The Dating Game – Redux – El Fin

I’ve had so much fun on this dating site.  It just renews my faith that there are still so many scumbags out there…just ripe for the picking.

Man:  “I saw your profile and I have to say that you are one good-looking woman.  I would like to know more about you.  I am separated and not living with my wife, so technically, I am free.”  (Not bad looking and is tall.)
Me:  “If you are separated, you are still ‘technically’ married, and I am not interested in dating married men.  Thank you for the message.”
Man:  “I would beg you to reconsider.  The only reason I am still married is so that she can remain on my health insurance.  I think we have a lot in common.”
Me:  “Who has a lot in common…you and I, or you and your wife?  I’m sorry, but I will not be involved with a married man, and I think I’ve heard that insurance excuse before.”
Man: “My daughter is fully supportive and approves of my desire to find a special someone.  If you could just talk to her, she can validate my circumstances.”
Me:  “I’m impressed with your smooth verbal skills, and I guess what you are saying is that your daughter is essentially okay with your intent to cheat on her mother.  I would like to talk to her, not about you, but about how she could possibly be comfortable with what you intend to do.”
Man:  “It wouldn’t be cheating.  As I said, my wife and I don’t live together. Please, give me a chance.”
Me:  “I know of men who refuse to discuss divorce with their wives, while seeking another woman’s company to ease their loneliness.  I don’t know how you could respect a woman who would intentionally begin a relationship with a married man.”
Man:  “I believe that being separated is entirely different from being married.  If we could just talk, I think I can make you understand.”
Me:  “Thank you for the messages, and I do understand.  I understand that you are married, and my answer is no.”

Man:  “Hi.  I saw your profile and was impressed.  A woman who says what she thinks.  Check out my profile and I think you will find that we have several common interests.”
(Has pretty decent looks, but a tad bit younger than I am.)
Me:  “I’m not sure about the age difference, but thank you for the message.”
Man:  “Age is just a number and you sure don’t look your age.  Would you like to ask me anything?  You can ask anything and I will answer.”
(Going back to his profile, I see that his “requirements” are women from the age of 50-90.)
Me:  “Okay.  What could possibly interest you in an 80 or 90-year-old woman?  Could it be…um…MONEY?  See ya.”

Man:  “Would you like to ride me?”
Me:  “I know that most men think they’re studs, but no.  I would not like to ride you.  I wouldn’t mind shooting you, though.  On second thought, have you ever heard the term ‘grab and twist’?  It’s a defense mechanism I learned a while back.  If a man is trying to overpower you, grab a handful and twist.  Coupled with my long fingernails, that would certainly leave quite an impression.  I would be happy to show you, even if you’re placid…or flaccid…because you are a real scumbag.”

Man:  “Hey.  Hit me up.”
Me:  “How old are you…twelve?”
Man:  “No.  I’m eighteen.”
Me:  “ALRIGHT!  The man I’ve been looking for!  I’ve always said that I want to die in bed when I’m 99, and I want my boyfriend to be so upset, he has to drop out of high school!”

 

The End.

 

The Little Pearl – Chapter Four

Leona and Norman anxiously awaited Pearl’s appearance for the brief questionnaire.  As she walked onto the stage, she showed no hint of nervousness, but the grip Leona had on Norman’s hand betrayed hers.

The judge asked for Pearl’s name, which she proudly announced.

“Well,” the judge said.  “Tell me, Pearl.  What is something you find to be curious?”  As fast as a speeding bullet, Pearl answered…”CATS.”  The judge let out a hearty belly laugh, and the others joined.  “That,” he said, “was a very clever answer.”

The evening gown competition was next, and Pearl gleamed as she did her required strut across the stage, with no detectable falter.  Leona and Norman couldn’t have been more proud.

The talent competition was next.  Leona and Norman had no idea what Pearl was going to do.  They quietly hoped that she hadn’t decided to sing or dance, although they would have never discouraged her.

All were surprised when Pearl walked out on the stage, and began to speak.

“I wasn’t blessed with natural talent.
I wasn’t blessed with great beauty.  
I wasn’t blessed with vast knowledge, but I was blessed with a good heart.  A heart that sings with joy when I am happy.
A heart that openly bleeds when I am sad.
Like everyone, I have hopes and dreams, and fears and worries.
I know how it feels to be different, and I know how it feels to be special.
I know how it feels to love, and I know how it feels to be loved.  I know these things because that’s what my parents taught me.
Words may not be considered a talent, but these words are for my parents, who always made me believe that I could do, and be anything.”

After she thanked the judges, there wasn’t a dry eye in the building.

