Pic of the week: I won’t murder you

Hey, guys. I know most of you come to our site generally looking for a quick laugh, and we love (attempting to) deliver that to you. But as you may have noticed, the subject matter here at Stucu has turned a biiiit serious at times. Between L’s Message Monday and my uppity Match.com manifesto, we’re quickly gunning for the ‘co-bloggers who are most likely to hop on the nearest soap box at a moment’s notice” award. So if  LSD are coming off as weirdly morbid, super serious buzzkills these days, I apologize. In reality I promise you we are actually a LOT of fun and not as Debbie Downer in training as we’re probably coming off.

debbie downer

So thanks for sticking with us, even when our posts are accompanied by that magical WOMP WOMP noise. I promise you, more fun, light-hearted dating high jinx than can be found in your run of the mill Kate Hudson romcom will be posted in the near future. Having said that…

pic of the week knife

I’m sorry. Clearly I’m supposed to take this as a joke, but how about you don’t voluntarily put a picture of you wielding a knife on your online dating profile when the Craigslist Killer was an ACTUAL PERSON and expect me to be charmed by it, faceless dude? I’m sure you probably chuckled when you posted this, pleased at the irony, thinking girls would find you hilarious. And maybe some do. But here’s a fact:

THE OFFICE DWIGHT BEST

Most young women I know who are online dating are legitimately afraid of being assaulted, raped, or murdered. Is this fear probably exaggerated by too many episodes of SVU and Criminal Minds? Sure. Is this guy probably a totally normal non-murderer? Yup. But does him playing on this very real fear of mine in the name of irony and humor make me want to go out with him? Not so much. 

I hear all you dudes out there telling me to lighten up. Well, you don’t see me posting a profile pic that features me suggestively wielding a pair of sharpened gardening sheers over some dude’s crotch with a caption that reads “HAHA JUST BEING FUNNY TOTES WON’T GO ALL LORENA BOBBITT AND LOP OFF YOUR DICK WITH THIS SHARP WEAPON LULZZZZ”. Would the men of Okcupid find that funny, or would they think I’m a psycho? Pretttyyyy sure it would be the latter.

Okay, this is actually a fun game. Let’s think of some other things that men typically fear about dating. How about I post a picture of myself jabbing a few holes in a condom with one hand and flashing a positive pregnancy test with the other. Maybe I’ll be giving a thumbs up to the camera. Then in the caption I’ll say, “IT’S JUST A JOKE, GUYS! RELAX. AND DEFINITELY ASK ME OUT BECAUSE I TOTALLY WON’T DO THIS IN REAL LIFE 🙂 :).”

Last scenario: Hold up a fake restraining order that prevents me from being within 100 feet of a man, while simultaneously watching Fatal Attraction and taking notes.

fatal-attraction_l

Caption: “DON’T WORRY, BOYS. I’M TOTALLY NORMAL! TONS OF MENTAL STABILITY! 😉 😉 ;)”

Message Monday: Come to my hotel

Who said romance was dead? Certainly not this guy, who messaged me last week:

prostitute message 5-14-2013

Now here’s the thing. I don’t mind his frankness. In fact, I like that Romeo gets straight to the point. As I’ve said before, I absolutely HATE a lot of back and forth, and appreciate when a dude takes a little initiative and suggests a time (I believe he generously provides not ONE but TWO possible days for us to hang out) and a place (his hotel). 

Now, clearly, I did not respond to this. First of all, this guy’s approach is the exact same MO used by the Craigslist killer. Exact same. I mean, if this guy is, in fact, a killer, he should probably change it up a bit, because there are about 50 Wikipedia and news articles linking him to Phillip Markoff. 

But, secondly,and even more offensively, this guy is a union buster. A scab. A strikebreaker. Sir, I have no problem if you want to top off your business trip with a lil somethin’ somethin’. Better men than you have done the same thing:

But, be a good American, and pay for your services. A google search of “escorts DC” (Hi there, NSA!) reveals that there are several lovely websites, clubs, and phone numbers you can call to get someone to come to your hotel for “some fun.” I am not about to undercut working girls by giving out the same goods for free. So buddy, I urge you to call “Appealing Act,”* and leave the good ladies of OKC to hang out with guys who will at least buy us a drink before asking us to give it up. And readers, I leave you with this glorious nod to organized labor. Long live unions!

*Please know, that during the researching of this post, I accidently added Appealing Act’s Google Plus page to my “family” circle, and had to spend the last 30 minutes figuring out how to remove them. #winningattheinternet

Safety tips from S and D, or how to avoid being murdered while online dating

Good morning, class. Today’s lesson is sponsored by our mothers. Specifically, S’s mom, who requested that we write a post on how to “be safe” while we navigate the world of internet dating. My initial reaction was: Ugggghhhh mom. I’m 28. I’m a grown ass adult and I can take care of myself. Also, no one wants to read a stupid PSA about watching your back and carrying super sized pepper spray which your dad insisted on giving you and your roommate multiple cans of when you moved into the city. But the more I thought about it, the more I decided it’s actually not a stupid idea at all because let’s face it, the internet can be a terrifying place. There is some effed up sh*t out there, and the three of us are doing our best to avoid becoming the subject of a Lifetime movie. So this is actually a totally appropriate blog topic. You were right, mom, just like you were right about me plucking my eyebrows too thin in middle school. Damn it.

