Speed Dating - The Shelby Cole Perspective

                While I was doing research for the speeddate.com blog, it dawned on me that since I had already survived a Plenty of Fish Dance, another real life singles event wouldn't be all that bad.  One of my friends had brought to my attention this company that holds speed dating sessions at Bossa Nova, so on a whim, I decided to investigate.  Convincing my buddy Chuck to come along as a buffer as well as to engage in what I hoped would be high levels of entertainment, we pre registered paying $25 dollars for this event, and went in to it totally blind.

                Neither of us had ever gone speed dating before, and it was almost as if fate was intervening with the both of us during the week leading up to the event, because in conversations with each other, it felt like the AT&T speed dating commercial (the one where the guy tries telling the girl everything he thinks she wants to hear and she calls him out via his profile) was playing more frequently leading Chuck and I to believe this was going to be a total disaster.

                I emailed the event coordinator because I'm a girl, and wanted to know what people wear to these things.  After getting a response of "I tell everyone to dress as if you are going out on a first date," I concluded that this lady was about as helpful as a blind man trying to explain color to a deaf guy.  I was instructed to wear blue in recognition of Autism Awareness, and being that most of the men that message me on dating websites suffer from undiagnosed cases of it, I felt it was only appropriate that I comply.

                When Chuck arrived at my house, surprisingly we both were nervous wrecks.  The only detail about this event was that it was: Business Professionals 27-39.  Chuck was worried if he needed to bring his A game, or a harpoon incase he had to go on a whale hunt, where I was worried if I needed to bring my A game, or fill up my gas tank in preparation of having someone ask me to drive them home to their mothers house.  Going in to this completely blind was making my stomach churn, considering with the POF dance, I knew exactly what I was getting in to. 

                As we made our way down to Bossa Nova, my mind started racing.  Part of me was hoping that it would be a good time full of nice people, where the other part of me was hoping it would trump the POF dance experience and make an excellent blog.  Arriving at 6:40 as the event coordinator requested, Chuck and I mutually decided that we would make our initial decision of the evening based on when we walked through the door...

                Walking in, we were greeted by the event coordinator, who as I suspected, was cheerful and positive.  Looking around the room, there were 14 tables set up leading to the discovery that 28 people signed up for this event. There were only a couple of guys at this point, so Chuck and I decided to hit up the bar, which would end up being the beginning of the end for me.  10 minutes after we arrived, I was still the only girl that was there.  I'm freaking out at this point.  What if I'm the only girl to show up?  Granted it would be like a real life version of the Bachelorette, however I was most certainly not prepared to take on 1 guy let alone 14.  Being in a positive mood, I figured if life was going to hand me lemons this evening,  for the $7 I was paying for my drinks, the unfriendly bartender better be filling my cup with enough vodka to get an army drunk. 

                Finally other girls started to show up, and I was already 2 drinks and 1 shot deep so rather than stopping like a normal mature individual who is serious about dating someone would, I just kept on drinking like a frat boy.  I met a very nice girl, who was 38 and didn't look a day over 25 named Alexa* *names are being changed.  She was pretty much in the same boat that I was in as far as the whole dating scene, and it was as if I was talking to the 10 year future version of myself, which I found comforting.  Trying to pass her off to Chuck, and clearly seeing that she wasn't interested, the 3 of us made are way to our designated tables, me with not 1 but 2 $7 drinks in hand.  Feeling a bit loosened up, confident and positive for a change, the rules were explained and away we went.

                You get 6 minutes to sell yourself.  6 Minutes to discover if you are compatible with a person that is bullshitting you with all of their good qualities that they have to offer, because they are trying to get you to like them.  Maybe this is one of the many reasons that I am single, but I don't like to bullshit.  I refuse to sit and try to convince someone why I would make a good partner.  There's enough bullshit in politics that I purposely don't follow, so if a stranger is meeting me for the first time, they are getting the real me.

                After explaining how speed dating works, it was go time.  The first date was a little rough.  Both of us were new to speed dating, and where it wasn't awkward,  both of us being virgins to the entire experience, rather than actually getting to know each other, I dedicated a good 3 minutes on a semi drunken rant about how terrible Asians  are at parking cars.  After the first date was over, I was in the zone.  I kept thinking to myself "I got this" followed by, "where is the waitress with my beverage." 

                The second date was when I started finding my confidence and niche.  He was a Dr. starting a residency at a Pittsburgh hospital.  Most girls get lady wood the minute they realize someone is a Doctor/Lawyer/High Paid individual, but not me.  He really wasn't my type at all.   Instantly thinking of Lam (since she is a nurse) I played the dating angle with the hopes to get instantly in to the friend zone.  "There aren't any hot nurses where  you work that you can just boink in the break room?"  To which he replied, "No, not at all."  He then proceeded to tell me how difficult it was in his profession being a male and trying to get respected.  I literally LOL'ed.  Really? It was at that point that I said to him, "Well you're a Dr., find a plastic surgeon buddy to give you a vagina and boobs and maybe you will get some respect." He laughed.

                My third date was a Buffalo transplant who moved to Pittsburgh.  He opened up with, "So your name is Shelby, is your dad a car guy?"  In any other normal situation I would of walked away instantly with a face palm and not look back.  I get I have a unique name and anything manly that a guy can tie to something such as the name of a car, boat, or brand of hunting/fishing equipment, however if I had a dollar for every time I have had that line used on me, I would have about 100 dollars.  Slowly drinking myself in to an alcohol induced coma, it struck a nerve.  I looked at him and without even blinking an eye said, "Oh I see your name is XXX, where you named after a president?"  He chuckled, and we recovered the conversation to not be awkward for the remaining 5 minutes and 50 seconds.   

                It was at this point that things get a little fuzzy for me.  I noticed that I had screwed up the sheet that I was given that allows you to keep track of who you are meeting and taking notes to remember who is who, so like a 2 year old child, I called out to the event coordinator whining about how I messed up my sheet, to which she gave me a new one and I regrouped.  After 6 dates they gave us a break, to which I touched base with Chuck to see how he was doing.  We went to the bar to get another round of drinks, and made our way back up to the singles playground.

