intelligent conversation.
He worked at a bookstore nearby, and we made a date for a Thursday evening, after both of our workdays.
He showed up to the cafe in a bad mood. After we introduced each other, I asked him what was wrong.
"Nothing," he said. Then, for apparent emphasis, he repeated, "I said, nothing."
"How was work?" I asked.
"Shitty," he said, "Let's get this over with."
Talk about going from high hopes to dashed expectations! I was as pleasant as possible to him for the rest of the light meal that we shared. He ate as though he couldn't wait to be anywhere else, and I figured that after the date was over, I'd never be speaking to him again.
Five minutes after we parted ways, he called.
"I'm sorry. I just had a bad day at work. I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Do you still want to hang out?"
I didn't really, but I also didn't like the idea of leaving things as they were. In any event, he acknowledged that he was the one at fault, and had apologized.
I told him that I could hang out for a little bit. We met up again a few minutes later right there on the street.
As cheerfully as possible, I asked him, "Want to tell me about your day?"
"No," he said, and again, weirdly, for apparent emphasis, "I said, no."
We walked in silence, up and down the street. I tried initiating conversation once or twice more, only to be met with a grunt or a snort or some sort of brusque, nonverbal response. Why did he want to meet up again, exactly? What was he playing at?
After about twenty minutes, I had had enough. I wished him a goodnight.
"That's it?" he asked.
I explained to him that I didn't think that we were a good match, and I wished him the best of luck.
"Why aren't we a good match?" he demanded, "You hardly know me."
"Exactly. You're not exactly forthcoming with details about yourself."
He said, "Maybe if you stopped asking me so many stupid questions."
"Then how are we supposed to learn more about each other?"
He looked at me like I was a grade-schooler. "By spending time together!"
"In awkward silence, when you're obviously pissed off about something?"
"You calling me awkward?"
I took a step back, and as calmly as possible, said, "I'm done. Bye."
I must have been trembling something fierce, but to my relief, he didn't follow me as I walked away from him, down the sidewalk. It was further away from my car, but he didn't need to know what my car looked like.
A day later, I received a message from him, the longest e-mail I've ever received. It was like a personal manifesto of everything that was wrong in the world, especially women.
I didn't reply.
Aw, c'mon! Post the manifesto! It sounds like it could be a fun read!
ReplyDelete(Glad you got away in one piece).
Agreed. Post the manifesto so we can get an inside look at the mind-set of loser guys like these. I'd be very interested to know how I, as a woman, affect the general shittiness of the world.
ReplyDeleteSorry for the bad date, OP, but at least you know when to cut your losses on a date and never return.
I third posting the Manifesto! And good thinking on not letting him know what your car looked like. This guy sounds grade-A creepy.
ReplyDeleteWhen, in the course of inane events, it becomes necessary for one cunt to dissolve the erotic bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and smug station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a friggin’ respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel a rant about the separation.
ReplyDeleteWe hold these truths to be self-evident, that all women are created bitches, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable faults, that among these are pissiness, annoyances and the pursuit of answers to questions I ALREADY SAID I DIDN’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT. That to secure these faults, shenanigans are instituted upon men, deriving their just powers without consent of the horny. That whenever any form of dating, including sexting, becomes destructive to the ends of me getting laid, it is the right of the ME to alter or to abolish your existancde, and to institute new facts, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem to make me look good and you look like the FAT BITCH you are. Prudence, indeed, is much hotter than you even if she is your sister, and my interest in you will be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, so I may as well tell you to fuck off and enumerate the reasons for my hatred of your gender. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object (getting laid) evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such cuntishness, and to provide new manifestos for their future security. --Such has been the patient sufferance of my penis; and such is now the necessity which constrains me to alter history. The history of my sex life is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over my balls. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world.
She has refused his assent to making out, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.
She has forbidden a future date, unless suspended in their operation till her assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, she has utterly neglected to attend to them.
She has refused to stay in my sulky presence, a right inestimable to me and formidable to tyrants only.
She has called together other male bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of my semen in her vagina, for the sole purpose of fatiguing me into compliance with her measures.
She has dissolved dates repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness her invasions on my right not to talk about my FRIGGIN’ DAY.
(cont'd)
When, in the course of inane events, it becomes necessary for one cunt to dissolve the erotic bands which have connected them with another, and to assume among the powers of the earth, the separate and smug station to which the laws of nature and of nature's God entitle them, a friggin’ respect to the opinions of mankind requires that they should declare the causes which impel a rant about the separation.
