The Inadvertent Misogynist, Confessions of a Serial Dater

Serial Dater [cereal-daytur]

-Noun.

*A man or woman who non-exclusively dates multiple partners at times in an unscrupulous manner.

Synonyms: Whore, Player

Antonyms: Prude, Nun, Dungeons and Dragons Aficionado, Mom

I’m a thirty-something guy living in Boston.  I developed an interest in serial dating 2 ½ years ago and it subsequently has been a hobby of mine ever since.  I knew with my penchant for dishonesty and strong desire to hone my time management skills that I had what it takes to be a womanizing dickhead.

I decided to almost exclusively meet girls online.  Why you ask?  Because they put out; quickly.  Even though that’s true, I more so wanted to leverage my time by placing ads and focusing on courting women who already had an interest in me.

So I created a number of different ads, from brutal honesty to complete nonsense.  To my surprise, nonsense was by far the most successful.  I eventually created an ad that received countless praise.  Over time I heard from hundreds of quality girls from ads I placed on a dozen different websites.

Before meeting I preferred to converse by email, IM, or texting.  This way I was able to put more thought into what I had to say and flirt with the utmost precision.  Better yet, I could be an uber-prick and pretend to speak multiple languages compliments of Yahoo! Answers or AltaVista Babelfish.

When starting from scratch I usually had eight to ten viable prospects, from which I would pick five to six to meet, and then cut it down to my favorite two to three.  It was important to meet as soon as possible to avoid days or weeks of communication only to discover you aren’t the least bit compatible once you finally meet.  Sometimes I’d be invited over to their house at 1:00 am because they just got in from a girls night out and couldn’t wait any longer.  I called that “a guaranteed lay”.

I know ways to succeed when dating two or more; however, in my opinion, dating more than three is virtually unmanageable.  You’ll have no time for your friends, the gym and be tired every day at work.  Therefore juggling multiple relationships requires some strategy.

1. Determine desired level of honesty: From my experience if you want to date and sleep with whomever you want without the risk of losing what you have, lying is pretty much required. For example, at one point I was dating 5 girls at the same time and sleeping with 4 of them.

Moreover, I probably would have been smothered in my sleep if they knew I lined up meetings with girls I was dating at strategic times of the day.  I’d have a nooner with one, an at home dinner and movie with another, and a late night sleep over with a third all in the same day.  Don’t worry ladies; I’d wash up in between… usually.

2. Positioning: Assign each girl a rating of ‘weekday’, ‘weekend’, ‘casual’, and ‘I got nothing else better to do’.  Fridays and Saturdays are reserved for the girls that you may actually see a future with or are serious arm candy.  Conversely, that one who’s been reading “he’s just not that into you” will still be there when desperation sets in no matter what she says.

3. Preemptive damage control: Be proactive and learn techniques on how to block the dubiousness.  For example, if asked where you were the night before, you need a way to say it softly or construct a canned lie that works best for you.  I liked to say “I was with my friend ‘so and so’ and we watched a movie” instead of, “I hung out with Jennifer who I’ve been fucking the entire time I’ve been with you.  We went to a movie and she blew me in the parking lot afterwards.  So how was board game night with the family?”

So what came out of this debauchery?  A lot more than I bargained for.  Whether we are willing to admit it or not, we all want someone special.  This is a way to get to them quicker than ever; however, if you screw up, be prepared for a multitude of problems.

Four girls were in love with me at the same time, I had to create an Excel spreadsheet just so I knew who to notify if the doctor gave me some bad news, two girls wet my bed, and worst of all I pissed off a few girls so badly they put up ads telling others to avoid dating me and to this day I receive harassing anonymous emails whenever I put up an ad on Craigslist.

So when asked “TSA, if you could do it all again would you change a thing?” I vehemently reply “oh fuck yeah.”

Well, loyal readers…please welcome our guest writer The Striped Avenger! TSA is in his early thirties, a lifelong resident of Boston and that’s all he’s willing to tell us.  He does, however have a lot to say about his stint in Serial Dating…so please leave him your comments below.  He’ll be happy to share the pros, cons and unwarranted high fives with anyone who cares to offer up their opinions!

Why women suck

You know what sucks about women? You just can’t argue with them.  You know what sucks about men? They don’t have vaginas.

Yeah I said it… and I meant it… well half of it anyways. I’m actually glad men don’t have vaginas… it’s awkward enough being in a locker room without having to watch a member of the 80 year old racquet-ballers clique haphazardly towel their craggily ball-ginas as their wilted willie flops about with each brush of the scrotulabia; thereby providing a distinctly frightening and grotesquely memorable visual display of Newton’s third law of motion.

