[dropcap]T[/dropcap]witter has a way of being simultaneously creepy and awesome all at once; I’ve never once thought of it as a dating website, but I realize and totally accept that you can generate connections with people on there, like anywhere else, decide to meet and that connection can either blossom or fizzle.
In this particular instance, it fizzled. Big time. Maybe it’s because I didn’t look into things well enough before hand and didn’t know what I was getting myself into. Pro-tip, ladies (and gentlemen) if someone has their full name as their name in their twitter bio do yourself a favour and Google that shit.
With that being said, here’s an unconventional ‘how to’ avoid meeting Creepy People From Twitter because one mistake is all it takes.
I was never the type of person to have a “crush” on someone I had never met – sure, I’d met someone because of Twitter and ended up having feelings for them (one-sided, albeit, but this is a whole other ball game that we shouldn’t get into right now), but I didn’t follow this person before meeting him. That being said, I never used twitter to fish out a date.
A number of months ago, I’d been talking with a guy. It was nothing out of the ordinary, and he wasn’t someone I talked to on a regular basis, but every now and then we’d respond to one another’s tweets – there was never an inkling of anything happening – ever. This situation started off no different: he tweeted something, I responded – not thinking it would lead to anything – and then subsequently he direct messaged me with his phone number. I texted him because, hey, why not. (It was closing in on 2 o’clock in the morning and I was fully aware of what kind of conversation was about to happen. Completely out of character but I decided to, as they say, “go for it.”)
Our… conversation, if you can call it that, started. He went straight for it, wanting to know what I was “doing” and, blah blah blah, it was your standard, stereotypical dirty talk. He then had the audacity to say something like how he was “blessed” with a huge… well, you know, and how previous partners had fawned over its size and wanted to make sure I could “handle it.” (First of all, there were no plans made to actually get ‘er done, if you know what I mean but, okay, I’m happy you’ve had your ego stroked at some point in your life.) Then he actually sent me a picture of it. Let’s be clear: I didn’t even ask for “proof” but once the other person’s sent it there’s no way of sending it back So – BAM – there it was.
Strike number one. Unwanted penis picture on my phone. How was it not possible for a disaster to unfold after this? When a guy sends you that you know they’re expecting one of a similar fashion in return. I waited for it because I knew it was coming, no pun intended, said something about how my tits were “second to none” and then made absolutely no qualms about asking for a photo. Let’s be honest for a second because I’ve never actively or purposely gone around flaunting pictures of my cleavage on the internet, no matter how real or spectacular they are, but a guy will say anything when he’s jonesing to get off.
So, we ‘finished’ the conversation and by this time it was well after 3 o’clock in the morning and I was exhausted. Later in the morning, I woke up to a text from him sometime around 10, we chatted lightly for a bit, and then he wanted me to know that he does this kind of “flirt texting” with a number of people and I … really didn’t care. Why did he think it mattered to me? Cool story, bro, I have no emotional investment in this. We both had plans to be at the same place later which I’d considered bailing on but I eventually decided to go because doing something is better than doing nothing.
He met us where we were having dinner and we nodded at each other from across the table, made brief (see: awkward) small chat and then I continued talking with the people around me. My phone went off so I checked to see what it was and, lo and behold, he texted something to me about how I was “cute” and that I had “great cleavage” and so on and so forth – I knew where this was going and the night had only just begun.
I’m not even sure why I decided to go through with this but, let’s be honest for a second, enjoyed the flattery even though I knew it was only to get in my pants.
After our evening with the group concluded, we went back to his place (always a better idea to go to the guy’s place rather than bring him back to yours). We made more small talk and, I very clearly remember at one point, when we were talking about how old we were, saying, “don’t worry, I’m legal” and laughed (you’ll see why this is important later). He mentioned he had a FWB, so this was clearly an “off” night for her, or things didn’t go as planned. I’m not sure if telling me that was supposed to make me jealous, or make him seem more desirable, but it didn’t matter because this was nothing more, anyway.
We played a card game, I can’t even remember what it was, fooled around (no sex) which I’m quite grateful for; but – because there’s always a but – remember when I told you about him bragging about his size? Well, as we were, you know, fooling around, he had the audacity to actually ask me what I thought of it and, let’s be real ladies, if a guy has to ask that he’s clearly compensating for something that’s not there. TRUST YOU ME, it was nothing to write home about – not even just his cock, but the sleazy way he talked and raspy whispering which is NOT ALWAYS HOT because he was trying too hard. For someone with an FWB, sexy times didn’t seem like it was something he was very skilled at. Strike number two (how are we only at two strikes?). If you’re gonna brag about it and all your sexual partners, you better live up to your own hype. I didn’t really have a response and really just wanted it to be over; as soon as it was, I gathered up my things and left and was home before midnight.
Over the next couple of days, there wasn’t any texting – the situation was kind of weird, and it didn’t sit right with me when I left his place that night. Like I said, I I’m not sure I can say I’m glad it was “over with” because I wasn’t particularly glad anything had happened to begin with (he wasn’t that good of a kisser and even though he bragged about size, it wasn’t that impressive). I was feeling curious, though, and decided: I WANNA GOOGLE THIS GUY JUST TO SEE WHAT POPS UP!
So, here’s the thing. You know when you google someone, you never actually think something’s gonna turn up? I mean, sure, you wonder about it, but the possibilities of some juicy news story(ies) ending up on the internet about some guy you fooled around with over the weekend doesn’t become a reality UNTIL IT HAPPENS TO YOU.
Let me put it this way. How would you feel if you just discovered you recently fooled around with someone charged with sexual assault?!?! There are no words. Well, I’ll put it this way: You want a cold fucking shower, fast, and it’s almost funny because you actually can’t believe it happened. His name isn’t a particularly common one along with the profession he works in and his age was about right (it had happened a few years ago), so I knew it was him. There was no mistaking this. Strike number fucking three. This is so much more than a strike that I don’t even know what would come after.
His ears must have been ringing, or something, because he texted me shortly after I discovered this with something like “we need to finish what we started” (thought you had an FWB, dude – and then I thought – DOES THIS PERSON EVEN KNOW WHAT I KNOW???) and, well, that was enough of that.
I’ve not seen, or had anything to do with him since. He doesn’t know that I know that about him but it’s almost hard not to know – you’re googleable, dude. Although I’m sure it’s not something you want on your dating resume, it doesn’t take a brain surgeon to google someone’s name.
In summary, friends, there are a few ways to avoid Twitter Creeps.
The first one is obviously googling the person’s name.
Don’t jump into something so quickly because you had a few to drink.
Get to know someone you’ve never met before fooling around with them.
It will save you a lot of embarrassment even if it makes for a great story later on.
Jocelyn likes long walks on the beach, red wine and prefers to date non-felons (it’s just safer that way). Okay well the first two things might not be true, I know she digs wine but I can’t really speak to preference and I mean does anybody actually like walks on the beach when they could be sleeping or making out or watching TV instead…am I right? Nonetheless I can say with absolute certainty…she’s not into the felons. Case closed (see what I just did there?). To read more of her quick wit you can follow Jocelyn on Twitter.