It’s “What has Velvet learned about dating” week over here and we’ve got our next installment. You might want to grab a snack because we’re going to be here for a few minutes and you’re going to participate in the class discussion. Ready?
This is exponentially more important in D.C. because people are in love with their jobs here for some stupid reason.
A man’s profession is very very important in decoding how he will treat you. Let’s take a look at some various professions and what you can determine from each.
Likes to argue. Will never let you win an argument. Will resort to confusing justifications to trick you into believing he is right. Compromise is not a word he knows well because any sort of compromise means that he lost. Losing is not in his nature.
Look, this ain’t no Willy Loman type of salesman to which I’m referring. His title will be something important sounding like “Pharmaceutical Consultant,” “East Coast Account Executive” or “Surgery Specialist.” Sounds important but really isn’t. Basically if his title can be dumbed down to being in his car all day gathering road rage while he “calls on” clients, and his clients are doctors to whom he brings lunches and other goodies, then he’s a salesman. And a salesman, ladies, will tell you anything you want to hear just to get what he wants. For him, it’s all about making the sale. And goodwill won’t last long with him – it’s always going to be “Yeah, well what have you done for me lately?”
La Zipcode had an email from a man on match who “owned his own business.” Listen up: This is not necessarily a claim to fame. Do not pursue this man because you think he has endless supplies of money and vacation time to take you to Paris. The man who owns his own business (and works alone) most likely does so because he hates working with, for and beside others. He cannot get along well with people, and thinks he is smarter than everyone else. Thinking you are smarter than everyone else is much different from thinking other people are stupid. Other people are stupid, I agree that that’s true. But most of us are not so arrogant that we actually believe we’re the supreme of the smarts. There is a giant exception to this rule. If he has employees, and he treats them well (i.e., does not refer to them as a “stupid son of a bitch” daily) then you’re okay. Starting your own business isn’t necessarily a sign of antisocial behaviors if you employ and play nice with others. But if he has no employees? Get out of there faster than Britney turned white trash.
Good lord do I even need to go here? Cops are arrogant assholes on major power trips. Bossy and self-important, you’ll never have any fun in this relationship because it will always be about his job job job. His job will always take precedence over yours because sitting in the cruiser eating a powdered, strawberry filled while watching the Picadilly Cafeteria across the street for any suspicious activity from the Blue Hairs is way more demanding than anything you could possibly spend your day doing. The only upside here is that he has handcuffs, but it’s not enough of an upside when you can buy pretty much anything you might want, here.
- Military, ex-Military
Run. Run as fast as you can. These dudes are fucking scary. They like order, routine, and think nothing of waking up at 4 a.m. and expecting you to as well. Something happens to our boys when they enter the military – they get that training to hunt and kill and it makes something in their head snap. Laid-back military refugees are hard to find. Most of them are wound tighter than the rubber bands around Star Jones’ stomach.
What professions did I miss?
Why don’t you take a bathroom break and when we come back I’ll finish it up.
Men describe themselves as better looking than they usually are. Women describe themselves as worse looking than they usually are. To us, “a few extra pounds” means just that: five extra pounds. If we were 10 extra pounds, we would, in the spirit of honesty, describe ourselves as curvy. Men? Yeah. Anywhere from 5’2 98 lbs to 6’5 550 lbs they think is “average.”
The premise of online dating is that you answer a bunch of questions for both yourself as well as your potential mate, spin the wheel and start bidding. These websites seem to be set up for failure. If I took the people in my life who were great boyfriends, fun to be around and passed my sniff test, most of them would not fit into the little prescribed box of qualities I would select.
My first boyfriend was a smoker. I would “never” date a smoker. But I did. For six years. Mr. X has been married before. While this doesn’t necessarily rule someone out for me, there’s clearly baggage there that I’d rather not deal with. But in both cases, it just worked out to become a wonderful relationship. If I used an online questionnaire to weed people out, I would have never met the loves of my life. So you have to think outside the box, and you have to test and jump out of your comfort zone.
Since these sites continue to include generic profile questions, I would like to make a suggestion to them. The world would be much happier if they included a section on teeth with a picture of his chompers required. I would like for this section to include information about the color of teeth, as well as how straight they are. There are a lot of bad teeth online. Just sayin!
In fact, all online dating questionnaires should be destroyed. In their place, I’d like to suggest the following:
1) Please submit a letter of recommendation from your dentist with full dental impressions.
2) Who is your last ex-girlfriend and what is her phone number so she can be called in as a reference? Yes, I think you’re lying when you say she was crazy.
3) What is your propensity to be psycho, scale of 1-10; 10 being the most psycho? (Add 4 to his answer.)
4) How big is your penis? If you lied about the above and I get far enough with you to find out otherwise, you will live to regret it. So now is your last chance. How big is your penis?
5) Do you have any gifts that keep on giving?
6)Do you now or have you ever lived in a trailer park?
Those questions would save a lot of women, a lot of heartache. Myself included. Though, as I said to Mr. X the other night:
“I would take 20 more bad relationships to get to this one again.”
And he said, “Well, lucky for us, you don’t have to.”
Good luck girls!