The Trial: Hickeyman and I started talking on pof and it seemed as though we had quite a bit in common. He was living off of internet start-ups he had made successful with his knowledge of Internet Marketing, which by coincidence was exactly what I was beginning to research for this very website.
He was straightforward with asking me out wording it specifically “to see if we get along in real life”. Sometimes I like it when men don’t dance around the fact that it is a blind date and we might as well just get it over with and see if there is any point in continuing communication.
The Error: Hickeyman started off well. He wasn’t awkward, which made him seem superficially superior than he actually was. I love how people become better or less attractive in plain sight to me dependent on how much I like their personality, mannerisms, sense of humor, ability to carry on regular conversations, confidence.
He was confident and wasn’t afraid of me, a quality less common than it should be for an easygoing gal like me. After about five glasses of wine each, he picks up the bill (an old-fashioned chivalrous move that I greatly approve of to show that the date is going well) and we proceed to another bar.
At both locations, in two separate conversations, it comes up that he often goes on pof dates and that most girls sleep with him on the first date. Given my disapproval of this behaviour for my own dealings, it is not exactly a turn on. Contrary to popular belief, some women actually do care if a guy is a manwhore. I mean, do what you want to do, but maybe avoid talking about it on your first date, maybe even avoid talking about it altogether if nobody asks you.
I find admittedly promiscuous men arrogant and showy, not to mention it makes me think twice about how clear their judgement is, and above all else, it makes me very cautious about getting near them with the assumption that they do not get tested for STDs every single day/week/month of their life, which is a dealbreaker for me.
So as I call for a driver to come get me, he kisses me outside the bar. Being the bold person that I am, I tell him, “I know I shouldn’t scold you for telling the truth, but I won’t date a guy who sleeps with girls on the first date.” Hickeyman laughs and keeps kissing me. I pull away since my driver is about to cruise up to us any second and explain to him, “You seem really nice, but I would never sleep with a guy right away. There are tests and obstacles and hoops to jump through before I get there”. Hickeyman keeps laughing and replies “I don’t mind tests, you can give me tests to do!” I don’t think he knew which kind of tests I was talking about. Specifically one type of test that no guy wants to hear about but that I insist upon. That is usually why I don’t talk about the STD testing until I get to know someone and have decided I even like them enough to think about letting it go that far. I am such a tease, I know. I can’t help it, and I won’t apologize for it!
So I went on my way, and I didn’t think I was going to go out with him again. But alas, some other backburners fell off the back of the stove and about a week later I found myself wanting to go out for some drinks with a male counterpart once again, so I made plans with him.
The second date was the same idea, but I noticed something that had passed me by on the first date about his profession and professionalism in a dating atmosphere. Every time I brought up Internet Marketing, my ideas about my website, questions about it here and there, or anything related to it, Hickeyman would make a joke about how I should be paying him for consulting advice.
When he said it on the first date, I didn’t notice because it was a joke. But a second time making the same joke on a second date? How incredibly unappealing, to make me self-conscious about discussing my newest business endeavor. How stupefyingly unslick to mention that you normally take payment for the conversation you are having, while on not even a first, but a second date.
This guy wasn’t interested in my new aspiring profession, hence not interested in my actual wellbeing. What does this sound like to me? He was just trying to get into my pants. Was I surprised? No. But was I confused as his lack of suaveness in covering it up by talking about money he should be earning while talking to me? Yes.
The date ended the same way, him going for it while I waited for my driver to arrive and although I found his fact-dropping of his wealth of valuable information very irritating, it wasn’t enough to make me denounce him. I kind of liked him anyway…maybe because a guy hadn’t kissed me in six months. Yes, that’s probably why.
So later in the week we make plans to drink Baby Duck sparkling wine and my family’s homemade wine at his place. Although I was not ready to hang out at his apartment, because I know what men think is going to happen if they can get you behind closed doors, I felt I was being immature and I should go to his place. He had picked up so many bills for all the wine we drank, I felt it was only fair for me to get him back by bringing wine over to him and not making the assumption that he thought he could dirtbag his way into my panties.
Well my dear readers, I was kind of wrong. He didn’t dirtbag his way anywhere, to be clear, but numerous attempts were made at aiming the night into the direction he probably normally takes it with his other dates.
Upon entering his apartment, it is reeeeeeeally nothing special for how pleased he acts like he is about his financial situation with his internet start ups. Too many lights were on for me to see any proverbial red flags and his aprtement was hot. Now, maybe the hot apartment is an effort to get women to take their clothes off? I am not sure but I brought it up a couple of times before he turned on the air conditioner.
The lighting, guys, if you don’t want to be obvious about your intentions, don’t leave them all on but don’t leave them all off. For a smooth transition from having cocktails to having sex, have numerous lamps around your living room on so you can be subtle about controlling the lighting and you can also easily turn them off as the night goes on. Not that that was a possibility that I would have even humored on this particular night with this particular guy.
In the first hour that I’m there, my work comes up again (what girl doesn’t like talking about herself? Especially self-employed ones…watch out.) and non-specific queries and comments about my site, to which again Hickeyman makes reference to the fact that he normally charges people to talk to him about such things. Reminded of this turn off, but unwilling to let it be the reason for dismissal, I get up from the couch to do something.
When I come back he is sitting in my spot on the couch. So I say to him “Ohhh, so is this your spot on the couch?” innocently referring to habits people have of sitting in the same place in their own home. Hickeyman responds “Yeah it is,” and points to the spot he was previously in and says “THAT is where the girl sits.” The girl? Like, any girl?
