Let me say it one more time for the cheap seats in the back:
Online dating is a STRAIGHT-UP hallucinogenic fishbowl of certifiable crazy.
Foot Fetish Freak:
I quickly learned, that it was crucial for me to implement some sort of vetting process, while “meeting” people online.
Like I said, online dating is a virtual hallucinogenic fishbowl of straight-up crazy.
Mostly fun and entertaining, but sometimes just plain, ole’ disturbing.
Hey, you’ve got to be willing to accept the bad, with the good.
My new vetting process was about as simple as it could be.
I considered texting an edited form of communication. Most people, reread and perhaps retype their messages before they hit “Send.”
I decided to go with phone calls.
I wanted to get the guy on the phone and hear his tone, how he responded to my awkward attempts at humor, how the conversation flowed…you know, just talk to the man and see if I felt like there even a semblance of a connection.
If it didn’t work out – or if he was a complete nutjob – I would just block the number and never chat with the guy again.
Easy-peasy.
I was “matched” with a man who seemed nice. We texted/emailed a bit on the site and then decided to chat on the phone.
We had “transplanted oilfield worker” in common. I thought I’d give it a shot.
I told him I’d call him from my car, while I drove the 52 miles to work, one Sunday.
At first, the conversation was pretty normal.
No red flags.
But I had learned – through my previous botched phone calls and dates – that the majority of people want to “Get their crazy out right out there for you to see,” and they did it as soon as they possibly could.
You know, to see if you’re cool with their particular, preferred variety of crazy.
I’m guessing, that they thought/felt…
”Hey, if I get my preferred crazy out there right away, and the other person isn’t cool with it, then I can cut my losses and not feel like I’ve wasted any time.”
I suppose I get it.
No one wants to feel like they’re wasting their time.
This particular man didn’t waste any time in dipping his toe into the crazy pond to see if I was okay with the ripple effect.
Literally.
While I was attempting to make small talk with him…“Where are you originally from?”…“How do you like it in North Dakota?”…
The craziness ensued pretty quickly and went something like this…
Him: “So, do you like feet?”
Me: “Ummmmm…what’s that now? I think my car phone is breaking up just little bit.”
Him: “Do you like feet?”
Me: “I mean, I like mine.”
Him: “Do you take care of your feet?”
Me: “What?”
Him: “You know, do you get pedicures and keep your pretty little toes, beautiful and sexy?”
Me: (Hesitantly…)”Yeah, I get pedicures.”
Feet gross me out more than anything else.
I gag a little when I pass a car and the woman has her bare feet up on the dash.
Him: (Voice dropping down an octave or two…) ”Oh, that’s sexy. I love sexy feet.”
Me: (Attempting to dump ice water on the feet conversation and move onto something else…) “I’m not a fan of feet at all. I think feet are gross.”
I’d rather eat my left eyeball then touch someone’s — anyone’s — feet. Seriously.
Him: (Completely unfettered…) “Oh, not me. I love feet. I love to massage them. Don’t you love to have your feet massaged?”
Me: “Nope. Not even a little bit.”
Him: “Oh, I love to massage feet…touch feet…look at feet – “
Me: “Okay. I get it. You’re into feet. Is there anything else you’d like to talk about – other than feet?”
Waterboarding would be better than having to touch someone’s feet, or have their feet on me.
Him: “Well, I want people to know how important feet are to me. I find them to be extremely erotic.”
Me: (Gagging a little bit…) ”Mission accomplished. You’ve made your point. Can we move on to another topic now?”
At this point, I probably threw up a little bit in my mouth.
I’ve maybe traveled about 10 of the 52 miles at this point.
Him: “Just that I love to take a woman’s feet, push them together and then shove my penis in between them, so her feet are stroking my erection. In fact, I can’t get an erection unless a woman’s feet are touching my – “
My car lurched to the right.
I damn near crashed it!
I couldn’t hang up on Mr. Foot Fetish Freak fast enough!
Turning up the music on one of my satellite radio stations, I tried to shake off what I’d just heard.
Guess what song was playing?
“Super Freak”!!!
More soon,
-A