Tag Archives: match.com

Additional Headcount.

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“TRACEY,” Lux said. “Were you nice?”

“Yes, I was nice,” I said, as I opened my laptop.

“But were you POSITIVE?” She took a sip of her Starbucks. This was her third Venti of the day. And well…it showed.

“Yes Lux,” I sighed. “I was positive.”

“Did you talk about The Cat?” asked Floyd from across the conference room table.

“Oh my god,” Lux gasped. “Did you? Did you talk about The Cat?”

“No. I did not talk about The Cat.”

“Well, what was it then?” asked Lainie, as she reached for a bribery cookie. These cookies were the only way I got people to come to these meetings.

“Guys, I don’t know. He just wasn’t into me. Let’s move on.” I had gathered the members of my Social Media Marketing Team in order to brainstorm ideas on how to get a big surge of readers before our One Year Anniversary Party, which was coming up soon. Instead, all they wanted to discuss was my failure with Date Five.

Complete. Chaos.

As usual.

Continue reading Additional Headcount. →

Date Five.

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“Bud Light, huh?” he said. “That’s kind of a white-trash choice, don’t you think?”

I laughed because he was trying to be funny and also because, it’s true. But still, this innocent comment did nothing to help ease my feelings of self-consciousness.

I was way out of my league at this place.

Continue reading Date Five. →

Date Four. Part Two.

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I. Was. Trashed.

Like really trashed. Like trashed to the point where I was having to think verrrry carefully about what I was saying, so that I wouldn’t slur my words.

I am actually usually quite good about not drinking too much on dates. I always stick to a two drink limit and it’s never been a problem. But the lack of food in the past 48 hours had given me no buffer for the alcohol whatsoever. So even though I’d only had 3/4 of a vodka soda, I was a drunken mess.

Stupid juice cleanse.

Continue reading Date Four. Part Two. →

Date Four. Part One.

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“Fuck the juice cleanse!”

“Fuck the juice cleanse?”

“Yes! Fuck it!” she said, and she threateningly waved her champagne glass at me.

I looked over at Caitlyn and Marlie. “Fuck the juice cleanse?”

“Fuck it,” said Marlie, nodding.

“Yep. Fuck the juice cleanse,” Caitlyn agreed.

“Hmm,” I said, mulling this over. “Fuck the juice cleanse…”

Continue reading Date Four. Part One. →

Is It Just Me?

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Those of a certain age, you will remember in 1988 when Van Halen released the second album with Sammy Hagar as the lead singer: ‘OU812’. Now, despite what you may have thought of the album itself (I know some of you have never gotten over the loss of David Lee Roth) what was undoubtedly cool was the title. I remember thinking, “WOW. It’s letters and numbers but YOU CAN SAY IT AS A SENTENCE! WOWWOWWOW!!!!” Not a lot of bands had done that before, and this sort of short-speak was new and unique.

Now of course, it is commonplace. ‘U’ has replaced the incredibly difficult and laborious spelling of ‘you’ and thank goodness someone came up with ‘2’ as opposed to ‘to!’ I don’t know about you, but typing out that one other character to actually write the word was really bringing me down. Continue reading Is It Just Me? →

Like A Dog With A Bone.

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“What’s your idea of a great first date?”

“Geesh, I don’t know.”

“Tracey. Come on,” she replied.

I sighed to myself.

Her next IM flashed up in my inbox. “Okay, just use this template: On a first date, I enjoy discussing _____ over _____ at _____.”

“I’m busy,” I replied.

“TRACEY. COME ON.”

“DO NOT ALL-CAPS ME.”

“YOU ARE DRIVING ME CRAZY.”

“No, YOU are driving ME crazy.”

“I’m coming over.”

“Omg. Please don’t.”

No response. She was already on her way.

No doubt about it. Lux was on a mission.

Continue reading Like A Dog With A Bone. →

The Profiler.

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“Not even a bootycall?”

“Not even a bootycall.”

“So you got nothin’?”

“I got nothin’,” I said, shaking my head.

“That’s a damn shame,” said Sean, as he took a sip of his Guiness. “No one to drunk-text.”

“Nope, no one to drunk-text,” I sighed. I took a sip of my Bud Light. “Well, except My Ex, of course. I drunk-text him all the time.”

Sean gave me a look.

Continue reading The Profiler. →

Poll Results.

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“A lie is a lie is a lie,” insisted Leanne, as she tucked a lock of strawberry blonde hair behind her ear. “It’s as simple as that.”

“Okay, I get what you’re saying,” I said.  “But this is the thing. As one of the readers commented – if you meet someone out and about, you’re not going to introduce yourself and be all, ‘Hi my name is Tracey and I’m 43.'” I took a sip of Corona and then continued. “No, you’re just going to get to know them and then age comes up later. But online, you’re required to put how old you are and that automatically categorizes you, before someone even gives you a chance. And in my case, dismisses you.”

“But why would you want to even date someone your age who’s cut-off is thirty-six?” she asked.

“Hmm, that’s a good point,” I said and looked around the table. “What do you guys think?”

Continue reading Poll Results. →

Age Aint Nothin’ But a Number…? And Another Poll.

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“Ew!” I exclaimed, as I burst through the conference room door.

“What?” Archie was trying to enjoy a peaceful Bento Box lunch, away from the usual office chaos.

But I was having none of that.

“My post for tomorrow sucks!” I stared down at him, hands on hips. “It SUCKS!”

Continue reading Age Aint Nothin’ But a Number…? And Another Poll. →