Dating In The Drowning Pool

So, I got negged last night.

I realized this morning upon further consideration that, yes, it has been a while since I’ve dived this deep into the dating pool, which is why I totally forgot about that irritating male habit of negging women. *sigh* I mean, I thought that I had found a cushier side of the dating pool. In the past, I wasn’t really into screening my dates for things like jobs – I would go out with anyone who had a dick and a bad attitude. But now that I’ve gotten older, I try to avoid the slew of fuck boys that had served me so well in the past. Now I’m aiming for the type of men that my friends tell me I should date, namely men who are older than me and have jobs and cars and a place to live. I’m not opposed to trying new things, so I’ve been pretty committed to pursuing the type of men that my friends think are worth my time. It’s not that I don’t trust my own judgment, it’s more that the definition of insanity is trying the same thing over and over again and expecting different results. I’m only going to get better results if I try something new. Right?

Wrong. Apparently, it’s possible for me to get worse results from a seemingly more reputable slice of the male population. Eh, I already knew this, but I was feeling optimistic, as usual. Which is why I got a drink with this “man” last night. He’s older, he has a nice car, he has a good job and money. I’m supposed to want that, right? (I mean, yeah, I do want that, but I want that for myself by myself and not because some man gave it to me. I know, I know, I’m “wanting” these things incorrectly. Or something.) So I entertained him for a bit. Mistake.

He was critical of the fact I wear a crucifix. There are a lot of reasons why I wear my crucifix, the first and foremost being that Catholicism is part of my identity. For a man to criticize the fact that I identify with a core element of my upbringing (while not adhering to its dogmatic tenets) and am not ashamed to show it to the world was, like, woah, wow, um, major red flag. Am I not allowed to have a controversial opinion? Am I not allowed to be honest with myself and those around me about how I was raised and the impact that has on me today? Let a bitch live, maybe? On the other hand, I also still admire the aesthetics of the Catholic Church, something which was iterated quite cohesively in this year’s Met exhibition, but, hey, that’s only a major New York museum, who am I to say that they’re right or wrong. Anyways, what I got from that first criticism is that he wasn’t interested in me, myself or how I identify. Cool.

Look, I’m not here to defend the Catholic Church. It’s basically just an international pedophilia ring, and it’s also one of the prime proponents of Western misogyny, so, no, not my favorite thing. But after having escaped that mind fuck cult, I’d definitely appreciate it if the atheists weren’t total assholes about my residual commitment to the dilution of Catholic iconography. Ugh.

But enough about the Catholic Church because it sucks and I’m not letting it hijack this blog post. Back to the date. Basically, anyone who knows me knows that I dress pretty flamboyantly in nice designer shit, so the fact that this guy honed in on my necklace as a topic of conversation rather than complimenting any of the other very nice things I had on was just like, yo, come on dude. Honey, not vinegar. I read The Game and I know how this works, which is why I don’t entertain anyone who negs me. Genuine compliments or gtfo. Because as I sat there engaging in that tedium, I realized, “Damn, I don’t give a fuck about his opinion.” Which is what negging does for me: makes me realize, no, I don’t care about this man or what he thinks or what he has to say, so, see ya. It would be one thing if a friend whom I loved and had known for years had something critical to say about what I was wearing – I would listen to them because we have built a rapport of trust and mutual admiration over the years, and part of that trust includes respecting their opinions. But some random man in the bar? No. No respect for you.

Whatever happened to manners. Or is this some weird residual call out culture bullshit. Or is this just men trying to be edgy and have opinions so that they appear smart and other worldly. Cuz it ain’t working. Although, no, it is working in making me realize: this is fucking annoying, I can’t believe this person makes more money than me, I think I need to try harder at work so I can have at least as much if not more social clout and real capital as this guy so I can go around being nice and generous with people. Y’know, for the culture.

Until then, I’m not sure if I’ll keep taking my friends’ advice on how to date in 2018. I mean, whatever, I start my pussy eating lessons next week so, who knows, maybe this is just a swan song.

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