So without further delay, we present to you S and D’s safety tips on how to avoid being murdered while online dating:

  • Look for profile red flags. Pure common sense. Obviously the reason online dating is so scary is people can (and do) make up whatever they want about themselves and there’s no way to 100% know what’s true and what’s not. Even so, before you say yes to meeting someone, go over their profile with a critical eye. Have they posted clear pictures of themselves? Do they mention alarming details about dead animals or collecting medieval style weapons? Do they give troubling answers to okc questions?

safety post                                          If so, for God’s sake run, don’t walk, to the next profile.

  • Use the buddy system. That is, make sure at least one other reliable human being knows about your date. It can be a parent, a close friend, a roommate, whatever, just make sure that someone knows you’re meeting x at y location (always a public place, obviously) at z time. Tell them as much as you can about your date (okc username is a smart thing to include) so if your ass goes missing, Munch and Fin can start cracking skulls.                                                                                  Munch_Fin_Noncompliance
  • Google the shit out of your dates. Sorry, boys, we don’t care if this makes us sound like stalkers. Believe it or not, we’re not dying for a glimpse at your LinkedIn profile to see where you interned in 2006 (okay I lied, we want to know that too, but it’s of secondary importance). We mainly want to confirm that you are who you say you are and that you seem to have some sort of traceable identity/history that doesn’t include being on a list of registered sex offenders. Obviously this isn’t foolproof before a first date… #1, I often don’t have the guy’s last name yet since I refuse to give out mine (see D’s tip below) and #2, if he has a super common name, this could prove difficult without much else to go off of. But it’s always worth a try. You may even find out some fun shit about the person that you’ll then accidentally reveal that you know on your date. What? That’s never happened to me.
  • Never give a first date your full name or address. I may be able to google them, but they can’t google me. Even on the first date, I don’t supply my last name. Unless he manages to see it when I’m ID-ed ordering a drink, that shit stays secret until at least the third date. I have a very unique last name. If you google my full name, I’m the only person that comes up. Granted, most of it’s uninteresting, and some of it’s not even true (I did not graduate from Holy Cross School in Springfield, MA in 1985 – I was 1). But there’s also my parents’ home phone number and other identifying info that no date needs to have before I’ve even met him. And he’s most certainly not finding out where I live until date #5 at the earliest. If I’m being completely honest, that’s 60% related to safety, and 40% related to my piss-poor housekeeping abilities. If we make it to a 5th date, I’m invested enough to put some effort into tidying up and stop treating half my couch like it’s a dresser.
  • Accuse every guy you go out with (half jokingly) of being a murderer and/or rapist. This has become my schtick. At some point on a first date, I will casually drop a “Hahaha let’s hope you’re not a serial killer! J slash k! Not really!” into the conversation. I am 100% serious. I can’t even remember a date where I haven’t done that. It sounds silly, but here’s my thought process… I throw it out there, and if by some chance the guy is a rapist or serial killer, one of the following will happen:
  1. I’ll be able to tell by his reaction.
  2. He’ll be too worried about my superior crime solving skills to go through with his plan.
  3. He’ll be so impressed with my intelligence that he’ll spare my life.

This is foolproof, I tell you. Foolproof. It’s science.

  • Carry a Weapon. Seriously. In the storage compartment of my driver’s side door is a giant blue maglite that my father gave me when I first got a car. It’s come in handy for lots of flashlight related things over the years – finding something I dropped in the dark, checking out the damage after hitting a deer, etc. But my father was also not shy about instructing me to use it as a weapon, if needed. Maglites are heavy. And if you grip the flashlight head, it stays in your hand easier. Swing that fucker at someone’s temple and he’ll go DOWN. That maglite gets transferred into my purse for first and second dates. It’s a good thing I have large purses. And as I mentioned, my dad literally ordered me enough industrial grade pepper spray to bring down the fleet of Budweiser Clydesdales when I moved to the city, so I carry one in every bag.                                                                                            Maglitepepper spray

Now here’s the six million dollar question you may be asking yourself: have we ever broken our own rules?

Mom, before I answer this, it’s been real but it’s time for you to click away now. In fact, all moms everywhere: please go turn on OWN while your kids have a little chat. Love you guys!

