When you’re in the dating game long enough, you come to understand certain types of characters you won’t mesh well with. Sometimes, new guys come along bearing all the red flags of an ex, sending your flight or fight response to a healthy “get the fuck out of there.”
Back in college, a wavy-haired nano-scientist caught my attention at a potluck. He was socially awkward and deviant. But goddamn, he sat so high up on the spectrum I’m not sure how he even had any friends. His empathy gauge always ran on empty and by the end of our relationship, I’d become convinced of his psychopathy.
Yesterday, I played around on a Chinese app called Momo. Someone sent me a message using simplified Chinese characters so I responded immediately. He looked alright in his pics. Unfortunately, when I got there, I discovered he was shorter than me by several inches, too skinny, and super awkward. And no, it’s not because he’s Chinese. I met plenty of other Chinese guys who inhale and exhale cool. I didn’t wanna be rude and I felt a bit hungry, so I sat and had coffee with the guy.
“What do you do?” I asked.
“I’m an astronomer,” he replied.
“Wow, that’s actually super cool.”
I wasn’t lying. Studying the stars is pretty badass. But the more I talked to him, the more I realized he was a Paul, even down to the ticks and strange facial expressions.
“Sometimes, I get lonely,” he said, “I live alone. I’d like someone to talk to besides my colleagues.”
Actually, there’s nothing inherently wrong with this concept. We all get lonely and we all need stimulating conversation that has nothing to do with work. That’s just human nature.
Unfortunately, I’m a shallow bitch and can’t be serious about a dude who makes me look like an Amazonian warrior princess when I stand next to him. Nor could I stomach looking at his oddly-shaped dick. I’d seen a lot of cocks in my life on the Internet and this guy’s wang was in The Top 5 List of Least Aesthetically-Pleasing. It was skinny at the bottom and thick at the top like an ice cream cone. He actually wanted oral. I declined. A trouser snake needs to appeal to my eyes if I’m gonna stick my face anywhere near the damn thing.
He had a receding hairline at 33 years old. He couldn’t look me in the eye during conversations and wouldn’t sit still for five minutes. Despite his PhD and experience with international travel, the most basic social skills seemed to elude him. There were just too many deal-breakers with that guy. On to the next one.