                For the record, anyone that is a male and is shorter than me, I consider to be that of midget like status.  My first date off the break was with a nice shorter gentleman.  He had such a good heart, and I instantly picked up on why he was single.  He was that genuinely "good" guy type that gets put in to the friend zone because he has no manly edge.  It was as this point that I told my new found friend about my evaluation of him, to which I told him to "stop being such a pussy around women."  I think I slightly offended him, but I am a firm believer that alcohol is like truth serum, and I was getting to the point of becoming an oracle of knowledge.  Call me vain, call me shallow, but romantically, I like men that can protect me in bar fights, not use me as a shield.

                My next date was with a guy that I could barley pronounce his name because it had 1 too many syllables for a drunk person speak properly without sounding like they had a dick in their throat.  Rather than attempting to butcher his name, and seeing that he was slightly as drunk as me, I asked him if I could call him Simba, considering his real name reflected that of which I would expect from a Lion King sequel.  Boy did he like the sound of his own voice, and normally being as tipsy as I was, a homeless man could of turned in to a vagina whisper at that point, my drunken instincts told me that something was up with this guy, and I decided to play along, talking to him like some dumb drunk sorortute would, stroking his drunken ego, while entertaining myself at this whole new level of face to face doucherey. 

                Unlike Chuck having a vivid sober memory of every date he went on, I do not. There is really only one other date that I can remember simply for the fact that this guy was super intense.  He literally leaned half way across the table invading my personal space and stared me straight in the eyes as if he was trying to go all mentalist on me.  He did not break eye contact whatsoever.  He then asked me the most annoying question that a single person can be asked, "So tell me why are you single?"  That also is a question that hits an apparent drunken nerve with me.  I started carrying on, cursing like a truck driver apparently about how I meet emotionally retarded men and every time I find someone I like it doesn't work out and blablabla.  I was hoping this would just instantly turn him off because he was really starting to freak me out.  That is when he looked at me and said that I was one of the most negative people he has ever met, considering my abusage of swear words.   It was at that point, that Shelby did her signature move.  I then proceeded to make up an entire story about how I was in a mentally abusive relationship and that I have severe issues that stem from it, allowing me not to love myself and that's why I can't love anybody else with a slight fake tear in my eye.  In my alcohol haze I instantly thought, "Ok this has to work, I hope he thinks I am unstable."  As the bell ran to end the date, still not breaking eye contact with me he says "Well now that I know about your past, I would really like to get to know you better."  Shit it didn't work....

                There is one other cloudy memory that I have with a guy that talked about his love of outdoorsy manly things.  He reminded me of Lance Armstrong considering he would talk about running, working out, and just listening to him talk about working out felt as if I was in fact working out.  He had mentioned that he wasn't looking for anything serious at the moment just someone that he could be "friends" with and go from there.  It was at that moment that I started talking about how many grandchildren I was hoping to have (totally skipping over my own children) and the hopes that I would be a GILF one day.  Hoping this would repel him, I tried to get the conversation as awkward as possible, even going as far as telling him how I want to name my first child after Ariel the Little Mermaid.  It worked...finally....

                Winding down I was waiting for Chuck to be my date, so that I could break the seal.  Since I was sitting down the entire time, I was unaware of how drunk I was at that point.  Chuck comes over, I stand up, and it hits me like mushroom stamp to the forehead, I'm pretty tanked.  I tell Chuck to hurry up in fear that I may pee on myself,  when not paying attention to what I was doing because we were walking and talking trying to hurry up to get back to dating, that I walked right in to the men's room...with Chuck.  There was an older man that was a bathroom attendant.  He looked at me with utter confusion as I walked in, still talking to Chuck.  It was at this point that I looked at him and said "I think I'm drunker than I think I am."  The bathroom attendant bursts in to laughter proceeded to escort me to the Women's room.  I could hear Chuck laughing as I was walking away at what had just happened, and we hurried back to find out that the event coordinator had paused the event for us.  Chuck and I sat down and began our 6 minute date when out of nowhere, in mid sentence I burped...out loud and unintentionally, drawing even more unwanted attention to myself  to the guy who would be dating me next. The last time I did this was at Lam's rehearsal dinner, to which my friends scowled at me, lucky for me, everyone around me at this event laughed and actually encouraged my lude behavior.

                It was finally over, and it was decision time.  Again trying to keep an open mind, I decided that I would just pick every guy that I met, to judge how impressionable I am.  Upon receiving the results the next morning 9 out of 14 men wanted to date me.  Chuck got 3 girls that wanted to date him. 

                After the exhausting dating was over, we migrated our way back over to the bar with our new found friends.  Apparently, I must be quite the entertainer when I am drinking, considering I had a group of 5 of the speed daters talking to me.  Not that it is any surprise to those of you that have had the privilege of drinking with me, but I gotta say, that night I was in fact the life of the party. I started walking around the bar trying to get an after party going.  I invited everyone and by that I mean everyone at the bar to come to Jekyll and Hyde in the South Side regardless of whether they participated in speed dating or not.  I pretty much had taken over this event, because if I wouldn't of been a drunken entertaining mess and I was a guy at that event, I would of been pissed paying 25 dollars. 

                Me, Chuck and 3 of our new found friends made our way to Jekyll for some more adult beverages, karaoke and a Shelby must have...planking.  Apparently there are video's of this that I hope never surface and of me doing drunken Karaoke and grinding on an old man. Chuck was unaware that these things tend to happen when I am given constant Cherry Vodka and Cokes.  This was Chuck's first time witnessing the elusive "Drunken Shelby Beast" so I'm very glad he came out of it unscathed.   The next morning, I had already received  3 emails, and 2 Face book requests.  I even got an email from the short guy, telling me that I offended him, to which at this point, I don't exactly remember how, but I'm sure it had to do with a conversation after speed dating was over.  Even though I apparently offended him, to date, I have received 5 or 6 emails from him, to which I have only responded once. 

