A hairy situation...

Over the last couple of months I have played with the idea of going back to online dating. It is always exciting to judge people on their picture, stalk through their profile to see if they meet a few items on the checklist that most guys in my town meet anyway (is he the kind of guy I could potentially binge-watch Breaking Bad with? Does he love going to concerts? Is he good looking enough for me but probably ugly to others?). This town is full of single men and 80% of them have some kind of online dating profile.  Unfortunately, most, if not all “guys” I've met through online dating do not meet this item on the checklist: a man who is actually ready to start dating and is not a jackass. Also, I can’t find a good picture where I can look educated, with goals and a full-time job, taking no shit from nobody, but still occasionally throws up from drinking, throws water on rude strangers’ heads at the bar, and would re-enact 50 Shades of Grey with the right guy.

I first joined the online dating community a year after I moved to a small town for graduate school. Just like everyone, I used the excuse that I was looking for friends, because if you say you want to go on dates or are looking for love you will either get perverts or no responses at all. However, I did need some friends outside of school. Everyone my age in that town had already married their high school sweetheart and had kids. During that time, I only met 3 guys using that profile. “Jordache”, “Dating Site Murderer” (must be twins with the man on popular meme), and a guy stuck on friend-zone for a year (that I actually ended up getting serious with later). I met all of these guys around the around the time. I remember my computer broke and friend-zoned-guy fixed for me the first time I met him, with my intention to go back to flirting with Jordache. That is kinda messed up when I think about it. But let’s talk about Jordache.

Jordache was this gorgeous 30-something blond blue-eyed guy with nice arms. This guy ran a plant business, had a nice truck, his own place, dressed well, and listened to the right music. Like most guys with a sister, he was the kind of guy who opened doors and never let me pay for a thing, instead he’d always take out cash of his wallet and say “you’re a student, you should never have to pay anything on a date” (swoon, right?). He was also funny and random, for our first date we considered going to a local cat show. I wish that had actually happened. But this story takes place on our last date.

We pulled into El Dorado, a ghetto Mexican club also known for fights, drugs, and guns, after we drove around jamming out to Cults and Nine Inch Nails. Jordache looked hilarious as the only white dude in a crowd of hats and boots. His lack of fucks given as he danced badly to Mexican cumbia was a turn-on. Our fun “Mexican” date evolved into Taco-Bell to go on the back of his truck at a random parking lot. The shots of cheap tequila worked their way out and he was then pissing 3 feet away from me. It was a big turn-off. “But he’s hot”, I thought, so I tried to not let than ruin my idea of him. Wrong. Back at my apartment, we were kissing. I remember he did not kiss like I expected a gorgeous 30 something year old guy to kiss, "we can work on that later, he's hot". But we kept kissing until he said one of the worst things you can say to a girl (“You look fat” being Number 1). He said “You should shave your arms” I pulled away, sat up confused and upset by the random insult.  Yes, I am Mexican and there is a stereotype behind, but I don’t howl at the full-moon. He noticed I was offended and gave his worst explanation. “It’s OK, my ex was Mexican”. He explained how she had an accent, a mustache and was just hairy overall. “You should leave.” Then the most awkward closing-my-apartment-door-on-someone moment in history happened. You know, that moment when he expected a hug-and-kiss goodbye, but I did not give it.

We obviously did not talk after that. I stupidly expected an apology. Just like I expect 30 something year olds to be adults. The only thing that happened is me running into him at a store months later while wearing a white over sized t-shirt, flip flops, shorts with unshaven legs, and no make up. I’m sure I would come up as a Google Image result for “Walmart People”. Of course we both pretended we did not see each other. That was very adult of us... Nah, I actually looked like shit. If I had been wearing my booty jeans I would've walked right by and say "hey" in the most bitch tone of voice I could come up with. You know, the whole "you messed up and missed out on this" type of thing all of women experience.

Almost a year later, he later messaged me on Facebook before I moved out of state. That awkward small talk about concerts and music, then he acted confused with the way things ended between us. He could not believe when I reminded him what he said that night. Instead of apologizing, he said “I must have been intoxicated, but you probably had very dark arm hair”. Seriously? I blocked him. Since then I have learned that most men really do not know how to apologize, even when I think the easiest thing he could have done was take some flowers from his nursery business and leave them by my door or at least a 3 word text. I learned that he was only right about a woman going through school should not be paying during a date (I later dated some men with full-time jobs who did not believe in this! Mistake!). I also learned to not ever date men who are too busy and concerned about body hair rather than enjoying the moment.