ReplyDeleteWe hold these truths to be self-evident, that all women are created bitches, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable faults, that among these are pissiness, annoyances and the pursuit of answers to questions I ALREADY SAID I DIDN’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT. That to secure these faults, shenanigans are instituted upon men, deriving their just powers without consent of the horny. That whenever any form of dating, including sexting, becomes destructive to the ends of me getting laid, it is the right of the ME to alter or to abolish your existancde, and to institute new facts, laying its foundation on such principles and organizing its powers in such form, as to them shall seem to make me look good and you look like the FAT BITCH you are. Prudence, indeed, is much hotter than you even if she is your sister, and my interest in you will be changed for light and transient causes; and accordingly all experience hath shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer, while evils are sufferable, so I may as well tell you to fuck off and enumerate the reasons for my hatred of your gender. But when a long train of abuses and usurpations, pursuing invariably the same object (getting laid) evinces a design to reduce them under absolute despotism, it is their right, it is their duty, to throw off such cuntishness, and to provide new manifestos for their future security. --Such has been the patient sufferance of my penis; and such is now the necessity which constrains me to alter history. The history of my sex life is a history of repeated injuries and usurpations, all having in direct object the establishment of an absolute tyranny over my balls. To prove this, let facts be submitted to a candid world.
She has refused his assent to making out, the most wholesome and necessary for the public good.
She has forbidden a future date, unless suspended in their operation till her assent should be obtained; and when so suspended, she has utterly neglected to attend to them.
She has refused to stay in my sulky presence, a right inestimable to me and formidable to tyrants only.
She has called together other male bodies at places unusual, uncomfortable, and distant from the depository of my semen in her vagina, for the sole purpose of fatiguing me into compliance with her measures.
She has dissolved dates repeatedly, for opposing with manly firmness her invasions on my right not to talk about my FRIGGIN’ DAY.
(con't)
For cutting off my balls and putting them in a jar on her bedstand:
ReplyDeleteFor imposing conversation on us without our consent:
For depriving us in many cases, of the benefits of some tail on the side:
For transporting us to the Friend Zone to be tried for pretended offenses:
She has abdicated interest here, by declaring us out of line and daring to be assertive.
She has plundered our wallets, ravaged our egos, burned our cocks with STDs, and destroyed my hopes of finally getting busy.
She has constrained our fellow men taken captive to bear arms against their brethren, to become the executioners of their friends and brethren, or to not get lucky at the hands of their long-term girlfriends or wives.
In every stage of these oppressions we have petitioned for redress in the most humble terms: our repeated petitions have been answered only by repeated injury. A princess, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a tyrant, is unfit to be a breeder of a free people.
Nor have we been wanting in attention to our lady brethren. We have warned them from time to time of attempts by their conversation to extend an unwarrantable jurisdiction over us. We have reminded them of the circumstances of our deep need to get laid and how hard we are. We have appealed to their native justice and magnanimity, and we have conjured them by the ties of our common kindred to disavow these usurpations, which, would inevitably interrupt our connections and correspondence. They too have been deaf to the voice of justice and of consanguinity (by which I don’t mean I’ll boff you if you are on your period. Ick). We must, therefore, acquiesce in the necessity, which denounces our separation, and hold them, as we hold the rest of mankind, enemies in war, in peace friends.
We, therefore, the representatives of the cock that unites us all, in Sexual Congress, assembled, appealing to the Supreme Judge of the world for the rectitude of our intentions, do, in the name, and by the authority of the good people of these colonies, solemnly publish and declare, that these united unlaid men are, and of right ought to be free and able to get a blowjob from whomever they wish; that they are absolved from all allegiance to women, and that all connection between them and the state of arousal, is and ought to be totally IN MY CONTROL; and that as free and independent men, they have full power to levy war, conclude peace, contract alliances, establish commerce, and to do all other acts and things which independent males may of right do. And for the support of this declaration, with a firm reliance on the protection of Divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our lives, our fortunes and our sacred honor that we WILL NEVER HOLD YOUR PURSE IN PUBLIC.
I bet he's one of those jack-offs who expect women not to speak unless spoken to.
ReplyDeleteA little underwhelming after Fizziks' parody of the declaration of independence.
ReplyDeleteHere's how this date should have gone:
ReplyDeleteHe said, "Let's get this over with."
You said, "It's over."
You walk away.
^ Agreed
ReplyDeleteThat's how a lot of dates on this site should have gone, but the OP always decides to give them the benefit of the doubt.
I'd like to remind everyone that without the benefit of a doubt, Jared wouldn't be nearly as famous as he is now. (Well, famous on the internet and in Britain & its penal colony.)
ReplyDeleteAdditionally, the only time I make Scientist Boyfriend hold my purse in public is when I have to put my jacket on; then I take it right back.
Jared - I think you need to post Fizziks faux horny loser manifesto somewhere prominently (as if beautifully framed on the wall) so that we may refer to and/or link to it often.
ReplyDeleteAnd perhaps for creative marketing, you could distribute little laminated pocket sized versions to hand out on dates. Use the blog info. like a business card on the front, but the manifesto and a blank signature line on the back for the loser to make it his own.