Now I understand that visual may have completely disgusted (and/or confused) many of you … my apologies.

But know that the desire you have to wipe your mental palate clean of the distastefulness inherent in the aforementioned mental image, even when paired with your desire to read a sentence in this article that is not an incoherent run-on, in no way exceeds my desire to expound upon the absolute suck-tacity that is a women’s attempt at coherent disagreement.

And with that bit of forthright rambling out of the way, please allow me to present the 3 purely scientific reasons why women are incapable of effective argument:

1. Because they’re women.

This would seem to be a shallow and chauvinistic argument to some… but rest assured that those who disagree are most likely women and -scientifically speaking- illogical. As was just previously stipulated….women are incapable of arguing logically. Now that this fact has twice been stated, there should be no need to argue the merit of this scientific conclusion because the fact itself has been stated… and supported.  Now I know what some of you ladies are thinking; “I am women hear me roar… in numbers too big to ignore etc… and this line of reasoning is absolute bullshit!” Just cool your jets ladies, it’ll all be ok. Do you really want to argue with the sagacity of the very first reason on this list? Really? You do realize that this reason can’t argue back… because it’s not a person. So, cease and desist before you further make a fool of yourself. Your anger at this line of logic is just a mask you wear to hide your confusion. It’s all alright …shhh…the truth can be cruel.

2. Generally speaking, women anger more easily when faced with criticism.

Now ladies if you’re having trouble buying this argument as well… I’d suggest you remember how angry you got while reading the last paragraph. Calm down… take a deep breath … (exhale) don’t let your stomach get tangled up in knots… (Inhale)  let’s stop the bloating before it begins. Just remember its ok, it’s not your fault that you can’t argue…nothing is your fault. You’re perfect just the way you are.  Ok? Ok.

Now most social scientists agree that the reason women are maladapted to handle criticism is in large part due to their inability to logically consider an idea that they, themselves did not voice. Some scientists have theorized that women would be far more receptive to criticism if men could more accurately mimic the tonal qualities of their women folk. This theory is interesting but quite risky in practice. Unfortunately the vast majority of men fail to adequately recreate the speech  of their significant other and end up being assailed with complaints of mockery and may inadvertently forfeit their rights to sexy time for  indefinite periods of time.

This brings me to my last point…

3. Women have no sense of humor.

Women take 91.3 percent of all arguments seriously. They then levy punishments willy nilly until they have been apologized to, forgotten why they were punishing you and perhaps who you are, or otherwise been distracted by shiny trinkets in the surrounding area.  Women will take a phrase here or an opinion there, twist the meaning and take it completely out of context…  then damn you with your words.   Some women will even look for a reason to be offended by… now this is purely hypothetical… let’s say, humorous prevarications in a blog, for example.  And why do they get so offended? Because this reaction has proven to be very effective in the on-going effort to collect shiny trinkets. Anyhow…

What women fail to realize-or choose to disregard- is that, from a male perspective, an argument doesn’t always beget anger. Sometimes it just gives us an opportunity to talk to you about something else other than the way that girl at El Pollo Loco looked at you… or the injustices suffered unto you by way of L’Oreal and Neutrogena,  Some arguments are meant to be purely speculative… others are purely in good fun. Sometimes …an argument is the only effective way to ward off a barrage of trivial bitching. And sometimes it’s the only way to get you to have sex with us. And who doesn’t love make up sex… hypothetically speaking of course.

Sing the praises or throw your verbal stones at our male guest writer down below.  ( I cannot believe I sleep with him…)

The Starving Pick-Up Artists

So…anybody get lucky this weekend?   We know you’ve been putting yourself out there.  On the town, in the scene making your presence known.  You are, at the very least getting your money’s worth out of that ‘club’ shirt, right?  If not then you should have saved yourself a weekend of rejection, and headed out to Los Angeles for the 2008 Love Systems Super Conference!  That’s if you’re a man with deep pockets and a shallow dating pool.

On October 17-19, Los Angeles became center stage as the top Dating Masters from around the world led unlucky and unsatisfied men into the light.  Two days of in-field training on topics including Body Language, Vocal Projection, Call Back Humor and Physical Escalation - Touching Gets Results.  All designed to guide them through the valuable techniques that their laughable attempt at ‘Game’ has been missing.

A Seduction Training Event!  Come one, come all, if you haven’t been cumming enough lately.  This is, in fact the culture of the new day Pick-Up Artist.  No longer are men leaving their homes with just a fresh pair of underwear, condoms and a wingman.  Love Systems has turned this into an entire Dating Science, and we have this man to thank for it.