…………………

Yes, I’ve ignored my own advice. I’ve accepted a ride home after a date. Twice. Usually I’ll walk to the date location, so if at the end of the date it’s cold or raining, and the guy seems legit, and I plan to see him again, and he offers me a ride home, he may get an extra “LOL as long as you’re not about to chop me into little pieces HAHAHA seriously please don’t do that”, but mama’s not about to turn that offer down. I do make them drop me at the corner and drive away so they can’t see exactly where I live (seriously). Also, not to sound like a ho fo sho, but the car is an ideal first kiss/make out locale for those times when you don’t want to risk life and limb and invite a stranger over to your apartment. Speaking of…

I’ve gone back to an okc date’s place after a first date. Once. Get your minds out of the gutter; we literally didn’t even kiss. But this move resulted in perhaps my most absurd first date story of all time which, while PG, I’ve been hesitant to tell you all about since as you now know, my mom reads this blog. In hindsight this was a stupid and careless decision but hey, I made it out alive and got a pretty fantastic story out of it (truth – it’s a really great story).

So, I’m probably going to come off as a prissy, uptight chick here, but I actually haven’t broken any of these rules (aaaand now I feel like an irresponsible floozy). I haven’t ever accepted a ride. This is really related to the fact that I hate the T and drive almost everywhere, so I’m never really in a position to need a ride. I will most likely break this rule if/when I leave my car at home and give the T a chance to get back in my good graces. I’ve also never gone back to a dude’s place after a first (or second) date, no matter how legit the guy seems or how into him I am. This is partially a product of cases I hear about from my best friend who is a DA, as well as my own experience interning at the public defender’s office here in Boston (an internship I loved and the kind of work I hope to do again, but still, there are some seriously sketchy people out there). It is also partially a product of my troubling pattern of being deeply attracted to actual, convicted felons (who’s the real floozy here? feeling less irresponsible now S??) (Yes! A little. Thanks, D)

For example, I encountered the most attractive man I have ever met, still to this day, in a prison back in 2006 while studying abroad. I interned with a criminal defense firm in London, and one day went with a solicitor to a prison out in Devon to visit a client. The Brits seriously love their tea, and one of the cushiest gigs an inmate can get while serving his sentence is to serve tea to solicitors visiting with their clients. I ordered at least a dozen cups of tea during the hour or so meeting I had with our awful client, just so that stunning specimen of a human being would keep coming back into the room. (Unbenownst to both of us until the train ride back, the solicitor I was with was doing the same thing for the same reason. That beautiful, beautiful man came into our meeting room more than 20 times. It was magical.) S can vouch for the fact that I got back to our flat that day swooning HARD (It’s true. F’d up, but true). I have no idea what he did to land himself in a prison in rural England, but I would have gone home with him in a heartbeat (you know, had he had the option of walking out of the building like I did, minor detail). I 4000% still would if I ever saw him again. Knowing that about myself, I think it’s best to abide strictly to the don’t-go-back-to-his-place-on-the-first-date rule. There’s a good chance he’s done hard time.

What do you single ladies out there do to ensure you don’t become a human lampshade on a first date? Any tips or suggestions that we missed? Do you possess the same level of paranoia that we do about online dating, or are you more relaxed? Leave us a comment and let us know.

Message Monday: Frozen Dinner/Death

I selected this message because it’s more typical than you, naive reader, who is not prowling the bowels of the internet for dates, might like to believe. Behold the magic below:

message monday 3-25-2013

First of all,  thanks for the compliment good sir. I do not find you attractive, since you have no picture.

Now, let’s discuss this “romantic” dinner:

1) As soon as I arrive, I’d like you to take my coat, crank up the jams, and pour me some booze. Please refrain from pulling me close until I’ve a) had several glasses of wine or b) you’ve cooked me a delicious meal and dazzled me with your conversation. And NO WHISPERING PLEASE. Whispering is for mean girls and for creepy murders. We’re alone in your apartment presumably, so not sure what’s preventing you from using a normal voice.

2) Are you being paid by an ad agency to do online dating product placement? In the span of 3 sentences, you’ve managed to cite two grocery store brands, both of which are popular with middle aged moms with children. Plus, everyone knows that Trader Joe’s makes the best frozen dinners. Momma’s not settling for no Birdseye.

3) Wait. BACK. THE. TRUCK. UP. Did you just offer me a frozen dinner? And grape juice in a wine glass? I know my profile screams classy broad, but let’s not overdo it. Save a little romance for the next guy.

4) Never ever ever mention your freezer in your message. As you may have noticed, a common thread throughout all of our blog posts is the nagging worry, “IS THIS GUY GOING TO CHOP ME UP AND PUT ME IN HIS FREEZER?” And you’ve gone and mentioned the freezer in your first message. Excuse me while I pepper spray my computer!  Mindy Kaling’s not the only woman who is going to be sleeping with a knife under her pillow tonight!

5) Also, you would “proceed to a wine glass with Welch’s grape juice” and…do what? Why does your message abruptly cut off? Is it because you’re literally so lazy you cannot be bothered to finish your sentences or is because the sentence would’ve ended with … “and drop a roofie into your glass” or “and then slap a rag with chloroform over your mouth?” I’m kinda relieved I didn’t find out.