You're Not It And Your Poetry Is Shit

I have to preface this chapter by saying it's not this guy's fault that I got the ick. No actually it is his fault. I mean initially it wasn't but then he came in with some very strange behaviour. He messaged me on plenty of fish, a disgusting dating app where anyone can message you at any time. I thought tinder was going to be the gross one but plenty of fish takes the cake. This guy hit me up and he was cute. He had a face I could sit on so when he said Hi, I said Hi right back. We chatted for a day on the app and then switched numbers. The first message he sent was a selfie and I was a little surprised, although I'm not sure why, to find he looked slightly older, nay rougher, than his profile pictures. He wasn't ugly though so I kept chatting. I figured he had picked his best photos for his dating profile, he wanted to put his best foot forward so to speak. So it was not a surprise to find that he looked a little different on a normal work day.

He was very complimentary. He told me how beautiful he thought I was, said he couldn't wait to meet me and asked if I would have dinner with him. He had been lovely up to this point so I said ‘yes, Sounds great!’ Then things got weird. The following day he hit me with a good morning text, a pink floral picture with fancy swirly letters that he had most likely screen shotted from pinterest. Cute I guess if you were receiving the text from your 5yr old niece but from a 40 something man?? If he had just said “morning beautiful” without the picture I wouldn't have batted an eye but the picture was strange. So as any good scorpio woman would do, I stalked him on the internet. 

He was way too easy to find. His profile came up straight away on facebook and everything was public. I scrolled through his photos, there were pictures of him riding motorbikes and with his kids and one standout profile picture where his mouth looked exactly like my ex’s mouth. So minor, I know, but it gave me the ick. I can't make out with another man whose upper arch is too narrow to correctly fit all his teeth. I just can't do it. And why are your cheeks so much bigger, like why can I see all the way back to your molars when you smile. It's like someone is pointing a leaf blower at your face. It's not his fault I got the ick, but I got the ick anyway. 

Then he sent me the poem. Whilst doing a deep dive into his facebook, he texted and told me had written me a poem and asked ‘Do you want to see it?’ I balked at the thought but said ‘sure, hit me with it’. He said he had been flicking through netflix, thinking about me and was inspired to craft what can only be described as an insult to the beautiful literary genre of poetry. It was 10 lines of poorly constructed sentences that all rhymed with my name. No structure, no rhythm and dripping with dick cheese. It was terrible and I laughed about it with everyone in the room.

I wasn't sure how to respond and I've always been told if you have nothing nice to say then say nothing at all. So I didn't reply. It was a busy day at work and I totally forgot about it if i'm being honest. But then he messaged me again. He said “I was hoping for a response! Did you like the poem?”. Word to the wise, no response is a response. I did consider replying with “your not it, your poetry is shit, suck my dick” but again, if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all. So I didnt. He stopped texting after that. Our 3 day situationship done. Thank goodness. 

The Friday of that week I was in the mood to blow off a little steam and by that I mean I wanted to eat cheese and crackers, drink too much tequila and go dancing. I put on a red dress, told my sister we were going out and necked a few cocktails. I had a great night! Came home with unexplainable bruises, a blow to the face from a mechanical bull and one less pair of prescription glasses. I had been blind that night in more ways than one. Then when I thought the hangover couldn't get any worse, old mate sends me a text. He said “I saw you out on friday night, I'm not the stalker type, I get the picture if you're not replying.” I don't think you do get it mate. If you see me out after I have ghosted you and I don't say hi, I'm not interested. Leave it at that. 