                Overall, would I recommend speed dating?  Yes if you want to meet people, as long as there is alcohol involved.  I really did meet some really cool guys.  Where most of them I didn't really feel a spark with, I do think that I earned a badge in being an excellent wing woman, and I hope I can help a lot of these guys find what they are looking for.  They weren't the emotionally retarded guys like the ones that message me on dating websites, these were mostly guys looking for relationships, and putting themselves out there which is very honorable.   Unfortunately for me, I did not find love at Bossa Nova that night, but I did meet an exceptional group of young business professionals. 

-Keeping it real

Shelby

Speed Dating - The Chuck Hull Perspective

So here it is, April 12th, and I'm about to venture into something that I never

thought I'd do.  I'm about to enter the world of Speed Dating.  I'm not sure who came up with this concept, or even how it started, but it's definitely something I never thought I'd do.  Thanks to Shelby, I now am doing this. And thanks again to Shelby, I'm not doing it alone.  But, let's make sure I set the record straight. She didn't talk me into it. She didn't have to persuade me. She said "wanna do speed dating with me?"  I pretty much said, "why not?"

   

                First a quick little note about me.  My name is Chuck, and I'm a 39 year old single guy living in Pittsburgh.  I'd like to picture myself as one of the nice guys out there, but I'm sure I have my moments just like everyone else. After all, I'm only human.  I'm not sure why I'm single, but that's probably one of the dumbest questions I think I've ever heard anyone ask anyone.  "You're such a nice guy, why are you single?"   Oh gee, I don't know, probably because your uptight ass won't let me get past first base, or even a hello?  (See, I'd like to think I'm a nice guy, but I have the same bitterness that lives inside us all.  haha)

    

               How did I meet Shelby you may ask? Well, you probably won't, but I'll tell you anyway.  Outside of my normal job, I DJ on the side. I was working at the Boardwalk (remember that shit hole?) when I met Shelby. She was a rep for Iron City at the time, and of course since I thought she was pretty damn attractive, I was gonna chat her up and see what I could get out of her. (not that way so stop it.)   It was summer, hot, and I was thirsty, and she provided me with plenty of free IC Lites. That's how I roll. But seriously, I chatted her up with my coworkers, and we just kinda became friends. I don't hang out with her as much as many of you  (to which in her drunken state on Thursday she reminded me at least a dozen times that we should

hang out more. I'd agree,) but it was time to hang out with her for an adventure in Speed Dating.

             Speed dating.  How was it? Would I do it again? Was it worth the $25.00 sign up
fee?  I'll get to that later.  I head over to Shelby's right after work to pick her up, and we're both a bit nervous.  Like any normal guy, I like to make sure I look nice when I'm in a group setting you know, just in case I may meet someone.  And, like any single guy should....VALUE THE OPINION OF YOUR FEMALE FRIENDS!  I took three extra shirts with me to Shelby's and pretty much told her to dress me.  She did.  Yeah, I've got that backwards for sure.  We were not sure what to expect so we're making jokes about the kinds of people we may meet. Will there be really old people? Will there be creepers, nut jobs, baldies, extra large, etc.  Not don't get
me wrong, good people come in all shapes and sizes, but we're both a little freaked out about what we're getting into.  I know Shelby wanted to do this for her blog, but I'm sure she didn't mind meeting someone as well.  Me? Well, I'm 39 and single, and I'm doing it to back up Shelby, but at the same time I'm thinking it would be nice to meet someone. I've never been married and I'm fucking 39.  This for me, is a huge step. I've been on dates before, but it's been a long long time.  Oh crap, the drive is over and we're here.

                We walk into Bossa Nova, and we're not sure where this shit is going down.

We're a bit relieve to see quite a few people there.  It's about 6:30pm, and there
are probably about 30-40 people here.  Not too bad at all.  It was a nice mix of people, so we're both thinking positive things.  We ask the hostess where the speed dating registration is and she points to our right, and there is no one there but the people holding the event.  Yeah, those people?  They're not here for the speed dating.  Shelby and I get our name tags, and they brief us the night and we decide we now need a drink.  I don't see any women yet.  It's pretty much Shelby and myself, oh and a guy named  Guy 1.  I'm not going to use names.   He was pretty open and started talking to use and we were finally joined by another woman.  I think

this was when Shelby and I kinda ignored the other guy to talk to the woman, and well I had my reason for doing so, and I'm sure Shelby's was because she found this conversation more interesting.  Shelby found a new best friend and we're not drink two into the night, and we haven't even started our "dating" yet.  SIDEBAR - There was a group of cougars at the bar that asked what our name tags were for, and we said Speed Dating.  Then good old Shelby proceeds to tell the Cougars that "this is my best friend Chuck. He's single, and he's really awesome, and you all should talk to him."  Ain't she the best!  They did say they were all married, and she asked "happily?"  Gotta love her!

  

                 We see more people walking in finally for the speed dating, and we do a quick

shot, and head up to where we needed to be.  There are finally more woman, and seemingly more men.  We find out they had 14 men and 12 woman registered.  Two women did not show up.  So it's 14 to 10, and Shelby likes her odds.  At least I think she does.  They go over there rules and it's pretty much this: You get six minutes on your date, and you can talk about anything you want.  After the time is up, they'll ring a bell, and the men proceed to the next number.  The tables are marked 1-14, and you move up each time.  I'm to start at number 11.  Great. I'm starting out alone....again....which is pretty much why I'm here right?  After all the rules are explained, the host asks if we have any questions.  Well, I'm kinda goofy, and a
whole lot of nervous, and maybe a bit tipsy and I blurt out "Yeah, where's my date?"
 In a goofy dorky kinda of way.  That was met with a good old fashioned patented Shelby eye  roll, which was then met in turn with a stern finger pointing from me while lip sinking "don't roll your eye I'm scared shit less."

