Wednesday, May 25, 2011

I'm With Stupid

So I don't know if most ladies out there are like this, but personally I do put a lot of value on a man's intelligence.  And I'm not just saying that he happens to have an expertise in something, but I think that a Masters degree, a PhD, or having the title "Dr." before, or "Esq" after, your name is kinda hot.

It's nice to know that the man you're interested in can be both physically and mentally stimulating.  Many times I've even been turned off by men who don't have (or aren't willing to pursue) a Master's degree.  I have always thought that a man should equally as smart, if not smarter, than the girl.  

Ok, ladies relax.  We all know we're smarter, better looking, smell better and have a longer life expectancy than men.  I'm just saying that in the long run I want my children to know that both their mom and dad value education

And I also want my kids to be smart so yes, a smart man is a sexy man.

And for any of you who know my on and off obsession with industry boys, disregard.  We all like cute guys who can buy us drinks and that should never reflect negatively on anyone!

So I recently I went on a first date with what I have to consider one of the dumbest men I have met in DC thus far.  Now let's take a step back.  DC's a smart town.  Frankly a brilliant town, full of brilliant people.  Many pursuing continuing education, working in development fields, entrepreneurs (they are SUPER hot), etc.  Hell, we even got the government (State Dept, World Bank, etc) here.  Those folks have to be smart, right?

Wrong.

Enter...Let's call him Jim.  We meet up for a drink at Dirty Martini one night, and as usual the topic falls to that of work.  He rolls his eyes and use the same bullsh*t line I hear all the time in the dating scene "Jeez," (he says "Jeez") "why is that the first question out of everyone's mouth in DC? 'What do you do for a living?'"

Well, I'll tell you why.  What we do for a living consumes up to 50+ hours of our week.  I don't know about you all, but I don't even sleep that much a week.  Plus it's kinda nice to know that the persons you surround yourself with love what they do, are passionate about their careers, they have a career, or a combination of one or more of these.  Otherwise you're stuck with someone who hates their job, brings their work home, can't stop complaining and ends up bitter. 

And for the record, bitter is not sexy.

So stop complaining, and just tell me what you do for a living when I ask.

Jim proceeds to tell me that he works at this institution called the World Bank.  Have I ever heard of it?  

Have I heard of the World Bank?  Um, yes.

It just so happens that I consult with the World Bank Group myself and I ask what department he works with?  He throws out an acronym I'm not familiar with (but who can keep track right?) So I ask him what building he works in and he tells me he works in the IMF building.  "Oh, so you're in one of those dual-role departments that work for for both the IMF and the Bank?" I ask.

And he tells me that no he works for the IMF, and that is the World Bank.  

Ok, so for some people out there that don't know much about the World Bank Group or the International Monetary Fund, I get where people can get confused between the two.  But for someone who works with one of the two organizations, you should really know that they are not the same entity.  Just to clarify, I asked if he works for the IFC (International Finance Corporation, which is a member of the World Bank Group) and this is where he pisses me off.

He sloooowly, repeats "I....M....F" like I'm the one who having trouble deciphering this ambiguous relationship between the two.

Idiot.

I then gently explain to him "You know that the IMF and the World Bank are not the same organizations, don't you?"  He tries to interrupt me, but at this point I just bulldoze over his stupidity and continue to explain.  "Actually, the two are independent organizations that were founded after World War II by the United Nations.  You could say that they are sister organizations, but both have different roles.  The IMF manages currency exchange of member countries and the World Bank loans out to these.  They are similar in that a country has to be a member of the IMF in order to get financial assistance from the World Bank, but both mostly operate independently of one another."  

And that really is the abbreviate, simplest explanation.  For more information anyone can check out this link

He looks at me dumbfounded and then says "Wow, I wish they would have explained that to me like that when I started."  

I smile, sympathetically, and asked "How long have you worked there?"

"Three years," replies.