I believe that everyone deserves a standing ovation at least once in their lives, and that night, Pearl got hers.

She made the first cut, but she didn’t win.  What she did do, was make history and she did indeed become famous.

She was the first ever Miss Alabama contestant, with Down Syndrome.

 

Amaiera.

 

The Little Pearl – Chapter Three

To say the least, Leona and Norman were surprised by Pearl’s announcement.  They had no idea what the venture would involve, but never once having discouraged her, they asked if she was prepared for all the work it would take to become a contestant, and more importantly, if she knew the rules.

“Oh yes,” she said.  “You have to be between the ages of 17 to 25, which I am.  You have to be an American citizen, which I am.  You have to meet residency requirements, which I do.  You have to meet the character criteria, which I’m sure I do.  You have to be in good health, which I am, and you have to meet the time commitment, and job responsibilities, which I know I can.”

Pearl was just beaming as she talked.  The one thing she did not lack was intestinal fortitude, and pure drive.  Leona and Norman had raised her to believe that there was nothing she couldn’t do, if she worked hard.

Leona asked Pearl if she knew that she must first win Miss Alabama, before she could compete in the Miss America pageant.  “I do?” Pearl asked.  “I believe so,” Leona said.

Pearl didn’t miss a beat.  “Well, then I will enter the Miss Alabama pageant, and I will win.”  Leona smiled and said, “you do understand that making an effort is often just as rewarding as actually winning.  If you do your best, you may not get the prize, but you’re still a winner.  I want you to remember that.”

Pearl smiled and said, “I’ll remember.”

Leona knew that she would have to enroll Pearl in a finishing school.  She would have to learn how to walk and turn properly, she would have to list a talent, and she would have to be fitted with a gown.

Leona gingerly asked Pearl if she had a particular talent in mind.  Pearl thought about it for a minute, and then said, “yes.”

“Might I know what?” asked Leona.  Pearl smiled as she said, “It will be a talent that no one else has.”  Leona wasn’t sure exactly what she meant but, as always, encouraged her by saying, “Whatever you do, my precious Pearl, I’m sure it will be wonderful.”

Pearl started dancing around as she said, “I told you.  One day, I’m going to be famous.”

The first week of finishing school proved to be a little daunting for Pearl. After hours of walking in high-heeled shoes that she had never before worn, her calves and feet were aching.  A few tumbles left her a bit more embarrassed than injured, but she was a good soldier.

The olden days of walking with a book on the top of your head, had given way to the more modern “shoulders back with a straight spine,” which allows you to carry out the perfect “strut,” a slightly serpentine path that makes your hips twist.

She was given instructions to never interject “ums” into her sentences, and to be prepared to answer surprise, sometimes ridiculous questions, designed to catch the contestants off guard.

Leona arranged to have the finest dressmaker in town, design a dress just for Pearl.  It came dear, but to Leona, seeing the finished garment on Pearl was worth the expense.

The entrance fee was paid and pageant day arrived.  With hugs, kisses and best of luck wishes, Leona and Norman watched as Pearl went into a room to get dressed.

 

To be continued______________

 

The Little Pearl – Chapter Two

“What do you mean?” Leona asked.  Pearl said, “I’m not beautiful like they are.  I look different.”

Leona said, “Oh, my precious little Pearl.  You are beautiful, and never let anyone tell you, or make you feel like you’re not.  We all look different. Imagine how dull the world would be if everyone looked the same.  We all have our own special kind of beauty.  You must embrace yours with vivaciousness, but you must never have a haughty spirit.”

Pearl said, “well, no one has ever said that I’m not beautiful but, I just don’t look like them.  I’m always the last one picked when we have intramural sports, and once we had to dance with the boys, and no one picked me.”

Leona said, “Sit down and let me tell you something.  When I was in school, I was what most people would call…very plain.  The captain of the football team never asked me to go to the prom, and the basketball star never asked me out on a date.  They asked the beautiful girls.  I wasn’t one of the beautiful girls.  But mind you, some people can be beautiful on the outside, and very ugly on the inside.  You, my precious little Pearl, are beautiful on both sides.”

She smiled as she said, “I might have been plain, but look at my life.  I’m married to the most wonderful man in the world, and I have been given the greatest gift God can bestow…you, my precious little Pearl.”

Leona cupped Pearl’s face in her hands and said, “Feel better?”  Pearl smiled and said, “yes.”  Leona said, “You have always told me that you are going to be famous.  What have I always told you?”

Pearl cupped Leona’s face in her hands, and said, “Reach for the stars and they will be mine.  A pearl is one of the most valuable gems in the world.”

