On gold digging
In my ongoing efforts to locate someone willing to put up with my nonsense on a more permanent basis, I have once again signed up at an online dating site. You will find a fantastic array of people on these sites, from busy professionals with no time to find mates outside of work to trailer park rejects that post pictures themselves posing with a baby in one hand and a bottle of Old English in the other. At least they recognize the importance of this photo op, as they generally don their best tank top for the event.
The group I'd like to focus on generally springs from the lower end of the spectrum with a few previously middle-class stay-at-home moms whos husbands left them sprinkled in for variety. I call them the Wallet Seekers. They're out for a financial support, and if the man/wallet can be a surrogate dad to their offspring then that's a nice bonus. They're easy to spot because they aggressively pursue men even though they don't meet a single dating requirement. Worse, they will omit certain details such as their single-parent status when dating the man. I usually identify them quickly and block their messages. I have no desire to ever have or raise a child. I make this clear in my preferences and profile. I readily admit that I've been fixed: the nards have been culled, the bullets taken out of the gun. These loins will bear no fruit. They just won't take no for an answer.
Sometimes they get through, like rats gnawing through the basement cinderblocks. This weekend I met such a woman.
She found me online, sent me a message, and we agreed to meet for dinner. We had a lovely meal at Coastal Flats. I made the mistake of ordering the shrimp ball appetizer, since they passingly resemble a plate of hairy testicles when served. Tee hee.
We eventually ended up back at her place, where I was greeted with all manner of child's toy and Disney movie spread about the living room. I quite clearly remember mentioning my distaste for mini-humes. When I remarked upon this she told me that I was sweet and would make a wonderful father. She told me that I just hadn't met the right woman until now, and I would fall in love with her children and it would be different.
Arg.
The "it's different when it's your own" argument. My old nemesis.
The group I'd like to focus on generally springs from the lower end of the spectrum with a few previously middle-class stay-at-home moms whos husbands left them sprinkled in for variety. I call them the Wallet Seekers. They're out for a financial support, and if the man/wallet can be a surrogate dad to their offspring then that's a nice bonus. They're easy to spot because they aggressively pursue men even though they don't meet a single dating requirement. Worse, they will omit certain details such as their single-parent status when dating the man. I usually identify them quickly and block their messages. I have no desire to ever have or raise a child. I make this clear in my preferences and profile. I readily admit that I've been fixed: the nards have been culled, the bullets taken out of the gun. These loins will bear no fruit. They just won't take no for an answer.
Sometimes they get through, like rats gnawing through the basement cinderblocks. This weekend I met such a woman.
She found me online, sent me a message, and we agreed to meet for dinner. We had a lovely meal at Coastal Flats. I made the mistake of ordering the shrimp ball appetizer, since they passingly resemble a plate of hairy testicles when served. Tee hee.
We eventually ended up back at her place, where I was greeted with all manner of child's toy and Disney movie spread about the living room. I quite clearly remember mentioning my distaste for mini-humes. When I remarked upon this she told me that I was sweet and would make a wonderful father. She told me that I just hadn't met the right woman until now, and I would fall in love with her children and it would be different.
Arg.
The "it's different when it's your own" argument. My old nemesis.