Three years?  So for three years, you've been thinking you work at the World Bank?  And you've been telling people that?  Have your colleagues are not corrected you?

Of course I didn't ask these last three questions.  I finished my coca cola, and headed home.

That was one for the books.

Men, know what you do.  And if you don't, Google it.

Friday, May 6, 2011

And Men Think We're Crazy....

So I have to apologize for my hiatus in updating this blog.  So much has happened since, but I do have to start this entry with the craziest Ok Cupid experience to date.

For a few weeks I have been chatting with a guy.  Let's call him "Z."  Just for the record Jozefina never picked this guy out.  He messaged me and Jozefina kindly approved my response and the go ahead to start corresponding.  (Yes, she even managed that aspect of the Cupid Experiment to make sure I didn't fall off the wagon and start responding to every loser who emailed.  I do that.)

After a whirlwind of new clients, two huge Earth day events and some birthdays and graduations I was finally able to schedule a date with Z.  The only day this week that I did not have plans was Thursday, May 5.  We settled on attending one of my favorite art events in DC and meeting up at 7:30pm.

The day of the date he sends me an email confirming the date, time and providing me with his digits should I need to reach him before.  Then he adds, "I read your profile again... I really like your pics and personality .. Are you very independed :)? Not sure what looking for? ... What are the options lol. Husband? Lover? Bf... Admirers?"

(Keep in mind that I have left in the grammatical errors)

I respond with "ha ha! Thanks for your number.  Here's mine.  See you later tonight.  As for what I'm looking for, I'm really not sure.  I am very independent, but that means nothing really."


As I'm leaving work I decide to meet up with the girls for a festive Cinco de Mayo margarita at Lauriol Plaza.  I send Z a text asking that he please text me when he's 15 minutes away from the venue so that I have time to get there.  His response?

Wait for it.

"Ok but you didn't answer my question :("

Really?  I mean, really really?  You didn't get from my first two responses that I am not ready to define what it is I'm looking for?  Isn't this a topic that sometimes (oftentimes) gets brought up on the first date anyway?  Why all the PRESSURE??

At this point I'm pissed.  I meet Jozefina in the corner and briefly catch her up on Z's obsession of having to know what is it I want.  I'm in the middle of sending the text when we jump into the cab.  I hit send and Jozefina asks me what I responded with.

Here goes: "I did in the email...and the text.  I don't know.  Why so much pressure?  This is just a first date.  Relax."

I read it out loud to Jozefina and she immediately scolds me for fighting with my date even before the date starts.  :)

But really.  How much can a girl take?  If the tables were turned, and I harassed my date that much before meeting, I would have him running for the hills, right?!

So now I'm stressing.  I'm stressing and I have started to consume tequila on an empty stomach.  I'm thinking about cancelling the date.  Jozefina wants to take a look a this guy's profile one more time.  We pull it up on my OK Cupid app.  (I love technology.)

Maybe there's something on there we missed?  Maybe his profile mentions an abusive childhood, or he's recently been released for some mental hospital, or that he was still sucking his mother's teat at the tender age of 14.

Something....anything...to clue us in on what's wrong with him.  We find nothing.  Regardless I'm just way too uncomfortable with the date, and I would much rather be with my girlfriends on Cinco de Mayo.  I decide to cancel.

I text him "Hey.  I have to cancel.  Very sorry, but I'm uncomfortable with our correspondence today.  Take care."  (Jozefina approved this text)

He replies "Yeah Sure!!!  Very classy last minute thnks :) I rather be upfront and honest...Read your profile a few times to know what that means I wasn't looking for sex or a wife."  (grammatical errors are all still his)

A few minutes later he sends me an OK Cupid response. "Stop stalking," he writes.  He must have noticed that we had visited his profile a few minutes before I cancelled.  Damn it!

Needless to say I had a fabulous night and quickly forgot about Z.  Now I just need to get around to blocking him on OK Cupid.