                It starts and my self and the other three dateless guys talk to the host in just normal small talking fashion.  She rings the bell and I get up and move to the next table. I sit alone for six minutes staring off into space. Ring Ring, table 13...take a call from my parents...ring ring table 14 and I'm still sitting looking at the ceiling.  I shoulda danced on it.  Anyhow, when I look back at this, I moved three times from one empty table to the next.  I don't even know why I moved because there was no one at any of the tables. You'd think I'd be smart enough to just stay where I was and talk to everyone else until I had my change to get to table 1. Nope, I moved to three empty tables and pretty much felt stupid.  But ring ring....time to talk to girl number 1.

                I'm pretty loosened up at this point and just start talking with a simple how

are you blah blah.  I opened up with the fact that she was the first girl I got to talk to so far, but after spending almost four dates with myself, I found me to be pretty awesome, and she had some tough competition. She actually laughed at that, but it's all about the delivery I guess.  She seemed very nice, and it turns out that my world got small talking with her.  She worked for a company that my company deals with on a regular basis.  We were both very familiar with each others jobs.   Yep, world got small. 

               Girl 2 was her friend and co-worker, and this one was just as nice.  This one I was immediately attracted too.  Great smile, gorgeous eyes, and just plain wowed me.  All of a sudden, bell rings.  I wasn't ready to leave.  Six minutes goes by fast. Real fast.  We took a quick break for snacks, but then back to business.

               Girl 3 was just a year younger than me, and I found her very attractive as

well.  Shelby adored her and was really pulling for us to be a match.  I could kinda tell though that I was probably not her type, but still, I gave it my all in six minutes and enjoyed chatting with her.

                Girl 4 was where things started to slide.   Right off the bat she states that she has questions for me.  I pretty much ended up being grilled.  She was basically interviewing me.  And not like in a nice way either.  Just the tone of her voice was all serious and business.  She then goes "OK I'm done with my questions I guess we can talk now."  Um...huh?  Ok, Chuck charm time. I'm gonna give her the benefit of the doubt and still be me and chat her up.  "So, how are you tonight, are you having a good time, or what made you do something like this.'    She replied with "well, after four lousy years with my ex....."   Screeeech.  Yeah, only a minute into our six, and she's talking about an ex with such hatred.  This conversation is clearly over.  She brought the ex up a total of 3 times in six minutes.  Yeah.  NEXT!

               Girl 5 and 6 were also friends and very young.  24?  I thought the minimum age was

supposed to be 27?  Oh, and girl 5? She wasn't even from here. She was from out of town visiting (well that's what girl 6 told me.)  She was very nice, but she also kinda wasted the time of 14 men by being here.  Thanks for that.  Girl 7 didn't seem too interested in chatting, but the first words out of her mouth was "I need a Jager Bomb."  I hope she realized she was perfect, because any girl that likes Jager is a keeper. 

               Girl 8 was a single mom, and extremely cute as well. I give her all the credit in the world because she seemed very nervous and a little shy, but for a single mom to give speed dating a shot takes guts, and that to me is just awesome.

               Girl 9 was our girl Shelby!  We took the opportunity to go to the bathroom since we

knew each other, and Shelby pretty much walked into the men's room with me because she wasn't paying attention blabbing away about the guys she was meeting.  The bathroom attendants just stared at her like um.... I couldn't stop laughing.  Shelby admitted that she might be drunk, and I told her I figured.  When we got back to the tables, we found out they paused all the dates while we walked away.  Oops.  We told them we knew each other and just decided to go to use the restroom. Then Shelby burped. Loudly.  I could not contain my laughter.  She is the best speed dater ever. Hands down.  I do this again, I'm not doing it without her.  

The last girl looked like she was about as interested in me as she was the other 13 guys.

That was it.  The dates were over. Now what?  Well, at the start, we were given
a sheet of paper.  We were to write down each dates name, comments and circle either "let's date" or "sorry not interested."  I circled four let's dates and pretty much ney to everyone else.  I got my results early the next morning.   Three of the let's dates, said the same for me, so they considered us a match.  They also provided information for girls that said yes to you, but I said no too "just in case you were really undecided and want to give them a second chance."   I pretty much know who said no to me.  Their loss because like I said, I spent the first 24 minutes with myself and I'm just plain fucking awesome.

               OK we're done, and now what?  It's only 9 o'clock on a Thursday night and we don't want this to be a waste of a night. Shelby is pretty drunk, but not too drunk, and she's ready to party.  I can't lie, I was ready to go out too.  I was wide awake (thanks to 5 hour energy.)  We did get a chance to talk more to some of our dates, and we did try to get everyone else to come with us. Well, actually that's a lie. Drunk Shelby did.  I knew not what I was in for. I only read about it, but now I get to witness it first hand.  Truly the best speed date partner ever. 

               We went to Jekyl and Hyde for some karaoke action.  Android and iPhones are all fine and dandy, but the video cameras lack light in a darkened bar.  I may have recorded Shelby's

drunken rendition of "I will Survive" but we'll never see it because the video is so dark.  Mind you, even drunk, she kicks ass on vocals.  We also will not be able to see our local hero Big Tom busting out get low, and good old Shelby putting out the bump and grind on our long haired

friend again due to lack of lighting.  Four of the guys from the speed date did show up, and were all very eager to talk with our Shelby.  She made four new friends that night.   Go Shelby!

What did I learn from the night?

               I love Shelby and love being her wing man. She however sucks as a wing woman. At least that's what she told me about four times.It's actually not as hard for me to talk to woman as I thought it was.  And as it turns out, some if them even like talking with me. Bonus.Six minutes is not a long time. It, in fact, is practically six seconds.Shelby's mom somehow knows I rock, and we are now Facebook Friends. Awesome.Planking on the floor of Jekyl and Hyde is NOT recommended. There you have it, well from what I can remember.  Thursday was a fun adventure, and I would probably do it again. I know what I may have written may not have been as entertaining and crazy as what is normally in this blog, but Shelby wanted to try something different.  In this case you got me, Chuck (aka DJ Qwik at Jekyl and Hyde every other Friday night hint hint) and what is was like for me in the world of dating.  I came out of this with restored confidence believe it or not, and I hold out hope that there is someone out for me, and it's not too late just because I'm 39.  Oh, I also learned that I need to not buy as many Cherry Vodka cokes for Shelby as I did.  She likes to plank when you give her that many. 

