I’ve talked about my Freak Magnet here before.
For those of you who are just joining us, here’s the short and dirty version: I don’t attract normal people. Not even remotely normal people. It’s never the cute, mysterious guy who offers to buy me a drink. Nope. It’s that guy’s wingman, the one wearing spock ears and drooling on his stained tee shirt that comes up, grabs my hand, and slobbers all over it. You think I’m kidding. I don’t blame you. But if you’re brave, read on and learn the horrifying truth:
I’ve made no secret of the fact that I’m a member of OKCupid. I joined because goosezilla linked their entry quiz on her blog. It was not long after that I became awash in a sea of freakish emails. Here are some excerpts from the most recent.
“I would admit that I have some libertarian leanings. How does being into personal responsibility make me Republican! Last time I checked polyamorus men into ritual magic were not put on a pedistal by the Republican party, except when they are to be stoned.”
‘scuse me? Polyamorus? Ritual magic??! Where in the hell in my profile did it say I wanted to be in the harem of Gandalf the Grey? I don’t even begin to have the social skills to turn this guy down while being nice about it. “Sorry, I don’t date Warlocks”?
He goes on to say:
“Your profile looks cool, and the kinkier and hornier thing is interesting. I am in Seattle ALL the time for stuff at the Wet Spot and would love to chat with you. Maybe I can buy you lunch next time I am in town.
Yeah, it’d be interesting if I didn’t expressly state in my profile I don’t know where in the hell the kinkier and hornier stuff came from. I don’t want to date someone whose idea of a good time involves fisting with spiky gloves whilst wearing a gimp mask. NO.
The Wet Spot is a BDSM sex club in Seattle (for lack of better terminology, I’ve never been there, and have no plans to do so) where apparently people show up in fetish wear, strip down naked, and have sex with random people, while people are flogging other people in the background, and yet more people are sewing vaginas and assholes shut. (Remember, these are just stories I’ve heard….from someone else who invited me to go there. What is it with every freak in seattle wanting to bang me or beat the crap out of me?)
Once again, I’m at a loss as to how to reply to this guy. Lesley has suggested I send single word email in response: “Icky!” While I can’t deny the utter hilarity, I’m also not one who wants to make other people feel bad for their sexual preferences. The only problem I have with them is when they start trying to do it with ME.
On to the second email!
I am a very sweet and caring guy. I live in Federal Way,Wa I am enrolling in a college in Oregon named Le corde bleu it is a culinary institute. I am trying to get in there so I can become a master chef. I enjoy reading and writing. I like art and poetry and I ride horses. I go to parties and love to dance. And I am very good looking and have nice teeth. 🙂 Would you care to get to know me. My name is Robert. I am 21 years old.
I can’t help but be reminded of Hello, My Future Girlfriend.” Please don’t dump me after I like you! The email itself wasn’t so bad, even with the 6th grader vibe..it was the profile that scared the hell out of me. Highly religious, highly republican, and looking for a housewife. Where in the world would he have gotten the idea we were compatible? In the SLIGHTEST?
But lest you think the freak magnet is limited to the internet, allow me to tell one more story..this one, from work.
The day the computers went down also happened to be the day that the new Eddie Van Halen MXR pedal came in. A customer (late 30’s, early 40’s) walked up to me and asked me for a pedal that would make him sound like Van Halen. Easy sale–that one’s in the bag! It’s slow in the store, and my desire to do much of anything isn’t really there anymore, so we chat a little bit about music gear and the music scene in Seattle. He introduces himself, takes his pedal and leaves.
10 minutes later, there’s a call for me, and my deft use of foreshadowing should have led you to the logical conclusion that it’s that guy on the phone. And it is. He invites me out for drinks. I mumble incoherently into the phone. He reiterates. I suggest that maybe he should spend the evening with his brand new gear. He laughs and asks me out again. I tell him I’ll have to call him back. And then proceed to freak out for about 20 minutes. “oh NO! A guy old enough to be my dad asked me out on a date. A guy who doesn’t take no for an answer! What am I gonna DO?” Ok, I admit, he’s not as bad as the “When you’re a pirate robot, can I have sex with you?” guy, but still bad. Still inappropriate!
The clock’s ticking down. I can’t not call him back, that’d be rude. So what do I do? I call him back with, (and I’m as surprised as you are) the truth. “Well…you see, *******, at GC we have something called ‘uncompromising performance standards.’ Which basically means that we go out of our way to be friendly and extra nice with everyone…not to say we aren’t friendly and nice people, but we do tend to keep our work lives and private lives separate from one another. And the problem with uncompromising performance standards is that some people have a tendency to think you’re hitting on them, when you’re really not. I’d be sad to lose you as a customer, but I really just can’t do this.”
Aaaaaand bullet dodged.
That’s it for this installment of Mellzah’s Freak Magnet. Be sure to tune in next time!