Leona looked at her and said, “And what else?”  Pearl said, “Oh.  You said that I can do anything I want to do, and I can be anything I want to be, and the world is my oyster, and I am its’ Pearl.”

Leona said, “You’ve always dreamed big, and you must never lose sight of your dreams”

A few months later, it was time for graduation.  Amid the hustle and bustle of preparing for commencement and gown fittings, Pearl was ready to meet the world head-on.

Sporting her royal blue attire, she walked across the stage and received her diploma.  She quickly flipped her tassel to the left side of her cap, and boldly took the microphone from the valedictorian.  “One day, I’m going to be famous,” she said.

Leona and Norman were a bit surprised by her daring move, but they beamed with pride as they watched.

Later that day, Pearl strolled into the living room, and cavalierly announced, “I’m going to enter the Miss America Pageant, and I’m going to win.”

 

To be continued_________________

The Little Pearl – Chapter One

Flossie Pearl Davis was born on a chilly St. Patrick’s Day, in 1960.  From that day forward, she would be known as “The Little Pearl.”

She was a late in life child for Leona and Norman Davis.  They had prayed for a child since they married in 1938, and she immediately became the light of their lives.

Her name was a throwback to the past, but everyone knew that she was far ahead of her time.  She was by no means as polished as her name would suggest, nor would she likely ever be, but what she lacked in shine was replaced with an abundance of pluck.

From the time she first learned to walk, The Little Pearl was a performer.  A pillowcase pinned to the shoulders of her shirt, served as a cape worn by a common superhero, or a queen’s crimson velvet mantle.  While pretending to be royalty, a paper cigar band imitated a ring, which she would command her subjects to kiss.

Each performance garnered praise from Leona and Norman, who never failed to tell Little Pearl how very special she was.  When they asked what she was going to be when she grew up, she would smile and say, “One day, I’m going to be famous.”  When they asked what she was going to be famous for, she said, “I don’t know.  I just know that one day, I’m going to be famous.”

In school, Little Pearl impressed the teachers with her steadfast desire to be noticed.  If plays or talent shows were on the horizon, she was the first to volunteer her skill-sets.

She didn’t know how to dance, but that didn’t stop her from getting on stage, and tripping the light fantastic with every ounce of talent she didn’t have.

Caterwauling might best describe her singing, and even though it fostered a few snickers from other children, the audience gave her thundering applause.

When Pearl told her parents that she wanted to learn to play the piano, they sent her to the uptown studio for lessons.   She had it in mind to perform a recital at the next talent show, even though it was less than a month away.

The night of the show, she walked up to the stage, bowed, and then and sat down in front of the grand piano.  The number of missed notes far outweighed the correct ones, and despite completely massacring a song, her efforts were praised.

Norman and Leona beamed with pride as they watched.  They were never going to see defeat in her eyes, and she was never going to see disappointment in theirs.

In high school, the teacher gave the class an assignment.  “You will perform your favorite part of a famous play.  It doesn’t matter which play you choose, as long as it’s famous.”  That word resonated with Pearl. More than once, the teacher had heard her say, “One day, I’m going to be famous.”

Little Pearl knew right away which play she was going to perform, and couldn’t wait for her turn to stand in front of the class to give her rendition of Shakespeare’s Macbeth.

No one had ever butchered Shakespeare quite like Little Pearl.  Her soliloquy of “tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow,” got off to a good start with those first five words, but what followed left the teacher wondering if she had read the right play.  Still, her enthusiasm and audacious performance captured the teacher’ heart.  “Not everyone can memorize that well,” she thought.

A year later, Pearl came home and Leona notice that she seemed to have lost a bit of her spark.  “What’s wrong, child?” she asked.

Pearl looked at her and said, “I don’t look like the other girls.”

 

To be continued_____________

 

 

 

The Dating Game – Redux – Part Two

And so it continues.

Man:  “Hi.”  (No picture.)
Me:  No response.
Man:  “Hi.”
Me:  No response.
Man:  “Hi.  I will like to know you.”
Me:  “I don’t have conversations with men who don’t display a picture.”
Man:  “I will happy to send to you multiples sexy picture.  I can have you cell phone number please.”
Me:  “First. Learn how to use proper grammar.  Second.  Are we talking pornography?  If so, send those puppies on over!  Do you mind if I post them on Social Media or Craigslist so we can all point and laugh?”

Man:  “I read your profile and you sound like the perfect woman for me.  I think we share many interests.”
Me:  “I think being in New Jersey, you might be a bit too far away, but thank you for the message.”
Man:  “I would move for you.  Just say the word.”
Me:  “Okay.  Move…on.”

