Unexpected Dealbreakers

I may have mentioned recently that I am back on Plentyoffish, the online dating site for the poor, lazy, and uninspired. If you haven't heard the details already, basically the gist is that the Gentleman Caller got a job in the wild North and we had to go our separate ways : ( But, onward and upward I always say, like the baller that I am. That means going shopping for new man candies. It's been a while since I've been on POF, but it seems even more pathetic than the first couple times around. I guess it couldn't have been that bad, since I landed three very decent men from that giant and mostly questionable ocean over the course of about eight months.

Awww.

But man-shopping online is not unlike clothes-shopping online. You have to sift through a lot of crap to find something that you like, it's impossible to know what it's really like until you try it on, and it may not end up being that great of a deal after shipping and processing...wait I think I lost track of the analogy. Anyway, my brain has created some shortcuts to eliminate the unsuitable while clicking through the "Do You Want to Meet This Person?" Gallery. I've already written about how my standards for men are not that high. But this process has made me realize that while some of the guys I find myself attracted to are not prize stallions by any means, I do have some rather strange and specific deal breakers. I will list them now:

This rarely happens. And when it does, it's just creepy.

• Proximity. I refuse to commute longer than 30 minutes for a date. Even then, 30 is pushing it.
• Age. I originally had my search parameters set for men ages 21-35. Realistically, it's more like 24-30. It seems so arbitrary, and yet I find myself instantly clicking next if a guy just happens to fall outside of that range. 
• 420-Friendly. I'm in favor of legalization, don't get me wrong. In fact, it's one of the few political issues I actually care about. But marijuana smells gross and the few times I tried it back in the day, I hated the way it made my head feel like a helium balloon escaping my body. It's just not my jam, fellas. 
• Gym rats. I know I've become a gym rat lately (in fact, I just got back from the gym myself). And I find myself loving the way it makes me feel and how it gives me something to do when I'm bored. But if someone lists "going to the gym" or "working out" or god forbid, "working on my fitness" (true story) as one of their hobbies, that's a NOPE! To me, it seems so vain and pointless to spend hours upon hours at the gym, either scamming on chicks or overcompensating for a small penis with large biceps. It also seems like the guy version of saying, "I'm desperate!" And yet it seems to be one of the most prevailing trends on POF.

Bums. Me. Out.

• Pictures with iPhones taken in the bathroom. This often goes hand in hand with the previous offense. It just bums me out. Especially if they're posing with their shirt off or lifted or showing off the aforementioned biceps.
• UFC Fans. They usually go hand in hand in hand with Gym rats and bathroom photo-takers. To me, that just screams DOUCHE ALERT!!!
• Pictures with other people, especially girls and/or children. Sure, every guy says the girl in the photo is just a sister or a friend. BS. At least have the decency to crop her out. And if it's a picture of you and your buddies, crop them out too so I know which one you are! And even if the kid is your niece or nephew, they have no business being on POF.
• Bad spelling or grammar. This is the biggest one behind proximity. I'm sorry, but it's an instant turn-off if you use 'u' instead of 'you' or write poorly spelled words in all caps and/or refuse to use the correct punctuation marks or any at all. I know this makes me sound like a grammar nazi school teacher, but this is important to me. It just shows that you're either lazy and/or an idiot. And I'm interested in neither.

Nope.

• Religion. I guess this isn't an instant deal breaker, but one of the first stats POF lists is a person's religion. And I just could never be with a Jesus Freak or the equivalent in another faith. It's a sensitive subject for me.  I'd hate to be with someone who couldn't share that passion with me at best, or at worst would always try to convert me. And that's not fair to either of us. 
• Height. To be honest, a guy has to be over 5'10'' to date me. And every inch over 6' gets major points. Super stupid and unfair, I know, just like the age thing. But I never claimed this list was especially rational.
• Country music. It is a well-documented fact that I HATE country music and could never understand someone who liked it. (Though to be honest, I did break this cardinal rule for the Gentleman Caller. He also had a white truck, which I swore to myself I would never the owner of a white truck. Fail, Hutch. Fail.)

There's actually a lot more, but I think I'll stop here. Eleven is a nice non-round number. I actually made a whole other list of pet peeves that occur whilst you're interacting with another fish. But that deserved its own blog.

