Search This Blog

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Rolling Through the Crematorium

I thought that I’d tell a dating horror story today, about “The Date Not Taken”.

I’m an online dater, that’s where I’ve met everyone.  Honestly, I have no other idea about how to meet someone. 
At work? There are all women in my office, so work is out. 
The grocery store, have you seen the people in there? No thanks.
Church? I don’t go.

My options are limited. 

I’ve tried the free sites and the paid sites.  No one liked me on the paid sites; they were truly a waste of time and money.
I get a lot of email on the free sites. Many of the emails that I get seem like they’ve been copied and pasted, I’ve gotten the EXACT same, word for word, email two times from more than one guy.  I am certain that these guys are not at all creative and are sending their regurgitated message to multiple girls.  Maybe it works? What do I know?

I think that girls, as a rule, just receive a lot of email.  I’ll admit that I have a kick ass profile; even though I know the majority of men don’t get past the photos.  In the beginning, I would reply to everyone that messaged me, saying “Thank You” at least.  It’s the polite thing to do.  I’ve learned, however, that this may not be the best idea.  It may insinuate that you have some interest, when you do not.  So if I get a message that just says “Hi” and I’m not interested, I don’t reply (don’t scold me).  If I get a thought out, well written message, where I can tell that the man did read my profile, I always reply.  I’m not a heathen.

The story I’m about to tell you is the exception to the above rule.

It was fall of the year that I returned to the dating world.  It was all new to me and overwhelming.  I had joined the online dating community, created a basic profile with some (looking back) unflattering photos.

One of the first emails I received was from FHG.  FHG owned a funeral home.  That didn’t bother me.  FHG looked like he owned a funeral home.  That didn’t bother me either.

Here are the things that did bother me:
  • in every email he sent me, he addressed me as “Precious”
it gave me cold chills.
  • He was looking for a submissive in the bedroom.
In my mind I was thinking “How much more submissive can you get than DEAD?”

I can’t let it be said that TrippyBeth isn’t adventurous in the bedroom; I’ll definitely try new things.  But the thoughts of being his submissive gave me visions of myself lying in a coffin, which I didn’t feel good about, or even worse on an embalming table!!

Like this, but with fewer clothes.

Every time I read “Precious” I could hear Buffalo Bill calling for his little dog……… It rubs the lotion on……….

This man sent numerous emails, and I never answered one.

Maybe my imagination was running wild; it does that from time to time.
In retrospect, this could have made a fantastic story for my book.  I even thought of fictionalizing it……

In my story, he would be a serial killer, dubbed “The Fisherman of Death” as he gets all of his victims from Plenty of Fish.  He murders the victims with various and sundry tackle, hooks, fly, line, stringers, etcetera.

But the murders only take place after the victim is tortured in the embalming room by The Fisherman of Death’s creepy little children, who have lazy eyes and are mute.  I can even envision one of the children licking the skin of the unwilling participant.  Not in a sexual way, but a super creepy way.

Once the torture and murder are complete, the bodies would be neatly disposed of in the crematorium.

I still need to think of a clever way to dispose of the ashes…..

So, if you’ve sent me an email on the dating site….. it’s possible that I’ve imagined a scenario involving you, which may or may not be flattering. 

That’s just how I roll.


Vigilarius said...

Wow, what a disturbing experience! I've never had the courage to try a dating website, mostly for my fear of having no one answer my ad. In your case, though, it seems like you have way too many (of the creepy sort) answering yours. ;)

TrippyBeth said...

When i was a nurse, working the night shift in a small town hospital, a fellow nurse would always call me a shit-magnet because awful things would tend to happen on my shift.
this days i think i am more of a weirdo-magnet..
but don't get me wrong, i definitely have a soft spot for some weirdness, just nothing that will end in my premature death...

TrippyBeth said...

ooohhhhh and the awful things were no fault of my own.....