Man:  “Hello gorgeous.”
Me:  “Yeah, I’m all kinds of gorgeous.  What’s on your mind?”
Man:  “I love to cuddle, hug, kiss, and wake up next to a beautiful woman.”
Me:  “That’s great.  I’m only interested in friendship.”
Man:  “We can do friendship, and see where it goes.  A woman like you doesn’t need to be alone.  A woman like you needs a strong, caring, loving man to hold her and make her feel safe.”
Me:  “Silly boy.  The only thing I need to make me feel safe is named Smith & Wesson, and it’s loaded with hollow point bullets.  Now tell me.  How safe do you feel?”

Man:  “I like your profile.  You sound like a woman who knows what she wants.”
Me:  “Thank you for the message, but your profile says that you are looking for a long-term relationship.  I am only interested in friendship.”
Man:  “Does that include benefits?”
Me:  “No.”
Man:  “Are you sure?”
Me:  “Yes.”
Man:  “You don’t know what you’re missing.”
Me:  “For crying out loud!  I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again.  Men who brag about their sexual prowess are more than likely trying to compensate for their ‘shortcomings’.  Give me a fucking break.”

Man:  “I’m going to be in town tonight.  Want to get together for a drink? I could be a serial killer for all you know, but I’m really a nice guy.”
Me:  “Umm…hmm…what an interesting way to introduce yourself.  Let me think about this for a minute.  Okay.  I’ve thought about it. Drinking with a possible serial killer.  Sounds good to me, but there’s one condition.  First, I have to tell you about all the men I’ve already had a drink with.  Most of their body parts are buried in my back yard. Think we’d get along?”

Man:  “I think your beautiful.  Check out my profile and see what you think.” (Picture shows him from neck down.)
Me:  “I think you need to learn about contractions, and honestly, I prefer men who have…a head…with some eyes…a nose…and maybe a mouth.”
Man:  “I can send some more pictures.  Oh, and my age is wrong, but I can’t go back and fix it.  Send me your cell phone number.”
Me:  “I don’t give out my phone number, and how old are  you?”
Man:  “Okay.  How about your email address?”
Me:  “I don’t give out my email address either.”
Man:  “I don’t feel like we can talk freely on here, and theirs a lot I want to say to you.”
Me:  “Allow me to speak freely.  How old are you?”
Man:  “I’m seventy-eight years young and fully functional.  I could service you real good.”
Me:  “I suggest that you introduce your fully functional whatever to your favorite hand and service yourself…’real good’.”

And so it goes.

  

 

 

Fun With Lupita And Juan

For the past several weeks, I have been bombarded with calls from (que dunt dunt dunt tones when something sinister is afoot ) the IRS.

OKAY, LET’S PLAY.

Caller:  “You will be taken under custody by the local cops and put into handcuffs.  There are four serious allegations pressed on your name at this moment.  We would request you to get back to us so that we can discuss about this case, before taking legal action against you.  The number to reach is 206-317-1670,  I repeat, the number to reach is 206-317-1670.  Thank you.”

Me:  Dialing number.

Caller:  “Internal Revenue Service, this is Lupita.  How can I help you?”

Me:  You just called and left a message.

Lupita:  When did we call?”

Me:  Just a few seconds ago.

Lupita:  “Yes.  ********, there are several warrants out for your arrest for not paying your income taxes.”  (Knew my real name.)

Me:  You’re with the Internal Revenue Service?

Lupita:  “Yes, I am.”

Me:  Really?  That’s funny, because I work for the IRS, and this is not one of our numbers.

Lupita:  Click.

Me:  Dialing number again.

Caller:  “Internal Revenue Service, this is Lupita.  How can I help you?”

Me:  Hi, Lupita.  It’s me again. 

Lupita:  Click.

Me:  Dialing number again.

Caller:  “Internal Revenue Service, this is Lupita.  How can I help you?”

Me:  Now, Lupita.  How are you going to scam people if you keep hanging up on them?

Lupita:  “WILL YOU PLEASE STOP CALLING ME?”

Me:  But I want to chat.

Lupita:  Click.

Me:  Dialing number again.

Caller:  “Internal Revenue Service.  This is Juan.  How are you today *******?” (Knew my real name, too.)

Me:  Hi Juan.  What happened to Lupita?

Juan: “Tell me, ********.  When was the last time you had sex?”

Me:  Well, I’ll tell you if you’ll tell me.  When was the last time YOU had sex?

Juan:  “Oh, unfortunately, it’s been quite a while.”

Me:  Oh,  I’m sorry.  Tiny little dick?

Juan:  Click

 

How rude!  Hanging up on me like that!  And they stopped answering the phone!  Go figure.