Dudes think women are the needy ones but in my experience it has always been the other way around. Dating apps have proven to me that there are many needy insecure men in this world, and insecurity in a man, insecurity in anyone, is a dangerous thing. I have found that men hang on like no one's business or, and this is the scary part, they become aggressive. This is why women choose the bear. It's not all men, I've met some lovely men, it's just a shame that the insecure ones outweigh the good ones. Moral of the story is don't send her a shitty poem three days in. Let her get attached before you reveal your absolute lack of literary skills. I have to preface this chapter by saying it's not this guy's fault that I got the ick. No actually it is his fault. I mean initially it wasn't but then he came in with some very strange behaviour. He messaged me on plenty of fish, a disgusting dating app where anyone can message you at any time. I thought tinder was going to be the gross one but plenty of fish takes the cake. This guy hit me up and he was cute. He had a face I could sit on so when he said Hi, I said Hi right back. We chatted for a day on the app and then switched numbers. The first message he sent was a selfie and I was a little surprised, although I'm not sure why, to find he looked slightly older, nay rougher, than his profile pictures. He wasn't ugly though so I kept chatting. I figured he had picked his best photos for his dating profile, he wanted to put his best foot forward so to speak. So it was not a surprise to find that he looked a little different on a normal work day.

He was very complimentary. He told me how beautiful he thought I was, said he couldn't wait to meet me and asked if I would have dinner with him. He had been lovely up to this point so I said ‘yes, Sounds great!’ Then things got weird. The following day he hit me with a good morning text, a pink floral picture with fancy swirly letters that he had most likely screen shotted from pinterest. Cute I guess if you were receiving the text from your 5yr old niece but from a 40 something man?? If he had just said “morning beautiful” without the picture I wouldn't have batted an eye but the picture was strange. So as any good scorpio woman would do, I stalked him on the internet. 

He was way too easy to find. His profile came up straight away on facebook and everything was public. I scrolled through his photos, there were pictures of him riding motorbikes and with his kids and one standout profile picture where his mouth looked exactly like my ex’s mouth. So minor, I know, but it gave me the ick. I can't make out with another man whose upper arch is too narrow to correctly fit all his teeth. I just can't do it. And why are your cheeks so much bigger, like why can I see all the way back to your molars when you smile. It's like someone is pointing a leaf blower at your face. It's not his fault I got the ick, but I got the ick anyway. 

Then he sent me the poem. Whilst doing a deep dive into his facebook, he texted and told me had written me a poem and asked ‘Do you want to see it?’ I balked at the thought but said ‘sure, hit me with it’. He said he had been flicking through netflix, thinking about me and was inspired to craft what can only be described as an insult to the beautiful literary genre of poetry. It was 10 lines of poorly constructed sentences that all rhymed with my name. No structure, no rhythm and dripping with dick cheese. It was terrible and I laughed about it with everyone in the room.

I wasn't sure how to respond and I've always been told if you have nothing nice to say then say nothing at all. So I didn't reply. It was a busy day at work and I totally forgot about it if i'm being honest. But then he messaged me again. He said “I was hoping for a response! Did you like the poem?”. Word to the wise, no response is a response. I did consider replying with “your not it, your poetry is shit, suck my dick” but again, if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all. So I didnt. He stopped texting after that. Our 3 day situationship done. Thank goodness. 

The Friday of that week I was in the mood to blow off a little steam and by that I mean I wanted to eat cheese and crackers, drink too much tequila and go dancing. I put on a red dress, told my sister we were going out and necked a few cocktails. I had a great night! Came home with unexplainable bruises, a blow to the face from a mechanical bull and one less pair of prescription glasses. I had been blind that night in more ways than one. Then when I thought the hangover couldn't get any worse, old mate sends me a text. He said “I saw you out on friday night, I'm not the stalker type, I get the picture if you're not replying.” I don't think you do get it mate. If you see me out after I have ghosted you and I don't say hi, I'm not interested. Leave it at that. 

Dudes think women are the needy ones but in my experience it has always been the other way around. Dating apps have proven to me that there are many needy insecure men in this world, and insecurity in a man, insecurity in anyone, is a dangerous thing. I have found that men hang on like no one's business or, and this is the scary part, they become aggressive. This is why women choose the bear. It's not all men, I've met some lovely men, it's just a shame that the insecure ones outweigh the good ones. Moral of the story is don't send her a shitty poem three days in. Let her get attached before you reveal your absolute lack of literary skills.