Keepin it real from a guys perspective.....Chuck

Speeddate.com - A chalk full of fucking weirdo's

            In a desperate attempt to capitalize on the lonely at heart, some genius decided to develop a dating website that allows you to communicate for free with people for 5 minutes (unless you are dumb enough to pay for a subscription, then you get more time) similar to a speed dating session. You also get the option to send 1 message to someone, to which if they respond, you must subscribe to read.   I have never been an advocate that singles should ever have to pay to communicate with potential partners, however  I decided to check this site out to see how legit it actually was.

            The problem with this site is that just about anyone from all walks of life and all areas of the planet can message you.  After having a drunken St. Patrick's day revelation paired with almost a year of yearning for someone who lives out of state, I realized falling for/chasing anyone that lives outside of an hour radius of you is about as useless as a limp dick.  Yet on this site, it is chalk full of people that are hopeful that some stupid girl will travel to the ends of the earth for love.  I would not be surprised if the ID channel had enough material based on this website to create an entire series based on hopelessly romantic people that actually have traveled out of state to meet people "offline".

            I would now care to share with you some of the messages that I received from this website, proving yet again, another website that is an epic fail in connecting normal singles to one another.

63/M/Baltimore, MD

would Love to get to know you better.

Dear Gramps:

            It's not your message that creeped me out, it was simply the fact that you seem to think I have some sort of "Anna Nicole" look about me, which if anything is quite insulting.  You have officially became the oldest man to message me on a dating website.  Not that this is much of an accomplishment, I will say I am quite impressed that: 1. You actually know how to use a computer without the help of your immediate family members, 2. You managed to upload a picture of yourself showcasing how many wars you have witnessed and 3. You still have big, (yet I don't want to imagine how wrinkly they are) balls to message someone who is old enough to be your daughter.  I'm sorry that things at the senior center are not working for you when it comes to finding you a partner that you can share the rest of your short life with, but where manthers preying on girl my age are terrible, grandmathers preying on girls my age are just terrifying.  I'm sure that in your search you will find some young dumb gold digging tramp that will bite and take full advantage of your pension and manipulate you to change your will, however where I have very loose morals to begin with, I'd much rather take my chances sleeping  with a guy that can't get it up due to alcohol consumption, rather than can't get it up without the usage of Viagra. 

21/M/Brandford Canada

Hey, what color underwear are you wearing?

Dear Polly Panty -

            I'm glad that with all that is wrong with the world, your focus is not my stance on the homeless, world peace, or birth control - your inquiring mind wants to know what color underwear I am wearing.  I can understand why you resort to online dating to meet women.  Clearly, this line has probably gotten you smacked in the face, kicked in the nuts and/or resulted in a pepper spraying incident when you tried it at the bar.  At what point did you think it would be good to try it on a dating website?  Idolizing Glenn Quagmire is not a positive life goal.   I don't know if Canadian women are just that easy, dumb or desperate, but in the US, that line wouldn't even work on a Hill District prostitute.  I had a friend who dated a guy that she caught sniffing her underwear, I can only imagine that you are a distant relative of his.  You may want to consider your sexuality, considering you may be the only "straight" guy on this planet that is concerned if I color coordinate undergarments.  It makes me wonder, if I would of replied "what is underwear" if you would of instantly nutted in your pants, or if your dong would of inverted back in to your stomach. 

19/M/Churchill, NY

hey sëxy, do you want a young online sëx slave???

Dear Mr. Slave -

    I'm not seeing the benefit to having a young online sex slave.  1. You are 19 years old, if I wanted something with tiny nuts that needed trained, I'd much rather invest in a baby squirrel.  The fact that you are so young, and offering up your penis to me on a cyber plate, leads me to think that you have more mental issues than the cracked out version of Charlie Sheen.  I must have missed the memo that cyber sex was cool again?  I am intrigued as to how you would be my slave via a computer.  Would that mean you would try to stick your dick in the webcam?  Or would you stroke your mouse in a sexual way while licking a lollypop?  I'm still not seeing how this would be beneficial.  Where it would be quite entertaining to see what exactly outrageous, demoralizing things I would make you do, watching a baseball player scratch his balls is more of a turn on.  I think you will have better luck finding a dominant on Chat Roulette. I have better things to do with my life and with my vibrator than waste any AA's on this conversation.

42/M/Johnstown, PA

hello Shelby, I must confress, your profile has really captured my attention and i will love to share in the joy of your life, in fact i want to get to know you if you don't mind. I will be glad if we get to know each other and become friends. You never know we could become the success story as in good couples. I want to fine someone to be in good relationship with that right person. Love is not about finding a person, but creating a right relationship. It's not about how much love you have in the beginning, but how much love you buid till the end. A relationship is a two way street. It's never all your fault or the other person. If your are interested...... Send back so we can learn to know each other. Hope to hear from you soon.

Dear Sammy Sensitive -

    I'm sad for you that you are 42 years old and your balls still have yet to drop.  I get that since you are a bit older than me, that you may have more worldly knowledge, however with all the bullshit about love that you wrote in this message, and the fact that you are on an online dating website looking for it, leads me to believe that you do not know your ass from a hole in the ground.  Watching the Lifetime network every chance you get will not help you find "the one", nor will it help you better understand what women want.  It sounds to me like you want to be featured on an episode of "A Wedding Story."   It's clear you have never been married, because where a relationship may be a "2 way street", a marriage is a mutiny.    Once you get married, as a male, all of your opinions are invalid and you are always wrong, and sex is withheld until you realize it's her way or the highway.  Just like there is no crying in baseball, there is no reasoning in marriage.  I learned at 18 that fairy tales don't  exists, does Disney need to make a happy endingless fairy tale just for you to get the point?

