Another Disastrous Dating Profile, Part II: “I like to do classy stuff” & Proposed Male Prostitution

Editoriam de Moratorium Simon Augustine’s shameful dating profile, actually posted at various times and in various stages on the Official Internet, continued without ado from Part I:

I usually like to do real classy stuff on a first date, like play a few holes of miniature golf or go to a carnival where they have games where you have to knock over bottles and I can win a big penguin for you or something. I think amusement parks and haunted houses are really cool and romantic, and ferris wheels too. Once in while a traveling show comes through town, and for two bits you can see the Tent of Freaks or a burlesque revue. The last one I went to, with Janine, my last girlfriend, had this exhibition called "Hall of Math Geeks" and all these really smart guys from MIT and stuff were like lined up, and you could ask them what day of the week it was when you were born, or what 334 times 557 equals, and they would know right away. One guy could guess the weight of Janine’s breasts in kilograms. He was right -.971! She’s was – is – a pretty respectable C, and that’s one of the reasons I think that I really cared for her and we got along along so well (until she joined the Angels and went on the road. And I’m not talking about the baseball team.)

There is a keen malt shop near where I live in Somerville, and sometimes by the second date, we can go for a banana split or a shake with two straws. Kind of like that really hot scene in "Lady and The Tramp" when those two dogs are eating spaghetti, except we’d be doin’ it with straws and a milkshake. By the third date, if we’re hot and heavy, I might let you wear my letter jacket or my pledge pin. Usually letters on your jacket are for sports, but mine is not because I’m not such a strong swimmer or runner or jumper. Mine is a "D," because I lettered in Developmental Psychology in grad school. I was like a hero to the those people.

To impress you I like to go to super fancy places on a first or second date, like Martha’s Cabinet or The La Fite Marmeau Rothschild on Newbury or that night-spot "Sutra," which is this ultra-trendy bar/club downtown that uses a lot of neon and plastic. It’s cool cause you order your drinks through an intercom that is built right into the table, and they have inter-bar GPS.

Because I am a practicing feminist, though, I don’t want to be with any woman who is not enlightened enough so that she actually wants me to pay for her. If you did want me to pony up, I don’t think I could respect you in the morning. I like women who have a sense of who they are, where they’re going, what their scene is – you know, independent types who listen to Avril Lavigne or Joni Mitchell and refust to wear bras most of the time. In fact, I woud expect you to pay for the first couple of expensive meals, because for so many years in America men and women have been repressed by patriarchal schematas of financial hierarchy, and men were expected to pay. So if you pick up the tab the first 4 or 5 times, it’s kind of like reparations for the male species.

I’m half-Jewish, and as many people know, Jews feel love (and lust) mostly in their stomach and bowels. Only goyim get "butterflies." The things in my tummy are more like pterodactyls: so if I begin to get pale and nauseous, or even dry-heave a little, take it as a compliment.

Times are pretty tough nowadays, so I can’t continue to do this whole dating thing without some kind of financial renumeration for myself in the bargain. I don’t know if you have heard of The Boyfriend Experience, or BFE, (also sometimes known as a Mail Order Man.) This is a service I am offering to you, brought here especially for you, on

this very profile, right here now before you on your reading table: I can take you out, wine and dine you, and do all of the things a really good boyfriend would do, but stuff that most men are typically incapable of, such as listening to you for more than 5 minutes at a time without needing to feign interest or stab themselves with a kitchen knife, blowing in your ear (remember that technique, ladies out there over 55?), talking to you about Vanessa Redgrave’s career in films and activism, or about Maya Angelou, or Proulx somebody, and that broad who wrote Brokeback Mountain (which was robbed of Best Picture by the way), or flowers or gardening, or thread-count, or potpourri, or Nancy Friday, etc.

I am conversant and fluent in: interpersonal journeys, emotional walls you are trying to break through, your parents semi-alcoholism, Jungian psychology, re-birth therapy, encounter group therapy, naked Reiki, WASP theory, naked water-Reiki, Flaubert Massage, multiple orgasm issues, Freudian transference, family dynamics, Euclidean geometry, conversational Jewish colloquialisms, Jewish comedians, Jewish men who love WASPs, black comedians, gay film actors who you may not know are gay, polymorphous perversity, role-playing, role playing games like D and D or World of The Warlords, the water-method, foreign entities possession, foreign accents, infinite regression therapy, prayer circles, Druidic sex rituals, Tantra, stuffed animal exploration, Italian-American hand gestures, tongue-bathing, infantalism fantasy, snot cabaret, multiple-personality stimulation, stalking daydreams, and German filth parade. I have an encyclopedic knowledge of cinema, rock and roll genres (excluding bad New Wave or techno) and blues music. I can also diagnose you to see if you may have "the blues." I can hold my own in any discussion of Buddhism, classical music that has been in movies or TV commercials, opera singers named Pavoratti or Maria Callas, humanist psychologists named Carl Rogers or Abraham Maslow, poetry, graphic novels, the history of abandoned mental asylums, and Star Trek (the original, the first four movies, and the last movie, not TNG, alas.) Also, I don’t want to brag, but recently I learned about precisely where the G-Spot is, it’s like in and up and around-over that little ledge in you and stuff – I’ve seen diagrams, and even though I’ve only found about this in the last year or so, and I’m long into my thirties, I am really looking forward to trying this out.

I can make you laugh, and feel like a giddy schoolgirl, and like a truly special person, even if you are in reality not so. For a limited time, 3 hours of my time can be had for $25, but let me make clear that this exchange of currency in no way indicates a suggestion or promise or contract for sexual intercourse, or any exchange of fluids or sexual contact of any kind – including oral, manual, or butterfly kisses. I AM willing to barter our exchange instead of receiving funds (through PayPal, see disclosures below), in such cases that you may want to trade art, or patchwork, or DVDs, or canned food, old issues of Heavy Metal, or even if you are from Lithuania or some place like that, livestock including smallish pigs, rabbits, and goats. In the case of rabbits, I will need info on how to skin them and make stew, because I have no rabbit cookbooks.
 

To Be Continued in Part 3…  Next: Guess which personality I am!

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