THE ARABLOUNGE EXPERIMENT

Have you ever tried the drudgery of online dating?  Well, I have.  Now, many of you may already have a preset notion that it sucks.  Others may argue otherwise, claiming to have found The One on it, or in the process of it.  My situation is not so fortunate! I have a devised some stories of my online escapade from ArabLounge.com.

The ArabLounge experiment


What I did was look for my options.  I signed on, behind my mother's back (because in her eyes, she would believe that I was looking for husband, thus thinking that her goal of me getting married by December would come true).  Yes, she implemented a goal. More like a deadline, but I like to call it a goal.  It was my goal specifically to wait and NOT get married by December just out of sheer spite for her even mentioning that ludicrous timeline.  Anyways, I told most of the men a fake name, and a fake life...meaning, I live alone in the city, I have a super amazing job and that's about the only lie I told them.  My personality was no different and I did not upload a photo.  However, if I seemed to have like a person, or didn't think anything shady of them within the first few minutes of our "chat", I would tell them the real truth, my name and the fact that I don't live alone.  The results are as follows.  Enjoy! 

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The Stalker

  The Stalker contacted me because he was "in love" with my profile, that lacked a picture.  He claimed that I was hysterical.  Well, he didn't use that word because I don't think he was quite the articulate kind.  But, for those of us who know English, I used a synonym.  The Stalker seemed nice.  However, he was quite older than I, and had a child.  Being a never married "girl", I wasn't ready to allow myself the extra baggage.  Besides, women are already branded as crazy, and I have enough issues on my own to deal with.  Either way, he was kind and a bit funny.  Not too much.  But, he tried and I give him credit for it.  Well, I eventually lost interest with our chats because I knew I wasn't going to allow it to go further than online.  I started receiving email messages wondering where I was, giving me his number, and eventually it led to, "WHERE ARE YOU?"! Yes, all in caps.  The Stalker yelled at me via email.  How nice.  Needless to say, I became even more distant.  I eventually wrote to The Stalker and told him that his inability to back off was quite scary.  That was my first experience with the wonderful world of ArabLounge.com.

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The Christian

  The Christian was a nice fellow.  He was a stetson young fellow working for a good company in the city.  He lived downtown, seeming to do well for himself.  He was also new to the area.  His point in case for ArabLounge was to meet new people (he really wanted to meet women considering he was a frequent flier of  ArabLounge) and was doing so-so with that.  Him and I were chatting for quite a bit.  Honestly, I didn't tell him my real name or situation because I didn't feel that I could trust the man.  What was ironic was that he trusted me with everything (or at least that is what it seemed like).  The kicker was when he told me that he went on a date and thought of me throughout the whole date.  I thought it was quite brazen of him to admit that and I admired him for that, although not enough to give him a phone number.  After chatting with him, I looked a bit more closely at his profile and found that he was Christian.  If you didn't see the news today, I'm Muslim.  I became a bit frustrated with the fact that it stated on my profile that I was looking for a Muslim!  When I eventually deleted the account, I failed to notify him of my departure.  Well, at least Jesus loves The Christian.

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The Divorce' 