33/Pittsburgh, PA

well to be fair to all of the men, you make it difficult to not think about sex the way you fill those jeans. :) How you doin?

Dear Dr. Douche

      Well to be fair to all women, do you really think I'm going to engage in any conversation with you considering you use the terms "fill those jeans" and "sex" in the same sentence.  Your about as smooth as a rock garden.   From 2 sentences I have already decided that you are 1 of 2 types of guys.  Type #1: Below average looking guy that thinks he's hotter than what he is due to surrounding himself with women that have already rejected him but keep them as "best friends".   You keep these girls around to boost your ego so that when you talk to women online (which is your only means of communicating with them), you feel confident in saying, "well my girl friends think I'm attractive. This leads you to believe that you do not in fact come off like a total creeper but a "cute" guy because you have "friends" lying to you to give you a sense of false confidence.  Type #2:  You got a lot of tail in your hay day and are realizing that you are getting older, less attractive and 18 year old girls aren't in to you as much as they used to be.    You nonchalant try to play off sexual innuendos with the hopes that it will come off as a compliment, not knowing that it makes you look weird and unknowingly showcases your ass fetish.  Your track record probably consists of girls that are butter faces, because you are at the point in your life where you are so lonely and desperate that you will stick it in any available hole that walks your way. 

19/M/Joliet, IL

aye:)

        

Dear Captain Ghetto-

     Judging by the 1 profile picture that you have posted that shows your backwards hat, well trimmed facial hair and tattoo on your neck, I'm going to guess that you are either culturally confused or your profession as a wigger pirate isn't getting you anywhere at all with the wenches.    Fortunately for you, you have time to 1. Go to college, 2. grow out of your Fubu wearing, West Coast rapper stage and 3. Make English your primary language and make Pirate Ebonics a hobby.  Where it may have been cool when I was 18 years old, the thrill of that is gone.  The only gangster in my life involves rap music on my Ipod.  The lame smiley face you put after your one word introduction leads me to believe that you probably think you are being cute when in reality it should be a crime worthy of firing squad.  I'm sure you think running the drug operation out of the Burger King that you work at may make you cool, but it really just makes you look pathetic.  Since you must be 18 to be on Speedate, maybe you should cancel your membership and go trolling the local malls for a 16 year old girl with daddy issues. Being that you are of legal age, you can be their parental escort to see the next Pirates of the Caribbean movie where you can "spit some game" and compare your life to that of Johnny Depp's imaginary character. 

38/M/Sewickley, PA

I want to put my cock in your mouth

Dear Dicky Do Da -

            Wow you are quite the class act.  Let me put it this way friend, you can want in one hand and shit in the other and see which one gets filled up first.  Maybe instead of relying on you porn fantasies and internet dating sites, you should stick to what you know best: hookers and strip clubs.  You clearly suffer from an extreme case of "cock envy" where you think that every girl with a mouth wants your potentially diseased dick in it.  My only curiosity to see your penis would be to witness how much skin you have rubbed off it from jacking off to one too many lipstick commercials, because I'm going to assume you don't get out much.  You would be better off setting up a glory hole in a women's rest top on route 79 than attempting to romance a female.  You are probably single because any relationship that you have had, rather than presents on holidays you probably tied a ribbon around your cock and considered it a "gift".  Where I understand that a blow job is the sentimental equivalent of receiving flowers and clearly you put your penis on a pedestal, I am sure there is a girl out there that find this appealing and allow you to put your cock in her mouth.   I also hope that she rakes the hell out of it, draws blood, and you scream like a little bitch, or you get herpes...I'd be ok with either outcome. 

Keeping it real -

Shelby

The Plenty of Fish Dance Experience

                A couple of weeks ago, I realized that I have a self diagnosed case of a "1/3 of a life crisis."  Even though I have over 6 months to go, during a drunken moment of clarity, I realized that my life is not even close to where I thought it would be.  Where I have a great job, financially stable, and no baggage, I always thought by this point in my life I would have someone to share things with, be a home owner, maybe a couple of kids and a dog, you know livin' the dream.  Since that moment, I had days where I was depressed, disconnecting myself from my friends, letting stupid things at work get to me, and even almost bought a new car with the hopes of giving myself a false sense of meaning.  I was hoping it was just me PMSing, however when it lasted longer than 2 weeks, I knew something was up.  Fortunately for me, with the help of friends and Vodka,  I was able to snap out of my funk.

                You see my love life has dwindled in to next to nothing lately.  The only guys that contact me are ones that think I'm going to invite them over to hang out at 1 am.  Were I used to be flattered, it has just become a total turn off, considering  I know they only want 1 thing.  As a test, I always ask these guys if they would much rather do things like go out to dinner on another day, or go out in public for that matter to confirm my suspicions.  The minute they laugh me off, or say no or suggest we go "drinking", that is when the attraction gets turned off for me, and any texts after that are just plain annoying and I become the one saying "No, thank you."

                One random Friday Night not too long ago (if you are my FB friend then you know exactly when it was), I was sitting at home alone, debating on whether  or not to make my way to the casino, alone...to throw my money away in a desperate attempt to make myself feel better.  That is when I got a picture text from Maria that changed the course of my Friday night.

                For whatever reason, she had sent me a picture of a Plenty of Fish Dance invite that was taking place in Carnegie.  Knowing that I had been down in the dumps, she immediately called me and wanted to see if I wanted to go, knowing it would end up turning in to great blog material.  Boy was she right....  Looking at the guests that RSVP, the average age range was roughly 50.  Knowing what we were getting ourselves in to, we decided to run with it.  I put on a cute little party dress, made my way to Maria's and with Maria's boyfriend, Kevin at the ready, we made our way to Carnegie.