I immediately turn on my heel and sit on the other couch across from him and say “Well I am no ordinary girl so I will not be sitting anywhere near you then” He laughs and concedes, and says “Ok, Ok you’re no ordinary girl, you can sit in this spot.” At that moment, I didn’t see any way he was getting even a make out from me, so after a bit I ask to see his music collection on his computer to take the expectation away that he is getting anywhere with his utterances of referral to other women he has had there.
So I check out his music and as an hour and more drinks than that go by, he starts to make his moves on me while I am sitting at the computer. Not the smoothest move, but for where I had thought the night was headed an hour before, he was doing pretty well for himself. Hickeyman starts kissing my neck and going for the straps of my dress, to which I laugh in his face while sitting in his computer chair like an island, with him as a hurricane hovering around it and displacing things on me while he moved.
I point out to him that I have a blemish on my neck which I call Frankenstein, which looks like a hickey, but is not. He jokes that he will put a real hickey beside it.
Before I call for my driver to come, Hickeyman and I make out for a while at the door, where he keeps working on my neck and keeps making jokes, or what I thought were jokes about giving me hickies. At one point he even said “Sorry about that” and maybe it was the wine, and maybe it was just the average belief that hickeys are not done when you are over the age of 15, but I didn’t take him seriously.
The following day, while recalling his comments concerning his conquests, also his comments concerning his lack of interest in openly discussing his profession and his accomplishments similar to my current aspirations, and simultaneously pinning my hair up, I notice several blemishes on both sides of my neck. “MOTHERFUCKER!”
Annoyed, I begrudgingly leave my hair down. I decide once and for all, Hickeyman shall be dubbed forevermore, “Hickeyman” and he will not have the pleasure of my company again. A grown man should know better, and since I can assume he does know better, that indicates to me he is trying to mark his territory. This is both a chauvinistic and selfish act, and a perfectly feasible reason for immediate dismissal.
Unfortunately I left a really funny notebook at his place with a dog on it dressed as Michael Jackson, but some things are not worth going back for. Having a conversation about why hickeys are unacceptable wasn’t something I cared to share with this moronic self-absorbed showman.
Now my dear readers, you may think I overreacted. But if one continuously uses the 3 strikes rule for any new person you are dating, one can be assured in not spending more time with an asshole than needed. Giving a fair chance is one thing, but acting like a horny 13 year old is a whole other.
Hickeyman texted me several times after that night, the first time which was immediately after I noticed the hickeys and called him on it. I never responded to any of his arrogant asshole texts again: “Version 1 of my dating website is online, I’ll show you mine if you show me yours” “So was leaving your book at my place your trick to get yourself invited over again?” Dick.
- Don’t talk about girls you’ve slept with. I am not sure why this needs to be explained, but it does. Maybe some girls get jealous and it makes them want you more, but I don’t know what kind of girls those are. Probably not good ones, is my guess. There is absolutely no need to talk about past conquests unless it is in some fun manner that you are both interested in discussing. That is the sort of topic you might end up conversing in later on when you are several dates down the road, but in my opinion it is not something that ever needs to be talked about unless it is for a funny story or an equally stimulating conversation. The first time Hickeyman talked about it, it was regarding pof dates and I made a statement about how most pof dates are more innocent and don’t make a move right away, to which he differed in opinion. If this happens to you guys, just don’t say anything. Nod and smile. Don’t say what you know, girls won’t be impressed. Girls don’t want to feel unspecial, so don’t talk about other chicks you’ve banged.
- You could be a doctor, a philosopher, a lawyer, an internet marketing consultant, a manager at McDonalds, whatever, if a woman asks you on the first date your opinion on the ingredients of Big Macs because she is really interested in making her own Big Macs, don’t be a dick. Even if it is the least interesting subject in the universe to you, just tell her what the answer is if you know it and shimmy the conversation to her work in the Big Mac duplicating industry. Talking about money and how normally people pay you to talk about Big Macs is insanely unclassy to a regular old acquaintance, but this is a woman you are wanting to SLEEP with. Dazzle her with your knowledge of processed cheese, and pre-cut pickles. She will be attracted to your confidence and your know-how, instead of being turned off by your unfunny arrogance.
- This one is a given: don’t give women hickeys. A hickey was a funny thing to give someone when you wanted people to know you were together in junior high. A hickey is a funny thing to give your longtime boyfriend while he is asleep to socially torture him. It is marking your territory and it should only be done in a fun and games method with somebody who won’t mind too terribly that you marked them. For a woman like me who works with the public every day, Hickeyman doing that to me seemed like a powerplay, and aside from the other two reasons I am never seeing him again, this was the cherry on top. The other two things I was brushing aside, trying not to be such a prude so I could maybe eventually get myself some action. The hickey was an indirectly sexist action against me that results in me having nothing to do with that guy ever again.
Anonymous and hassle-free, Juliette gives her honest opinion regarding online dating, and modern relationships. All questions submitted will be answered no matter how idiotic, or sexist, or crass, or naive, or bewildering. So don’t be scared…no one will know it’s you she’s mouthing off to if you ask a question you can’t ask anybody else. Juliette wants to scream her advice over the rooftops for the good of all mankind, so bring forth your questions dear readers! Be sure to SUBSCRIBE to Juliette’s blog to ensure you get your answer.