There’s a phenomenon that happens during online dating, word of mouth dating and pretty much any type of dating where I’m not meeting them face-2-face in person during the round one bout. When hundreds of profiles are available at your fingertips, it’s common to sift through them like resumes — searching for accomplishments and passing judgement based on skill + qualifications. But if you’ve ever been on the hiring side of a job interview, candidates can be “good on paper” and bad in person.

I’ve met boys that go out of their way to tell me they’re “good on paper”. What is that suppose to mean?!? Is he trying to advertise his above average 5th grade reading level? Or is he telling me that he no longer lives with his parents? I can’t help but think that he’s actually looking for a gold-digger, but then becomes sufficiently miffed when the goldfish eats him out of house & home.

Boys tell me that padded bras are the devil’s incarnate because it amounts to a whole lot of false advertising. I hate false advertising too — there’s only so much guesstimating a girl can do with her hands.

I’m coming out of a wine bar in SOMA on a nothing special kinda Friday night. Heavy footsteps echo behind me so I quicken my pace. As I wait for the light to change, I hear a voice:

Him: Filipino women are very beautiful.

Me: That’s nice…if I was Filipino.

Him: Ahh…well…mixed race women as well…

I’m entertained at his faux pas, and let him continue to shove his foot in his mouth.

Him: Are you a racer?

Me: No, I just pretend to be one sometimes, for fun.

Him: Oh well…I was asking because my friend is an Indy 500 racer. I attended this past year and sat in the $10,000 box. I also own property nearby, but I’m renting right now in Walnut Creek because I haven’t found new renters in this economy…I sell real estate for a living, it’s quite lucrative with all the foreign money from other countries.

I hold back the eye-roll moment at the explicit mention of a big number, high-roller lifestyle. My pause in conversation signals to him that he’s slowly drowning. He whips out the big guns:

Him: You know…you’re very beautiful.

Me: Thank You.

It’s difficult to purposely not smile when any slice of bread tells you that you’re beautiful. I know it’s generic, but they’re still magical words — effective when used once and insincere when used repeatedly.

Him: Do you have a boyfriend?

Me: I’m in between boyfriends at the moment.

Him: May I have your number?

Me: Another time.

Him: I sense you’re getting cold feet?

I examine my own breath, as I exhale deeply into the air:

Me: It’s a very cold night.

Him: I respect and understand your decision. It’s been wonderful chatting with you…

Even douchey lifestyle-dropping not-right-for-me bread can be respectful. I had no idea the two could mutually coexist.

It’s kinda interesting that eHarmony.com makes you take a gigantic personality profile test. I think it’s a fabulous idea to know what makes you tick before trying to find your better half. Recently, I had to take a personality test for work and I’ve been reading about myself for the past two weeks non-stop because it’s surprisingly accurate.

Apparently, I’m rare — 2-5% of the population kinda rare. I’m also a natural born leader (i.e. I have bigger balls than you do) with all the suave + charm of a cult leader. But in my defense, the people of Rome loved Julius Caeser! He used his power to make Rome a prosperous, open, and trustworthy place to live — that’s exactly what I do in relationships.

But then I noticed a very odd trend in my personality profile. Of the 10 notable personalities that I fall in line with, only two are women. One is a lesbian, and the other took various stands against her own sex. I’ve been told that I’m intimidating by both boys + girls. It’s because I’m not afraid to bite and most people don’t really want to date someone that intimidates them. So, unless I want to go into the dominatrix business, I’m screwed. Wait. On second thought, I wouldn’t even be screwed properly IF I was a dominatrix because it’s all about keeping the slave an arm’s distance away.

And in case you were wondering, if you’re breaking skin when biting you’re doing it all wrong.