Sunday, February 25, 2007

Picture Perfect

Internet "dating" is not at all how it used to be. Way back when, it was an exchange of emails which led to meeting, which may have led to something else. And if not, at least it was fun.

It's not fun anymore.

With .jpegs and .gifs and webcams, I find that most guys just seem to want a bunch of pictures first, before they are willing to commit to even a cup of coffee. And those pictures are in addition to the pictures already posted in the profile. Take this lovely exchange that took place between Pete and me:

1st email exchange = fun
P: Anyone who makes jokes about eating a squirel insted of chocolate is ok with me! How come your pic' is so blurry? Worried about the animal rights groups tracking you down?

Me: Ack! Is my picture blurry? Or have you just had too much red wine? I'm picking the latter...

Now spill!

2nd email exchange = cute
P: Sheish, I hope you like a man with purple teeth from Pinot Noir? LOL NO! That pic is foggy without wine, maybe it's just low pixel's. It's ok though, just answer a few questions to clear up the blurry parts. #1 Why are you sticking your tongue out in the photo? #2 Is that a tatoo? #3 Don't you think thee eyepatch is a little bit much?

(Please note that I didn't write him off, even though at age 50, he still doesn't know how to spell "sheesh," "eye patch," and "tattoo," and he uses "LOL" which is an overused acronym that I loathe, despise and detest. If people are really laughing out loud at the stupid things they write, we as a people, are in serious need of the humor police.)

While my response was lengthy and rather witty (I won't bore you with the transcript here), I did realize that perhaps he had a point...maybe I should put a few more pictures with my profile. So, I added more, and approved them within 24 hours and posted them.

However, that still wasn't enough for Pete. He continued to badger me in every email that he wanted more pictures, while he dodged my questions and refused to tell me anything about himself, other than his name.

Major red flag.

I decided that he just wasn't worth the effort. After the fourth email came, demanding yet more pictures, I just stopped responding. It became obvious that chicken-necked Pete (believe me, he looked his 50 years of age, if not more) was more shallow than his wrinkled old prune face gave him the right to be.

However, there aren't too many men who can escape the lure of the Delicious Pamelicious (except for Carlos Faura, damn his resolve!), so I found yet another email waiting for me this morning:

P: Hellooooooo? Did your wild life catch up to you? Where did you go?

Me: While my wild life did indeed catch up with me, I also tired quickly of your constant demands for more photos, without any substance in your emails (i.e. information about yourself). The focus on photos highlighted a shallowness I am unwilling to deal with.

Hopefully your request for photos will not turn off the next woman you contact.

And then I did what any self respecting female of a certain age would do, I blocked his wrinkly ass from sending me any more email.

Take that, Prune Face!

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