                As we pulled up to the designated location, we immediately discovered that this "dance" was in a church banquet hall.  Finding it interesting, we noticed that that parking lot was full.  As Maria, Kevin and I tried to figure out if there were actually a lot of people at this event, or if it was the "Kamakazie's" effect, we made our way to the door.

                side note:  The Kamakazie's effect is based on a bar in WV that we used to go to growing up.  Every time we would go there, the parking lot would be full, yet when we would walk inside there would be 20 people in the bar.   This meant that those 20 people would drive themselves to the bar, giving off the illusion to people driving past that the place was busy, when in fact it wasn't.

                As we entered the door, we were greeted by an older gentleman with gray hair.  Looking around the room, I instantly felt like I was in a real life AARP advertisement.  The median age of the 60 people at this dance was roughly 55.   As we paid the $8.00 cover, the gray haired gentleman then directed us to a table to sign up for "door prizes."  The door prize table consisted of the following: an $8.99 bottle of Yellow tail Wine, a plate of cookies someone baked, a gift card to some unknown place, and an AM/FM digital clock radio.  I was all for the clock radio, I mean come on you can never have one too many.

                Looking around the room, it was set up like a typical church hall Beaver County wedding.  There were round tables that sat 8 people, had table cloths and chips/cookies on them, and did I mention it was in a church banquet hall?  All eyes were on us as we searched for a 3 seats, together, preferably at an empty table.   Very rarely do I ever get uncomfortable about anything, however this was probably the first time in my life that I felt uncomfortable making heads turn.  As I watched the Cougars, Obese Woman and Grandcougars scowl at us, the Gray Haired men, Manther's  and real life versions of Glenn Quagmires were licking their lips as if their 4:30 dinner included free Apple Pie. 

                With 70s music blaring, and most of the geriatric parade out on the dance floor, we found an empty table (or so we thought) that was near the back of the room.  We sat down when out of nowhere a 50 something blonde hair women sits down.  Looking at us as if we were a threat to her chances of getting laid, she meanly told us that all the seats were taken.   We then proceeded to find a table in the very back of the room, sitting with two women, who turned out to be the coolest people ever.

                Their names were M and B (names have been shortened for privacy reasons).  B had just recently gotten out of a relationship and M was single, but more there for moral support.  I would guess they were in their mid to late 50s. Immediately I started asking them questions about POF and how they felt about it.  This was a BYOB event, so Maria brought some wine and we began the "getting to know our new friends" process.   That's when the excitement started...

                Within 20 minutes of being there, the DJ slowed it down, with some great slow songs from the 60s.  As we watched the parade make its way to the dance floor, we noticed that there was a lot of slow dancing going on.  Being the old man to old woman ratio was about 1 guy for every 4 women, by the first set of slow songs, looking around the room, there were only about 4 guys not dancing.  Once the Dj put on some more 70s music, Maria, Kevin and myself made our way to the dance floor.

                Kevin had decided not to reveal himself as a paramedic, in case there was a heart attack or a hip breaking incident because it was his first night off in a while, so if anyone asked, he sold insurance...car insurance and that was the story.  In order to prevent any turf wars with the cougars, Maria and I decided rather than to shake our asses like strippers, we would dumb ourselves down and do dances like the twist, and the sprinkler.  For once, not drawing attention to ourselves was the name of the game.  At one point I was convinced the DJ was conspiring against us, because he would play a song like "Staying Alive" and then switch things up to "Ridin' Solo."  I've accomplished some things in my life, but no one will ever understand how fucking hard it is to do the twist to a contemporary ass shaking song. 

                After 5 dance songs, the DJ played more slow ones, convincing myself that I was not at a singles mixer anymore, but I was at a wedding.  Our group of 5 decided to reclaim our table and sit out "Ladies Choice."  Upon arriving back at our table, our 2 new friends were greeted by a younger guy (who turned out to be 35) but he had the beard of a lumber jack and the body of a semi pro professional eater.  He took a liking to M.  The proceeded to chat each other up for a good 10 minutes, before we excused ourselves to go outside to cool off from the room that was filled with the stench of old spice and moth balls.  M and B joined us shortly after with their new "friend."  After he left, M proceeds to tell us about their conversation.  This "fellow" POF'er told her in the middle of their conversation that he would love to take her out sometime, but only if he could suck on her toes later...

                Trying not to laugh, I revealed the true reason that I was at this event.  I told them about this blog and how I enjoy exposing how stupid people can be.  They thought it was great, and we proceeded to exchange our stories about messages that we received, dates we had been on, it was at that moment that I felt like I had met the version of my future self in these women.  According to them, where the messages that I receive are somewhat vulgar, the messages that they receive are just as bad.  They got everything from 70 year olds asking what cup size they were, to 50 year old men asking them to fuck.  I instantly felt connected to them.

                When we walked back in to the room, to hear yet another set of slow songs playing, Maria and I gazed at the dance floor and almost fell over.  There were at least 5-6 couples that were literally making out on the dance floor.  Maria coined the sumM of the evening.  She turned to me and said, "Geez, this is like an old people fuckfest."  Laughing hysterically, and finally an upbeat song being played, the 5 of us made our way back on to the dance floor to "cut another rug."

                After playing 2 songs, it was now time for the door prizes to be awarded.  As we made our way back to the table, the three of us had a very religious experience.   Where I don't attend church hardly ever, and have never really been in to religion, I turned to god praying that I would not win a door prize.  Being a dumbass swept up at the allure of actually winning something, instead of using a fake name and email address, I retardedly put my own information on the slip of paper to enter to win.  I immediately started praying to god that for once in my life, I don't want to win something.  Normally I never win anything to begin with, however I figured that with my dumb luck they would call my name where I would have to walk up on stage in front of everyone, at which they would know my identity.  Of course the miserable old lady who kicked us out of the first table, won the bottle of wine.  Then 2 other names were called for random prizes.   Kevin, Maria and I then engaged in a group prayer session with the hopes that our names wouldn't be called.  It was down to the 2nd to last prize when all of a sudden the dj started stuttering at the name that was on the paper..  mman..mmanddd.. We were waiting for it, our heart stopped as we were waiting for him to announce Maria's name.  "I can't read this handwriting," the dj said.  Then he went from a name that was similar to Maria's last name to something completely different, to which the three of us let out a huge sigh of relief.