That, my masturbating to a catalog friends, is Mystery.  If he looks familiar, you’re either part of the Seduction Underground, or you’ve gotten a glimpse of his handy work on the VH1 reality series ‘The Pick-Up Artist’.  Mystery takes a small group of social misfits and introverts, and puts them through a boot camp to teach them the art of putting ‘beautiful women under your spell’.  Yes, you read that right.  That’s if you were able to take your eyes off his spell binding hat.

Mystery, born Erik James Horvac-Markovic (why’d he change his name, you think?) has gone from a Dungeons & Dragons playing Toronto youth, to being described as the ‘World’s Greatest Pick-Up Artist’.  Author of the book The Mystery Method: How To Get Beautiful Women Into Bed, he has crafted an entire industry complete with a swarm of followers and loyal fans.  His words and advice aren’t just strategies, they’re considered modern day dating gospel by those in awe of his abilities.

According to his website, The Mystery Method claims to be ‘the notorious step-by-step system to meet, attract, and seduce or date beautiful women that anyone can learn and that GUARANTEES results.’  You see, it’s based upon ‘female psychology’ so it doesn’t matter if you have looks or money.  You do, however need money to attend his Conference.

Seriously, what’s a little one time fee for guaranteed beautiful women the rest of your life?  If you guessed $950 you’d be both correct, and totally missing out.  That’s just your BASIC Silver Event Package.  You want to go Gold and meet some of the instructors privately then $950 will cover your deposit, but you have to cough up a total of $3750.  Gulp. Is the idea to turn you into a Starving Pick-Up Artist?

Platinum is really the right move here.  You get an all access event ticket, meet the instructors AND after you have learned all about what makes us gals tick; you get to go to a party at the Playboy Mansion!  You know…’cause you’ll have mad skills after 2 days and Miss October is just dying to meet and mount the new you.

Now, I realize I have never tried to pick up a woman before, so I haven’t had to struggle with that form of our complex ‘booga booga’ psychology.  Certainly there is something to be said for becoming more personally aware and adept at managing social situations.  But am I the only one that thinks that shelling out thousands of dollars to the ‘World’s Greatest Pick-Up Artist’ is the proper fix?  I should also mention I am not a 31 year old male virgin.  My view might be slightly askew.

Maybe it all makes sense and I’m looking at it the wrong way.  I actually spoke with someone who both supports and admires these instructors for what they provide.  (Instructors by the way that have handles like Savoy, Braddock, Moxie, Sheriff, Tenmagnet and Soul…is Sarah Palin naming these cats?)  It’s a service, he said, just like any other self help-tool.

Or maybe, and here’s a crazy idea:  Spending the weekend trying to reinvent a version of yourself to pick up women in a bar, isn’t going to work as well as working on the real you.  You know…the one who still has to be interesting after we invited you to sit at our tables?  I know how to get my leg over my head.  Two days in L.A. doesn’t mean you’ve figured out how to get my leg over yours.

Alright!  This whole Pick-Up Artists Underground really threw me for a loop!  What say you Ladies and Gents?  Do you see it for it’s positive self help capabilities…or is it just a sexed up version of Tony Robbins?  Would you spend that much cash to get the girls?  Confidence booster, life changing experience or just another gimmick from a man in a funny hat?  I of course expect all of you ladies to share your encounters with a Pick Up Artist!

A Fair Trade?

“An intellectual is a person who has discovered something more interesting than sex.” ~ Aldous Huxley

Once upon a time people struggled to speak about sexuality. Men were supposed to suppress it and women…well, they weren’t even supposed to be sexual. Nowadays it seems that the inability to speak about sex has been replaced by an inability to speak about love. People are more comfortable with the sharing of a bed than the sharing of their souls. What happened to us?

Women and men used to trade sex for love. Now they trade sex…for sex. Men and women of every orientation are becoming more and more comfortable engaging in sexual encounters for what they would tell you is pleasure’s sake alone. But we all know that pleasure can be achieved without a partner. So is it possible that we are sharing that bed for something more than we are admitting to?

Ah, yes…love. That mysterious, confusing, horrifyingly wonderful experience that most of us are chasing after, pining for, hiding from or wallowing in. But in one way or another, most of us spend more than a bit of our time thinking about it. So why are we pretending not to be?

It is my belief that whether or not we will acknowledge it we often jump into that bed with our intentions and identities concealed, because we are unsure of ourselves. We fear what we get is going to be too much…or not enough. We fear our vulnerabilities. We fear exposure and judgment. We hope for validation, affection, acceptance.

