Sorry to all those with penises, but...

...for the most part, you're all dicks.

I hate men. I really do. I’ve thought about it long and hard and I’ve officially established that.

Not ALL men, mind you. There are some good ones. My friend Ryan is good. I consider him a brother. I have several male friends whose company I actually enjoy. But I really hate dating men.

Not that I want to date women, mind you. That’s just…ew. Just because I hate men doesn’t mean I want to become a lesbian. Because, in case you didn’t know, women are insane, too.

I am just so done with the games. DONE. It’s bullshit. Really. I’m 26 years old and I’ve dated men anywhere from 3 years my junior to 12 years my senior. You would think that the older ones especially would be less into the game-playing. Not so, my friends. They are WORSE.

And guys-- fuck you if you don’t like the generalizations. I don’t care. If you had my experiences when it comes to dating, you’d make generalizations, too.

I recently went out on a few dates with a guy named Dan. And yes, Dan—I know you read this—so, instead of sitting there mortified, just consider yourself lucky that I didn’t mention your last name so that everyone in the future who Googled you would find out what a dick you are. Anyway, it’s not as if Dan was a boyfriend or anything—we didn’t date long enough for that--but ya know…I was stupid enough to hope that maybe it was on track to that.

How did I meet Dan, you might be wondering? I met Dan because I was temporarily brainless and feeling particularly desperate/lonely/foolish one night to put a personal ad/profile out on a very common website—part of which is devoted to relationships. Whatever. It was stupid. I admit it. I should have known better. But you do stupid shit when you’re feeling down on yourself because pretty much everyone else you know is either married, engaged or in a serious relationship en route to marriage. And there you are—third or fifth (or whatever odd number you want to place in the proverbial fill-in-the-blank spot) wheel…yet again. It gets to you. You’re happy for your friends and you’re happy they found their “soulmates,” but you get envious. So, as stupid as it is, I can’t guarantee I won’t do it again when I once more get that overwhelming feeling of “romantic envy.”

I feel the need to say here that I am NOT desperate. I do just fine on my own. I own my own condo, make pretty good money and can pretty much do everything by myself without the help of a man. Everything except have regular sex with a real penis. Which is kinda nice.

But I digress. I got a few responses, but most of them were from men in their 50s, men who were “separated” and had four children, or men who just seemed sketchy in one way or another. But then Dan responded and we seemed to have a lot in common. I won’t bore you with what those things are, but I was most impressed by his sense of humor. I also had this feeling that he was a very honest person—two things I look for in a guy.

Dan was 34, handsome, seemed to have his shit together. We went out on a first date and really hit it off. We had several more and things were seemingly going great. Despite his living about 50 minutes away, we managed to get together a couple of times a week and just had a fabulous time. He planned really nice dates at fun places. He cooked for me. He was thoughtful—picking me up a book on our second date that I had mentioned I would like to read on the first date. He paid attention to me; he seemed really into our conversations. As someone who works in the field of communications, I appreciate a good communicator who listens well.

He text messaged me constantly at first. CONSTANTLY. As in, almost TOO much. But whatever—first few weeks into a relationship, well, that’s pretty cute. You find everything endearing then. But all of a sudden, he stopped entirely. No communication. Nothing. So, I would call or text him and ask him if we were still on for the dates we scheduled the date before. He would say ‘yes’ and would seem somewhat enthusiastic about the upcoming date.

But not hearing from him for days or weeks at a time after he was formally texting/calling me so often was weird. And I’m not stupid—if someone just stops communicating with me unless I initiate it…well, I start to think he’s not interested. And ya know—that’s absolutely fine. All I ask is that you be honest with me about it. Especially when I point-blank ask you if you’re not interested anymore. But when I DID ask him point-blank, he claimed he was interested; he was just “busy.”
Mmm hmm.

Now, because I’m not stupid, I also know “busy” can be man-code for “not interested.” And it usually IS the case. However, like a girl who stupidly overanalyzes shit, I realized that he was, in fact, very busy. He worked a full time job and also worked at a restaurant a couple of nights a week. And he WAS working especially hard because it was the busy season at the restaurant, a couple of other people were on vacation there and he had to fill in for a few weeks. And his full time job was also affiliated with the restaurant industry, so that was getting busier, too—or so he claimed.

But I dunno…things just didn’t feel right. And I couldn’t shake that feeling that despite his insisting that he was, in fact, still interested. I’m not a typical girl. I don’t expect or even WANT a phone call every single day. I hate talking on the phone actually. But a three minute phone call every other day or two just to say hi and to indicate that you haven’t fallen off the face of the earth is not asking too much, in my opinion. Or a text message or e-mail saying that you’re thinking about me isn’t asking a lot.

So, I sent him a text and said in a nutshell: Listen, if you’re not diggin’ me, that’s fine. I won’t be mad—all I ask is that you let me know. But if you ARE just busy and if this is temporary, I can deal. I just can’t shake this feeling you’re not interested, since I never hear from you anymore. Just an occasional hi to know you’re not dead is fine (smiley face).

His response? “I had no idea how busy things would get. And I had no idea how overwhelming it would be. Honestly. You’re more than just a hookup, but I just don’t have time for a girlfriend right now or in the foreseeable future.”

You absolute TOOLBAG. Seriously. So let me get this straight. You responded to an ad I placed where I SPECIFICALLY said that I wasn’t looking for just a casual dating relationship. I was looking for something more serious if things were to work out with the party I decided to date. Basically, I didn’t just want sex, but wanted something on the path to something more. You can’t force a relationship to work out, but I made it clear that if the person responding never intended upon having a serious relationship, that person should NOT respond.

So, dearest Daniel--you responded to this and had NO IDEA that things would get busy in the just four weeks? Oh, and poor baby—that it would be too “overwhelming?” Life’s overwhelming, asshole. 34 year olds learn to deal with it. And if you had no intention upon potentially having a relationship, how am I more than just a hookup?

Oh, and don’t flatter yourself—we never had sex (thank GOD)—so we didn’t “hook up.”
What gets to me is that I gave him an out—I said that if he wasn’t interested, that was fine. And it REALLY was. I’m not going to get mad at someone if the chemistry isn’t there for them. I guess I just expect someone in their mid-30s to have big enough balls to tell me that’s the case.

So, I mention my most recent dating experience with yet another asshole (and believe me, I let him KNOW he was just yet another asshole when I cut him loose) because I am just so sick and tired of it all. I am honest and forthright—in this particular instance and in every other one of recent memory—I made it clear what I was looking for. There was no way to misinterpret things. So, I put myself out there in a 100% honest manner and STILL, the dishonest losers with shitty intentions find me. And I hate to say it, but with the exceptions of a couple of nice guys I’ve dated where the chemistry just didn’t work out and we stayed friends, this type of shit is the NORM. I mean it—truly, I have had more ridiculous dating experiences than I can count. I mean that literally; there must be dozens of shitty dates/series of dates I’ve been on. I shouldn’t be surprised and for the most part I’m not—but part of me still has that ludicrous, naïve hope that perhaps the next guy will be different. I don’t go into every date thinking about marriage or whether the guy will be the father to any children I may have in the future, but I still have that hope that there is some guy out there who I’m attracted to (doesn’t mean he has to look like George Clooney, just that he be attractive to ME), is funny, sweet, has a LITTLE bit of bad boy in him and has a decent job, decent goals and stable finances.

But so far, that’s been asking too much. So, in the meantime, I’m just going to hate men. That is, until I get that urge to post another personal ad, and that naïve optimism comes flooding back.