Empty Feelds

Every time I think I’ve started to get back to posting things chronologically, something more interesting happens.

There was someone I missed, after The Couple, back in March, I got drunk told a stranger about my dip into polyamory, which lead to her telling me about Feeld. I was messaged by a guy who ended up living four blocks away from me. He asked if I had done anything with a couple before, I shared some experiences, he mentioned he kind of gave up looking for anything long term and his schedule was so frantic he just wanted something over nothing.

We chatted for a bit, agreed to meet up.

Looking back, this should have been my first indication to stay away from anyone and everyone that has anything to do with the army. (*No, I have nothing personally against the armed forces, it just so happens that starting with this guy, I ended up going out with few other army guys, and while they were great fun, kind of turned out to be douche bags. Generalization, perhaps but can’t say I didn’t do my research.) 

We hung out, he taught me how to remove a bottle cap in three different ways which was cool. The sex was mediocre. He was never available and always wanted to hang out for stupidly long periods of time and basically talk about how his life had averted to nothing.

He ended up telling me he was being posted to Latvia…and then I explained to him what ghosting was. Two weeks later he tried to add me to snapchat and I ignored it.

Probably the most annoying part about these kind of encounters is the lack of orgasm. I don’t seem to get anything physically or intellectually. Maybe I’ll start a Go Fund Me page for a better vibrator. Seeing as I broke my last one. 


Use your words

Probably my biggest frustration with online relationships, whether casual or long term is no one says what they want, if they even know what it is.

I pride myself on being one of the most honest people you’ll ever meet. Or, at least, top ten.

What do I want? Well–nope, never mind. No one gives a shit.

Type #1.
Let me see your tits. How do you like getting fucked? Are you a bad girl? Do you live alone? What the access to your balcony like? When can you come sit on my face/suck me off? You like it up the ass? How big are those tits? Show me your ass. *Dick pic. Dick pic. Dick pic.* I’m not bothered by this type, because at least there’s no runaround. What bothers me is when they sling around rude comments when I say I’m not up for it.

Type #2
I want your number. I want to text you until your phone explodes. I want pictures of everything, don’t care if they’re nudes. Your face. Your car. Your new pants. Show me, I want to see it all. Tell me how your day is going, I’m going to ask you again right away because I’m not really paying attention. Just talk to me. All day. Are you mad? Why aren’t you replying? You know for a fat chick you’re pretty picky. You’re just a bitch, fuck you.
Hey…want to hang out?

Type #3
J-j-jaded. All women are the devil. You’re all liars. My ex-wife/girlfriends/partners shit is still in my garage and maybe I’ll give it back to her, maybe I’m selling it on kijiji right now. Want to hang out? I can’t date, women just want to suck you dry after all, but come over, we’ll get high/drunk. I’m not weird, I promise. I’m still in love with her though. Let’s just hang out and maybe cuddle. I’m lonely. Come over and watch a movie, let’s cuddle.I may still be in love with my ex but I want to talk about how cool you are. She’s not cool, you’re so cool, so, want to hang out?

Type #4
I come across as half-decently normal. Make half-decently normal conversation but I don’t really ask you anything about yourself. I really seem like a nice guy, in fact, I call myself a nice guy. What do I want?
I want to hang out, fuck you a few times, and then chuck you because in a dispensable world of swipes and likes, you’re dispensable, and so am I.

Type #5
I want you to have my kids. I’ve recently lost weight/in the process want to start my new life right now. My new life change is happening right now my new job/passion/hobby I want everything to be about you but I don’t really care to get to know you slowly because I want it right now. I can give you everything, I’ll make you my queen, or maybe her, I’ll make her my queen too. It doesn’t really matter to me because I just want someone.

Yes, I’m fully aware that people do meet their partners on tinder/POF/OKCupid/Match, whatever, and I’m sure that they were none of the above. So far, for women, there’s only two categories as they LGBTQ community where I live isn’t very large. More poly couples that anything.

Maybe when I meet someone that I actually end up dating for a while, then I’ll revamp.

Hot garbage fire

I went out on what I thought was the worst date humanly possible.

Toothless shows up, was perfectly respectful until he started mocking East Indian culture in an assortment of ways I don’t care to rehash. Let me start by saying I talk a lot. This date, I said, maybe, twelve sentences over the course of two and a half hours. There was an exhibit at the observatory that I’d been wanting to go to so I suggested we go to that.

Impulsivity strikes again.

He talked the entire time. No pause for breath, no slide into asking me about myself, he would not shut up. While managing to insult Indian culture he went on and on about this Indian practice he was mastering to re-harness his energy by only eating fruit to increase his water intake. Of course he was also a master sniper, master at several different forms of martial arts, could fix any and all farm equipment, trucks. Blah, blah, blah. 

I didn’t bring a ruler. This is not a dick measuring competition. The worst part, when we were at the exhibit, he interrupted the university educated volunteers and tried to state he knew more about space than they did.

I could have slapped him he was being so arrogant. I actually COUNTED the minutes until he dropped me off home. I do not ghost people, but I didn’t have the energy to explain to him why the date did not go well.

I gave up for almost two weeks or so, stuck my head in the sand and focused on roller derby. It was a bank holiday in Canada so Saturday afternoon boredom kicked in, found a date for Sunday night after talking to this guy most of Saturday.

Cutting right to the point: The most racist piece of shit I’ve ever met. That’s the long and short of it. We opted to go for a walk so I was stuck with him. Fifteen minutes in he starts sprouting this shit about how hard whites have it, how the term Caucasian is racist and how, ‘his black friends let him use the ‘n’ word’. I let him continue for about 10 minutes before I calmly told him that on a fundamental level he was wrong and what he was saying was racist. What he had discussed between his friends was what it was, but he cannot be so presumptuous to assume that he can ‘take back’ a word rooted in intolerance and oppression. He wanted to debate it, I said no, he was wrong. We ended up yelling at each other and he wanted to just walk away but we were stuck walking together, in silence…for another twenty five minutes because it was dark and I didn’t know where the hell my car was.

I ended up breaking down and crying in my car out of frustration and anger. He denoted my intelligence because I refused to educate him on Why White People Can’t Use the N-Word. Just Google it. If you have black friends, who will still speak to you after having the standpoint that you’re entitled to use it, ask them about their negative experiences with white people using this word. It’s not a friendly term of endearment for white people to use for the black friends. And if you’re unsure, DON’T FUCKING USE IT AT ALL.

Don’t get me wrong, I have had conversations about race with individuals who seemed open-minded to discussing discourse and representation, but racism is kind of like hot garbage fire, sometimes you have to be close enough to smell it.