Vol. 2, Post #80 Dear Kevin

An open letter to the men online who use the word "sexy." My weekly love tips for girls* (*girls who are holding on to mid-life by a thread). A dating odyssey for Young Olds, (people with readers).

I was sitting with a friend last night, a Young Old who is newly on Bumble — or, as she refers to it: “Humble” — and we were looking over her various “likes.”

In addition to one or two characters that I had also stumbled onto when I was dicking around online on Hinge, there was, of course, the usual suspect who got real sexxxxxxxy in their chat, far too soon. I suspect he thought my friend would be titillated. Instead, she and I were smirking and saying “Ew!” Men, pay attention to what I’m about to tell you.

I can’t speak for ALL women, but I’ll speak for the majority of the single Young Old Women that I know — women who enjoy sex, intimacy, risk taking (in and out of bed) and clear, direct communication — and ALL of these women? They don’t find overly sexy chat super early on anything other than what it is: Semi-lame. And quite frankly? Probably covering up some sort of weird sex hang up or desperation on the guy’s part. Sorry, but that’s how it is.

With that in mind, I have penned a universal letter to men active in online dating sites below. Feel free to copy and paste at will if YOU, Dear Reader, receive a message in your chats with a potential date that makes you just EYE ROLL the fuck out of your mind.

Dear Kevin (I have no idea why I’m picking that name),

Thanks for what I’m sure is your version of a lovely compliment. I appreciate being told that I am attractive. Don’t we all? But I need to stop The Erection Express before you drive it home any further and tell you that I really dislike it when men I don’t know start talking to me about how sexy I am.

If you’ve received this message, we are clearly in the Purgatory of pre-gaming dating chat, after making a “match” online, most likely in advance of exchanging phone numbers and moving to a text or a call ahead of meeting in person. If you’re like me, Kevin, this is a time when I sort of sit back and observe what kinds of questions you are asking me, about my profile, or about whatever vibe you’re getting from me. It’s not — I repeat, IT IS NOT — your moment to tell me how sexy I look in a photo (unless I’m doing something like public masturbation or co-starring in a Cardi B. video, which, I am not).

Here are other words/phrases you can use in lieu of sexy, if you need to pay me a compliment this early on (which, by the way, you do not need to do in order to keep me interested — all you need to do is be engaged. I don’t know you and I’m not touching myself and pretending it’s you making me moan at this juncture). You can refer to me as:

• Smart

• Funny

• Pretty

• Gorgeous

• Sparkling/ebullient

• On fire (if I’m doing something cool in the photo) and I’ll even allow a stupid fucking fire emoji with this, oy

• Like a boss

• Captivating (enchanting is good too but I’m not holding my breath that a straight guy is going there)

See what I mean? My dating profile, which I’ve carefully crafted, Kevin, is meant to showcase me as a whole person. Not just a vagina in which you’d like to thrust your rock-hard, 13-inch uncut cock.

Don’t misunderstand me. OF COURSE I’d love to know, after we chat some more, or better yet, after we MEET, that you want to hold my hand, look in my eyes deeply, kiss me, think I’m sexy. But that moment is not now, Kevin.

So when you focus on the “sexy” thing I’m doing in my profile photos, it makes me think, “Hmmm, does this guy not ‘get’ women?”

Now, Kevin, before you say, “But wait a minute! You’re posing in a bathing suit! You’re posing while you are lying in bed! That makes me think of sex! That makes me think you’re down to fuck,” let me give you some more insight.

Maybe I’m posing in a bathing suit because EVERYONE ON GOD’S GREEN EARTH knows that if I were posing in a ski jacket and wooly hat on the slopes, I’d hear a near constant refrain of “I can’t really see what you look like,” which actually means, “I’d enjoy a clearer shot of your tits and ass.” Fine, have that clearer shot. If I’m bold enough to post a photo of me in a bikini, it’s because I’m comfortable with my body and hope that makes you understand that I’m the kind of woman who is moving into middle age (or beyond) with a certain gravitas that YES, can be sexy. But how about you THINK that, Kevin, not comment on it right out of the gate?

And related, if I’m posing in bed (and again, not surrounded by lube or sex toys or the like), it’s probably to show you how I like to relax or how I look when I’m truly “off duty.” My pal Abbe here, writing this Substack, used to like to post this photo of her on her profile, in which she’s wearing flannel pajamas and no makeup, with a caption that read: “What you see is what you get.” Is that a provocative photo? Maybe. But her ex B. told her that it was the photo he liked best of her, because of her eyes (and she believed him, so stop laughing and take your hand off of your dick while you’re at it).

Kevin, my point being? If we’re in that initial chat phase and are (OK, sort of lamely or maybe tamely) discussing things like where you went to law school or why I moved to upstate New York or how even our grown kids can be assholes sometimes, it sometimes startles me in not-a-great way when you introduce how “sexy” I look in my photos if we’ve never met.

And while we’re at it, Kevin? Do you know what skeeves me out COMPLETELY? When you think you’re being sassy and make a joke about how we must have met before, because I look so familiar, and then, need to ask in jest, “Did we sleep together?”

It makes me need to reply, dry as dust, “If we slept together, I’m sure you’d remember.”

So, Kevin. I like you. I’d most likely want to keep chatting with you (within reason) and make a date to meet up if the chat continues to be lively and interesting. Do us both a solid and stay the course? Because if you can just keep it in your pants for a bit, I’m pretty sure that yes, my skimpy white lace panties will just be drenched with my pussy juices at the mere thought of your thick, hairy fingers unbuttoning my jeans or hiking up my skirt.

But for the moment, keep it cute, or put it on mute, as they say.
xoxoxoxo The Woman You Barely Know