I have been seriously dating in the District a little over a year. When I say seriously dating I mean seriously putting myself out there, not relationship bullshit like, "sorry you buxom blond bimbo with DSLs from heaven, I have a girlfriend."
If there is one thing I have learned over the past year or so (give or take a couple months because I have been dealing with other shit thank you very much) it's that dating in this city, for lack of a better word, sucks.
It fucking sucks. Seriously. Dating in this city can suck a fart out of my ass, after eating Mexican. That is how jaded I am as I write this.
What I can't fathom for the fucking life of me is that with all the educated people in this area, it is chock full of fucking self-absorbed idiots. Oddly enough, I can picture women reading who happen to live in my area nodding their head in agreement. It does cut both ways, and I am sure that I have been thought of in the aforementioned group of morons at one time or another (I'm not awesome enough to be self-absorbed, unless you count the fact I blog about shit), but for fuck's sake, make it stop.
One thing I have respect for is at least being honest with someone when you don't want to see them anymore. But that bullshit where you just stop talking to them or communicating in any form in hopes they will take a hint is pathetic.
And ladies, for the love of all that is good and holy, please deal with whatever issues you may have before going out with me. I am not your former boyfriend who fucked you over, so don't run away from me and use him as an excuse. And for the LOVE OF GOD, do not get sloppy drunk on a date and flash the cab driver and then sit on the curb and pull your panties aside for everyone to see. You think it's seductive, I think it's indecent exposure.
And fellas, don't be a fucking douche, because honestly, I do not want to hear about how big of an asshole you were when I am on a date with a woman who thought you would be better off shoveling shit at a carnival.
And when you are having a date with someone, at least have the common fucking courtesy to look them in the eye when you talk, even if you are doing nothing but thinking about your exit strategy. If I can fake it until I make it out of there, so can you.
Yet, somehow, and I have no fucking clue how this is even still possible at this point, I remain optimistic. There has got to be ONE, at least ONE, normal, fun loving, intelligent, compassionate, caring, sweet, kind, lively, seductive, secure, confident, inquisitive, curious, attractive woman in the greater metropolitan area who likes to eat red meat, seafood, drink beer, and who would like to get to know me, date me, and at some point have intense, passionate, sweaty, mind-altering sex, with ME.
Eh, maybe I just need to be put down and put out of my misery. I think a nice shotgun blast to the back of the head ought to do it, or maybe even having my intestines pulled out of my ass until I bleed to death. Lord knows it would probably be less painful than me beating my head against a brick wall like I have done for what seems like a fucking eternity at this point.
So, who want's to go out?