  This man was also 10 years my senior (The Stalker with the 12 year old was 10 years older than me. I failed to note both their ages of him and his child).  He seemed very nice. He was Sweet, educated, had a sense of humor, and wit.  However, his taste in music is accustomed to a man smack dab in the middle of a mid-life crisis, ridiculed of DJ Tiesto and other nonsense of noise that are pointless to my ears. I told him the fib of my life, living alone...blah blah blah.  His response entailed that he was "cool" with it because it showed my independence and lack of need.  I thought, "Very nice! This guy has an open mind." 
    Now, his name is strictly what it is, he is divorced.  Let me clarify, I have nothing wrong with anyone that is divorced, and it is none of my business to why this man was divorced.  We were not close enough to discuss it, plus I didn't want to damper our conversations with his past issues.  I have never been divorced, but This One sure as hell made me think I was in one! I eventually told him the truth;  my real name, my real job, and the fact that I lived with my mother (typical Arab unmarried girl).  Let me state again, my personality was no different.  His response, he was glad that I do not live alone. Girls shouldn't be living alone. It seems that someone is a bit on the contradictory side, fun future!  After giving him more of the benefit of the doubt (because hypocrisy seemed to be prevalent with his personality after the I shouldn't be living alone comment), I gave The Divorce' my number and we began talking.  He became upset of the fact that we did not speak daily.  I simply didn't have the time for a conversation everyday.  Those who know me, know that!  Plus, I hate talking on the phone. Yes, a girl just said that she hated talking on the phone.
   One day, he had sent a text, and I responded with a joke of the topic that he sent me.  It was a very meaningless text. I don't remember what was said, that is how pointless it was to me.  He then responded back with a phone call and few other people to back up his personality.  One person began telling me (after handing the phone to this person) that The Divorce' was really a great guy and very trustworthy and handsome, etc.  My eyes were practically bulging out and near the floor along with my jaw.  Another person soon exclaimed to me how fantastic and helpful The Divorce' is and how I am a very lucky person to be talking to him! Now that's great and fantastic that Divorce' is capable of being a great man, but why the testimonies?  Regardless, I apologized that he took whatever I said to heart and had to explain to him that I am a trustful person and that he gave me to reason not to trust him.  We must also consider the notion that this was not really a relationship.  These were just mere phone calls that lasted no longer than an hour.
  We then decided to meet, or go on a date in the words of an American.  Well, I was happy that I can actually meet this person and see what he was about.  After a few more conversations, we began to talk about The Mistake (the mistake is the cause of The Debacle, aka Marriage).  I ask why he spoke so much of The Mistake.  He told me that it is one of his "to do's", as if it were on a checklist of some sort! I told him this, if you make it seem like a task, then it will be a task.  He apparently didn't like that.  Reason to why I know he didn't like that...he canceled our date the day of.  FAIL Divorce', fail.

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The Whitewash

 The Whitewash was of Middle Eastern decent, who had no idea of where he was from.  He thought our culture was devised of hummos, baba ghanoush, bellydancers, and hookah.  He was completely oblivious to the fact that there was a language attached to the culture! He lacked any real interpretation of who he was because he was, in his eyes, white.  I also went on a date with The Whitewash.  In fact, I was honest with him from the get-go.  He wasn't my type at all, in fact a bit too skinny for my liking, but seemed very laid back and Americanized.  Little did I know how Americanized he was!  
  Our date consisted of a quaint Middle Eastern restaurant in the city.  It is actually one of my favorite places. He was not dressed for the occasion.  A white tee shirt (more like undershirt...Arab hillbilly), jeans, baseball cap, and gym shoes clearly expressed the lack of respect for a first date. It could have also been that he was that low maintenance. I, on the other hand came causal (slightly lifted up a notch) with a bit dressier shirt (which didn't belong under anything, it was a regular shirt), also known as the blouse.  It was something nice, you get the point.  Oh yeah!  I wore heels and had makeup on.  I don't always where too much makeup.  On this day, I wore mascara! I only wear mascara to weddings! So yes, I took a bit extra care that day.  Sorry for the digression, I tend to do that on occasion.  As I was saying, we go to the restaurant and he orders an appetizer, of course it was hummos.  He then decides to order the specialty wine (which was far better than my date).  He then apologized for the fact that we are ordering wine to the owner! "Sorry to have Arabs do this, but can we have a glass of .....".

