Giving business the business.

I received an email three days ago from a Dan T****ns, (I decided not to blank out the surname entirely so as to inspire just the right amount of terror in the sender), that went as follows:

 

Hello,

Long time no see. I was wondering what you are up to this weekend?

Dan

Because my email service providers spam filter has been working like a government minister on a fact finding mission in Tahiti lately, I was naturally a bit suspicious, and sent the following reply:

How do you know me?

Two days later, I received an email, in my spam filter this time, about an 'Exciting new service for singles,' signed off on by its creator, one Dan T****ns.  This aggravated me for two reasons.  The first, obviously, is the fact that this person/money-making concern was able to bypass my spam filter by posing as an individual.  Insidious to say the least.  The second, and most important reason, is that it came on the very same day that I sent out several aggrieved responses on Twitter to the seventeen or so companies who followed me under the guise of individuals.  Some of these companies were also dating services; one offered to bypass dating altogether for a fee, if you know what I mean.  My blocking these users and exposing their tactics to my seventy or so followers resulted in yet more faux individuals following me, which I could only assume was either a pathetic attempt at revenge, or a barely literate programmer's misapprehension of exactly what I was driving at.  My regular readers will know that I like to give dating sites, and matchmaking services in general, a thorough going over with a rusty chainsaw, and for good reason; they take advantage of lonely people in order to fund their creator's lifestyles.  So, Mr Dan T****ns, and any other individuals/concerns with designs on bilking me out of my hard-earned child support, I offer the following response:

I am not now, and will never be, interested in utilising your services.  Whilst companionship would certainly be desirable at this point in my life, I would prefer to rely upon my own, admittedly sketchy, judgement and good taste when it comes to procuring it.  I thank you for your kind offer, and wish you luck with your business endeavours in the future.  On that subject, I've noticed that there are several underground pharmaceutical companies advertising their services in much the same way; perhaps you should consider a joint venture?  I should imagine the earnings you could derive by finding companionship for lonely eighty year-olds who have regained the use of their penises after twenty odd years of flaccidity would be more than substantial. 

Too much?  

Did the Internet kill romance?

I may not be a starry-eyed, dewy complexioned princess - challenge me to a belching contest at your peril - but does my age and lack of refinement make me less entitled to be treated like a lady?  Despite the (thoroughly deserved) bollocking I like to give Internet dating sites, I still find myself irresistibly drawn to them whenever I feel lonely, much like an alcoholic switching to wine coolers when the free bar runs dry of the good stuff at a wedding.  It was on Sunday night, while reflecting on Friday nights disappointing turn of events (see my previous post), that I found myself in just this sort of mood, and  reluctantly turned on my computer and checked in to the Loser's Lounge.  The regret began to set in as I was chatting to a guy who for all intents and purposes could have been completely normal.  Handsome, witty, highly educated; his profile read like a resume...which is why my heart sank when his initial greeting popped up onscreen.

'Hey, u r hot.'

Oh dear. 

Disconcerting as his opening line was, I pressed on, chalking up the less than sparkling banter to the late hour.  The conversation did ever so slightly improve from there.  We discussed the usual introductory things; career, favourite films, etc.  He made some very funny jokes, which as anyone will tell you is the quickest way to my heart, and I was starting to warm towards him when he took a switch blade and exploded the pretty illusion balloon floating above my head.

'I'll bet you get pretty w*t, don't you?'

If there was any fluid dripping off me at that moment, it was from the bucket of ice water he had just emptied over my head.  I asked him to repeat himself, although I can't for the life of me figure out why, and he voiced his enquiry again.  I let the red x in the top right corner of the screen speak for me from there and I haven't dared go back to the site since.  I'm no choir girl - by ANY stretch of the imagination - but was it asking too much that the conversation not get saucy until it was appropriate, say for example after we had actually met?  What's worse is that this isn't the first time this has happened to me.  Up until now I've seen dating sites as my back-up option; a sort of insurance policy, but if these guys are the best cyberspace has to offer, and a little loneliness is the only price of serendipity, I think I'll rely on fate from now on.