                I'm not a big wine drinker, never really have been a fan, however I felt the need to consume alot of it in order to loosen up.  As we were raising our glasses, dancing and praising Toby Keith's "Red Solo Cup," we were approached by the event host, who yelled at us for drinking on the dance floor.  "These are hard wood floors, come on guys," he said with a disappointed tone.  "I don't see a sign, nor was there an announcement made that drinks are not allowed on the dance floor," I said to him.  "Guys I would just appreciate if you drink at the table, I don't want to ruin this church's floor."  he said.  "Whatever," I said irritated.  Clearly he forgot that we do not know the meaning of hardwood floors because we are not 60 and that is not a priority on our "grown up" list of responsibilities, but who would think one would get yelled at for drinking, wine, of all things in a church.  If Jesus finds it acceptable to drink wine in a church, I'm sure he's ok with it spilling on the hardwood floor. 

                Trying not to let the doushy coordinator get me down, that is when I knew Jesus had my back.  Moments later, a visibly drunk older woman (55+) was getting ready to dance with the drunken grandpa of her dreams, when she missed the step to the dance floor and fell flat on her ass.  The gentleman helped her up, she shook it off and proceeded to do the "Grease Medley" dance. 

                After another 5 songs fast, then 2 slow, we made our way outside to cool off yet again when we saw our new 35 year old friend standing outside smoking a cig.  We weren't talking to him, he was standing alone, swaying due to the Wild Turkey self induced coma that he had put himself in, when it happened.  A 50+ cougar with red hair walked up to him.  They literally talked for about 15 seconds before they started making out.    I'm guessing the conversation went something like this from the cougars perspective, "Hi.  I'm drunk, your young and hot want to make out?" <insert kiss here>.  Stunned at what we had just witnessed, we decided to leave them alone and go back in and sit down.    With slow songs till playing and Kevin feeling sweet, he decided to ask B to slow dance.   Maria and I kept M company as they made their way to the dance floor. 

                Maria and Kevin were playing it super cool that night, not alluding to the fact they were dating, so you can imagine Maria's shock when M turned to her and said, "B can't go home with your friend tonight because she is my driver."  Maria, trying to keep a straight face turns to me to fill me in on what was going on, to which I started laughing uncontrollably. 

                It was at that point my phone started ringing so I excused myself from the table to go outside to hear.  I decided to let it go straight to voicemail when I saw the 35 year old standing outside alone.  We had been watching to see what was going on, and he hadn't came back inside since our last trip outside.  Again, swaying he looks at me and says, "Oh Shit, my shirt is on inside out."  I instantly started interrogating him, because inquiring minds want to know..."Did you go to her car? or yours?  Did you get a BJ or did you get laid my friend?" I asked.  "I don't kiss and tell," he said.  My reply to his pussy answer was, "Well sounds to me like you got more than a BJ if your shirt was on inside out, because the last time I checked a BJ doesn't require removal of a shirt."  He drunkenly grinned at me, and without saying the words directly, he set my mind at ease knowing that he did in fact bang a cougar in a car.

                Running back to the table to share this experience with everyone, you would of thought that we had just entered a bad 70's soap opera entitled "The Young and the Geriatric".  The 35 year old made his way to the side of the dance floor where he instantly turned in to "that guy" that lurks in the corner and just sits and watches a girl he likes dance.  To all of our surprise, within the 10 minutes of all of this going on, she had moved on, to another guy closer to her age, that she was started making out with on the dance floor. 

                It was at this point, that we decided we had seen enough.  I had not won the clock radio I had so hoped to win, and said goodbye to our new friends M and B, and made our way to the door.  We were walking down the steps of the hall, when we were practically chased down by the event coordinator.  Thinking he was going to bring up again the lecture on "Why hardwood floors should be treated with respect," he then proceeds to interrogate us about our experience.  I said very few words, being still angry at yelling at me for the wine incident, so Maria and Kevin proceeded to engage in conversation with him.  Little did I know, not only was he aged like a fine wine, but he was also a Captain.  Captain obvious that is...

                He looks at us and says that we were the youngest people there.  No shit ya think?  And then proceeds to tell us how he doesn't like to promote it to "younger" singles because if he did he would have to pay for security and he wouldn't want things to get out of hand.  Being that I am in marketing, It took every bone in my body not to make a comment along the lines of, "Well from what I saw tonight, I think this would be a great event for Viagra to sponsor."

                As we left, trying to absorb every what the fuck moment the night had brought to us, on the ride home my mind started wandering...

                Really, this event was no different than going to a Jimmy D's or a Bar Room on a Friday night, with the exception that everyone in the room made it know that they were single.  I've been that cougar, walking up to random guys making out with them (of course within a 5 year age limit), that drunk girl that falls on her ass, only to bounce back up and capture some drunk guys attention, but more importantly, being "that girl" that knows looking for love in a bar is about as effective as an expired batch of birth control, every time I do go out, in the back of my mind I have hope for that chance encounter of meeting someone that I could share my life with. 

                With all that, I think the hardest reality to swallow is that where I think dating  is bad now in my generation, if this event was a reflection of my future in 30 years, I will be basically doing everything that I do now, except with a new set of hips and possibly knees.  Where some of those men and women were clearly looking for a one night stand, there were some people that were genuinely hopeful in finding love that night in a church hall.  It takes balls to show up at an event, where you put yourself out there and you're not just a profile but an actual person.  I wish them all the best of luck in whatever they are looking for, yet I think I will put my love life in fate and not the internet's hands...

Keepin' it real

-Shelby