Really?!?!?!?!?!?!  YOU FUCKNUT (thought in my head) 

First, did they have to know that we were Arab? Second, did you NOT know that NOT all Arabs are Muslim?  Third, SHUT THE FUCK UP! OMG!
  After watching this creature eat, and having to continuously point out that he had something on the side of his mouth from the food (more than twice), the bill came.  Yes, the wretched bill.  As always, because I am not expecting him to pay for everything, I offered to pay.  He accepted. I was not surprised. I'm a bit old school in that sense, a gentleman always pays and holds the door open and blah blah bullshit that I expect in a man. Although, it was kind of him to knock a few dollars off because I drove to the city (considering I don't live in the city, but the 'burbs are boring as hell and full of chain junk).  Just in case you couldn't tell, the last sentence was sarcasm.  We then went for coffee.  The coffee escapade was quite the trip.  He paid (thanks jag, very nice of you to dish out an extra $4 on shitty coffee) and then told me of his business plans.  I told him my two cents, and he didn't like it.  Needless to say, the no-phone call back to one another was a mutual feeling.

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The Hornball

The chat went as follows:

Hornball: "Hi"
Me: "Hi"
HB: "You horny?"
Me: (clicking the exit button)

HB opens window again:

HB: "You horny?"
Me: (wondering at this point if he got the message that I thought he was a douche. AL notifies you when someone closes their window) "I'm a transvestite and my dick is probably bigger than yours." (close window)

Never heard from him again.

SAVE!

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My Screw-up with the one that was Out of My League

  For him to even have agreed to go out with me that day was quite interesting to me.  It showed that handsome men see more than appearance.  It was a breathe of fresh air.  It was nice. I have a preset notion that good looking men are shallow.
   Too make a long story short, I'll give you the juicy part.  I did the biggest faux-paux that could have ever been done (actually there were two major fauxs).  One of them consisted of me drinking more than I can handle.  Can I just say that sangria is a silent effing killer!  It's like the AIDS virus! You don't know that you have it until you have it! Well, then with a bit more peer pressure (this was a double date/meet), I had something else and that topped me off.  Now, this was consistant throughout the night (the drinks) and eventually, I came to the part to where I told the guy he was (second faux paux) out of my league.  However, I don't regret it.  In fact, I thought he was.   
   I couldn't understand why it was me that he spoke with.  I didn't get why he had taking a liking to me! I couldn't fathom it! In many ways, I end up feeling that I have a different personality online in comparison to actually meeting the person. I tend to be a bit more reserved in person. Online, I was witty and had the ability to hide behind my laptop and say whatever I wanted to say.  He couldn't see me or do anything to me.  The only thing he could have done was close his magical chat window.   We get to meeting, and I froze.  I was not the normal me. I was back in the box and shut it closed. The sangria opened it up slightly.  Because of the sangria, the box had fell to the side and opened in a ditch of filthy waters.
    If I could apologize, I would.  In fact, I tried but I'm sure I scared him off.  By the way, I'm really good at scaring people off.  You will see.  No worries, I am not perfect, in fact, I'm far from it (if you weren't able to tell by my horrible grammar already).
  So this is to you Mr. You're Out of My League.  I am sorry.  I am sorry for hiding and allowing alcohol have me open up on the wrong side of the murky waters.  I am sorry for having one too many sangrias (freaking silent killer, it's like effing venom!). I am also sorry for making you feel uncomfortable by telling you that you were out of my league.  If I was in your situation, I would...well, I would tell me off and tell me how ridiculous I am. 
  However, you are very cute.  I thought I should throw that in.  In fact, your eyes mesmerize me. You are also very smart, funny, a gentleman, hospitable, and your vocabulary tantalized my mind because I didn't think Arab men had the ability to be articulate.   

WHAT? I'm sure he'll never read this...and if he does, well then he does.  That's life folks.

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See people, no one is perfect. In fact, I am far from it.

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From all this, what did I learn?  I learned that white people are incognito in the form of Arabs, hornballs exist everywhere in all cultures (in fact, I knew this from before), Jesus lovers are attracted to what they cannot have, The Mistake is now on the "to do" list of life, and stalkers are much better when they don't know where you live.  Also, I need to cool down with the lack of confidence.  There is more that meets the eye.  I'll admit, when one lacks confidence, it is a turn off.  Although, so is over confidence.  Really, conceited is the better terminology. 

Not so lucky of a mat here.