The Creeper
The kind of man who the less innocent should fear
Let me lay the ground work here. I'm no prude, but I'm also definitely not a slut, and the dating scene in Wichita is interesting to say the least. Men typically fit into one of five categories: Older and single for a reason; younger and either still wanting to play or not quite out of the crazy college phase; or all of your female friends have already been there. Then there is the rare fourth kind of man that I have only had chance encounters with, and wish to keep that way, the creeper. Most of the fifth category is either in hiding, has left the metro or is married to someone else, the dream man, but I still have hope he may be out there. This story is about the first kind, but there is a major plot twist that turns him into a number five.
I decided to try a free online dating site to open up my options. I created an account with a couple basic pictures, and some descriptions and comments that are witty yet somewhat insulting to those of the male persuasion. I have had some bad luck with dating sites in the past, but thought I would give it one last try. The usual onslaught of hillbillies and fat weirdos threw their Hail Mary passes and told me my eyes, smile, cheeks, hair or whatever visible body part were just beautiful and that they could totally change my life, or surprise me with their random savant tendencies. After blocking the first couple dozen men who I assume had IQs lower than 70, and a couple of gangsters who went straight to perv status, I thought I was out of the initial tidal wave. So when a charming forty something who claimed to be a successful banker and wasn't too hard on the eyes reached out, my guard was down a little.
I flirted, sent return messages to his inquiries, and about three days, and a couple dozen messages in, he asked for my number to text and talk. I complied, and the third text message I received was quite a surprise. An unprompted dick picture. Not only did the picture include his subpar genitalia, but his slightly above average middle age body and face. Now, had I either asked for something risqué or known the guy longer I may have replied more tactfully to his question of, "what did that do for you?"
Instead I responded with, "Actually it made me laugh out loud. Not only was that nothing special but it just leeched every ounce of desire from my young and attractive lady bits. Best of luck, although you're likely better suited for a lonely cougar somewhere."
His shock didn't surprise me. Men who send pictures so readily have likely had their egos, and little else, stroked by far too many women. Now, it's not that I enjoy putting the creepers I their place, but I definitely enjoy putting creepers in their place, and then demanding more respect than they are capable of before I end things. I told Gerome I wasn't interested in his mediocre attempts at flirting, and his even less appealing actions. I deleted his number after suggesting he do the same.
About a week later I logged back onto the site to do the requisite profile blocking only to discover a notification that the user's profile no longer exists ... and a wonderful message from "The Wolfman."
I decided to try a free online dating site to open up my options. I created an account with a couple basic pictures, and some descriptions and comments that are witty yet somewhat insulting to those of the male persuasion. I have had some bad luck with dating sites in the past, but thought I would give it one last try. The usual onslaught of hillbillies and fat weirdos threw their Hail Mary passes and told me my eyes, smile, cheeks, hair or whatever visible body part were just beautiful and that they could totally change my life, or surprise me with their random savant tendencies. After blocking the first couple dozen men who I assume had IQs lower than 70, and a couple of gangsters who went straight to perv status, I thought I was out of the initial tidal wave. So when a charming forty something who claimed to be a successful banker and wasn't too hard on the eyes reached out, my guard was down a little.
I flirted, sent return messages to his inquiries, and about three days, and a couple dozen messages in, he asked for my number to text and talk. I complied, and the third text message I received was quite a surprise. An unprompted dick picture. Not only did the picture include his subpar genitalia, but his slightly above average middle age body and face. Now, had I either asked for something risqué or known the guy longer I may have replied more tactfully to his question of, "what did that do for you?"
Instead I responded with, "Actually it made me laugh out loud. Not only was that nothing special but it just leeched every ounce of desire from my young and attractive lady bits. Best of luck, although you're likely better suited for a lonely cougar somewhere."
His shock didn't surprise me. Men who send pictures so readily have likely had their egos, and little else, stroked by far too many women. Now, it's not that I enjoy putting the creepers I their place, but I definitely enjoy putting creepers in their place, and then demanding more respect than they are capable of before I end things. I told Gerome I wasn't interested in his mediocre attempts at flirting, and his even less appealing actions. I deleted his number after suggesting he do the same.
About a week later I logged back onto the site to do the requisite profile blocking only to discover a notification that the user's profile no longer exists ... and a wonderful message from "The Wolfman."