Why I Loathe Country Music

I recently found out that one of the head honchos from my corporate office loves country music. This is the last guy you would ever think would rock Taylor Swift on Pandora in a crowded office and not feel one ounce of shame. One of my other bosses is also a closet redneck, to the point that his ringback tone is chock full of hee haw pride that I can never get out of my head whenever I call him ("I'm a lifetime sponsor of the FFA," Damn! Every time!). Even my girls in the Sally Tomatoes, who are educated, sophisticated, and classy broads all seem waaaaay too down with Carrie Underwood and the Dixie Chicks. Whenever we karaoke (which is often), one of them inevitably busts out the honky tonk, and they all sing along robustly whilst I sit sullenly by, nursing my vodka tonic.

This is not OK.

I need this shirt.

Country music is the scourge of the earth. I have very eclectic taste in music (other than hard core gangsta rap that doesn't even have a catchy hook you can sing along to and just kind of mumble and make up the words in between). But I cannot abide country music. Here are the reasons why:

1. I'm dead sick of it. When I worked at the grocery store in my sort-of hometown of Foresthill, CA (which is just about as hillbilly as you can get without the accent), I had to listen to nothing but contemporary country music over and over and over and over again. Seriously, my ears were bleeding after only a few months. The job itself wasn't terrible. But the music made it unbearable. To this day, I can't hear it without cringing.

Oh Wortons. Not-so-good times. And even worse music.

2. It's pandering to the sap in all of us. If I had a nickel for every time I started accidentally tearing up at some sickly sweet country song about some kid with a sick mother, or cheaply invoking 9-11, or a daddy singing lullabies to his daughter, or an couple growing old together and reminiscing about the good old days, I'd have MANY NICKELS! What's worse is that I know exactly how they're manipulating my emotions and yet it's working anyway. Damn them! The worst offenders: "Christmas Shoes," "Butterfly Kisses," "Oklahoma," and "Remember When." The only pandering song I secretly like, "Don't Take the Girl." But only because it reminds me of roller skating when I was eight years old. Not sure why.

Damn you Alan Jackson, making my parents tear up whenever they hear your song.

3. Steel guitars. There's something about the twang of a steel guitar that just drives me absolutely batty. I realized that it's racist against a guitar that can't help the way it sounds. But it just has a connotation of everything I loathe about country music that I throw up a little in my mouth whenever I hear one.

Poor, misunderstood instrument.

4. Redneck pride. There is nothing cool about being a redneck. Having gone to school grades 5th through 12th and being surrounded by a large population of them, I can say this from experience. Uber-tight pants, ugly cowboy boots, giant-ass belt buckles, and tucked-in t-shirts, do not spell sexy. So to musically boast about being one of these sad creatures is just unfathomable.

This man represents everything that is wrong with America.

5. Property damage. This namely applies to one particular song that always pops up on karaoke night. "Before He Cheats," by Carrie Underwood. Yes I understand that it's supposed to be the anthem of the wronged Southern woman. Designed to make girls who have been scorned feel some sort of cathartic, vicarious vindication. But all I can feel when I listen to the tale of this angry woman beating the shit out of a guy's expensive, souped up car, just pisses me off. Who is going to pay for that damage? And why are we encouraging women to inflict costly destruction when a man strays? This is not a healthy outlet and I do NOT support this song, no matter how catchy it is.

I sure hope she is willing to fork over for her night of vehicular massacre.

6. The lyrics. Who writes this shit? I know that not all lyrics are golden, but the worst ones seem to stem exclusively from country music.

That's just too many sequins for one little girl.

7. Taylor Swift. I know she's America's sweetheart, but I think she's the devil in a sparkly cocktail dress. She seems like a nice girl. But her music is terrible. And I saw her on Saturday Night Live before I had ever heard her music, and she was god awful live. (Though, to be fair, 97% of the performers on SNL are terrible live). Her stupid sparkly guitar and her middle-school lyrics and raccoon eyes. Ok, so I admit that she's secretly a guilty pleasure. But I refuse to ever download her music or openly admit that I've rocked out to "You Belong to Me" on Stan's speakers when no one can hear me. And I hate myself for it.

Oh Billy Ray. With a name like that, you never had a chance.

8. Mullets. Enough said.

I'm sure there are more, but I just had a large, fruity and delicious cocktail and my brain is feeling delightfully fuzzy. Let's just say, I effing HATE country music.