We want to be known.

Yet sometimes the pressure and the fear are too much and we flee from it. To avoid drowning we avoid the sea altogether. We reject love before it can reject us.

I used to think I had mastered separating sex from love. I didn’t think I wanted an awkward emotional exchange and so I would go to great lengths to ensure that one did not occur. Until the day I awoke wondering when exactly I had allowed myself to become so hollow. I feared I have damaged myself irreparably.

But then something miraculous happened. I met a man who refused to let me hide. And just ten minutes in a bed with someone that saw me, truly, down to my very core, and still wanted to see more… it changed my life. It changed me.

And now…I want to wallow.

Because it’s really not as messy as you might think.

What say you, distinguished audience? Can you compartmentalize sex and love? Or do you need the complete package to be satisfied? Do you think this is something that develops as we get older, or is it really as simple as finding the right person to wallow around in the love-muck with?

Mis(s) Matched, The Finale’

Two weeks, two men and two rather unpleasant dates later I’d managed to convince myself that the third time’s the charm. I was determined to scrutinize the next suitor through a rigorous screening process that would include but not be limited to: do you have all of your senses, teeth and a wallet?

Lo and behold, quicker than I could bat a false eyelash match.com had struck again and I found myself enraptured in conversation with a Tom Cruise look alike over a seaside Sunday brunch. (Don’t judge me, people!) Our meet and greet outlasted most and left me inquisitive and delighted by the possibilities of future excursions with this effervescent and charismatic creature. His captivating eyes lit up when he spoke and his perfect Colgate smile was mesmerizing. He was an entrepreneur who I would soon discover was also highly skilled in the arts of manipulation and destruction.

Entering into the third week of a whirlwind romance there were more red flags warnings than a drought-stricken forest on a windy mid-summer day. Being as how I was already on high alert thanks to match.com’s previous selections I had no choice but to call in for back-up and schedule an inner circle approval gathering. i.e.: Am I losing my mind, being overly critical or do my friends see what I see?

It was a Friday night and my tiny cottage was quickly brimming over with those I love and respect the most. We indulged in copious amounts of cocktails and laughs as we awaited the arrival of Prince Charming…who upon his unfashionably late arrival proceeded to dismantle the happy-go-lucky revelry in less than 2.5 minutes. I could see it on their faces and hear it in their voices…it was a unanimous decision…this would be our last date.

Stuck in a commitment that I would’ve done anything to get out of we made our way to the white party. I did my best to be cordial, but his aloof attitude and rude demeanor towards my friends was making it nearly impossible. Another quip out of his mouth and I had no choice but to tell him he should just go. Unfortunately, his over-indulgence in Jack and Coke…and coke was making him a force to be reckoned with. I knew better than to try and reason with a coked up alcoholic so I opted for avoidance and stayed on the dance floor with my girls to devise an escape plan.

Note to self: never turn your back on the enemy!

Shocked by the sudden look of horror on my gal-pals face, I turned to respond to a tap on my shoulder.

“You’re a cunt!”

Splash!

Yep, that’s right folks, my freeloading date sat at our VIP table, poured the collection of back-washed cocktails into one glass, stormed out onto the dance floor, shouted absurdities at me and then threw the concoction all over my new white party ensemble!

Oh wait, it gets better…

I was quickly whisked off the dance floor and hurled to our table by a very large bouncer who insisted on patting me dry. As appreciative as I was, I was actually more relieved that the psychotic lunatic had left the building! The word traveled fast and within minutes our entire group had reassembled at our table. Laughing hysterically at the ridiculousness of it all I just wanted to go back out and dance….I wasn’t going to let that loser ruin my night! The inner circle disagreed and decided to escort me back to the cottage.

The final lesson of the evening: do NOT announce where you keep your hide-a-key!

It was a well known fact amongst my inner circle that if someone decided to go home early they could use my hide-a-key. Being the dumb that I was, I made the mistake of reminding them where it was within earshot of the mad man.

Apparently, dousing me with a disgusting cocktail mixture wasn’t enough for my batshitcrazy date. However, leaving the club, going to the cottage, using my hide-a-key to let himself in and then robbing me did seem to satisfy his rage and discontent.

Match.com…it’s okay to look, just don’t touch!

So there you have it kids, the match.com summer trifecta that caused me to seriously consider lesbianism! Now, I’d like to know what are the greatest or most significant lessons you’ve learned in your dating career? Have you ever considered hanging up your hat, switching teams or begging the dating gods for mercy?  What about scary stalkers, dramatic attention whores and drug addicts in disguise…how do you deal with deal breakers?

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