Anonymous Assface: An Example of Pure Sexy

29Feb08

Before I begin this post, I would like to start off by making two things clear: 1) Guys are jerks. 2) I think there is a reason why the men that are on Match.com are in fact, on Match.com instead of meeting people the old fashioned way. At the bar absolutely wasted and going home with them the first night.

Anyway, here is a prime example of pure sexy (and smoothness), Virginia-style. This guy just happened to meet a lovely gal on Match.com (why she’s on there, I dunno, because she is AWESOME and doesn’t need any funky internet dating site) and after a couple of weeks of emails, they decide to meet. Now, this guy works in Quantico. I know, isn’t he dreamy?! You want him right now. I can feel it. The other party works in DC–so clearly, she’s going to be able to be at the bar waaaay before him. Instead of sitting around twiddling her thumbs, she decides to go to happy hour with a couple of friends until he gets there, then leave her buds and go chill with Dream Boy. After waiting for about 40 minutes, cutie pie walks in. Glitter pours from the ceiling and there are harps playing. Seriously, I was there. Girl sees him, goes over to the bar to say hello, says she’s going to get her stuff and she’ll be right back. And when I say right back, I mean 45 seconds flat. Because, who wouldn’t want to tap that?

Alas, McDreamy is nowhere to be found. Where did he go? Please see the below email for an explanation on his whereabouts:

I’m definitely not interested in trying to meet up again, especially since you succeeded in making a pretty bad first impression. I’m not fishing for sympathy here, but I do commute to Quantico everyday. I agreed to meet you in the city and even told you when I could make it by 6:15 (which I had to slightly hustle to do so). So I find it kind of laughable (considering I told you when I could be there) that you couldn’t be by yourself or find something else to do for 30-45 minutes until I got there. There’s always some inherent awkwardness in meeting people face-to-face for the first time on match, and then you’re like, “Oh do you want to come over and sit with 2 other people you don’t know either, as well?” Thanks for wasting my time. It’s even more ridiculous that you e-mailed me this morning. I guess the fact that I slipped out the back door almost immediately last night didn’t speak for itself! So have you learned anything yet? (and when I pose that question, it’s for you to answer to yourself and in no way does it mean e-mail me again)

What. The. Hell. Obviously, he’s apparently on Match.com because he’s ummm…socially retarded and hates people. I can see him being upset if she called him over to join her little gal party, but for chrissakes she left her friends to go hang out with him!! He didn’t even have to meet them!! Yes, she asked if he wanted to, but only as a polite offer. Seriously, what kind of crazy land is this guy from (Ballston, actually. If you see him, honk)?! Is it really that offensive? Get over yourself, kid. AND he didn’t even have the NERVE to exit through the front door! He ran out the back like a little bitch trying to get away from school bullies. What a tool. Ah yes, just another example of all the high quality catches one can experience in the DC metro area. Womp. What a fine piece of man candy.

P.S. I have his email, but I had to take it down for reasons I won’t elaborate on. But I can tell you this–he has HOTMAIL. Who the fuck has Hotmail anymore? Not only is this guy craptastic, he’s also technologically obsolete! Neeeext.

UPDATE: If you read the comments on this post, you’ll see than an anonymous reader has begged me to take this post down… Sadly, I don’t think I’m going to do that (still thinking *Jeopardy music*) because frankly, it’s hilarious. And he should really learn to be a bit more mature and learn how to act towards intelligent, awesome women. For your information, anonymous reader, the world does not revolve around you. People don’t want to wander the streets of DC or sit alone at the bar waiting for you. Did I even want to meet you and interrupt your date? NO. Wait, scratch that. HELL NO. I wanted a beer. We were LEAVING. Sheesh. I think I will take on a slightly ghetto tone here when I say, “Shit, ain’t nobody thinkin’ ’bout you.” So yea, always remember: HELL HATH NO FURY LIKE A WOMAN SCORNED. I mean, not that you scorned her exactly, but ya know, I thought that sounded pretty fuckin’ cool. Church, fools!! xoxo

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