Womens is Cray-zay

When I found myself single for the first time in 13 years, I realized something: I had forgotten how to meet women. I'm not sure I ever knew how. All the Janes I'd loved before had pursued me. So, after bolstering my courage with eight single malt scotches (each with a solitary spring water ice cube, because I'm not, like, a barbarian or anything) I decided it was time to get "out there" again. Putting my best foot forward, I tripped and fell into the door jamb and decided maybe it would be safer to try to meet someone online instead. My buddy, Travis, had met his wife online... surely I could at least procure a date.

A quick summary of some memorable but not-so-pleasurable experiences from my first round of Innanet dating include, but are not limited to:

• Two women that both found it perfectly normal to call me at 1:30 in the morning for psychoanalysis (both of whom I'd had only one date with... bizarre, huh?);
• One date that had us meet at a drag show for a very surreal first date;
• Two women that wanted my babies after one date;
• A gal suffering from such delusional paranoia that she became convinced after our first date that I was only going out with her to sleep with her roommate -- her roommate that she had in college ten years prior in a different state and that I'd never seen, no less;
• One woman that posted a photo from seven years prior claiming that, even after childbirth, the passing of the nineties, and the addition of 50 pounds she felt she looked "exactly the same as when the photo was taken";
• One woman that found herself incredibly sexually attracted to me to only later discover that I reminded her exactly of her brother (eesh!);
• And one of my favorites: a woman that showed up an hour late for my homecooked meal, drank the entire bottle of wine, talked the entire way through the rented movie, insisted on imparting an unsolicited two-hour long monologue about her dysfunctional past, freaked out claiming my bathroom turned her lips purple (see Purple Lips post) and bit my big toe twice before being asked to leave.

And then there were some seriously scary dates.

Ladies, if you're out there: thank you for the memories, I hope you're getting the help you deserve, and I owe you a debt of gratitude -- had I not fled from you screaming into the night like a hunted man, I would not have met Jane.