I’m not laid-back…unless you lay me back. Hey-o!

A man sent me an intro message on OkCupid that said, “I can tell from your profile that you’re very laid back, which I like in a woman.”

Um… no, I’m totally not.

The insanely thorough profile doesn’t really scream “Cool Girl,” does it? How’d you arrive at that? Show your work.

Also, when you say you like “laid-back” women, I’m reading that you like women who won’t bug you too much, because “BITCHES, man, amirite?”

NOPE. I don’t care about things some men seem to assume all women do. I won’t try to make you watch The Notebook or come to my yoga class or go shopping with me. (I’d actually prefer you didn’t.) But you’ll definitely know when something’s important to me. An ex of mine said I “hint with a hammer” — subtlety isn’t really my deal.

I also drink too much coffee and take a crack-based drug for ADD, so I’m almost always jittery. Plus I have massive trust issues, and assume fight stance quick when I think someone’s testing them — my brain basically turns into River Tam toward the end of Serenity, beating the shit out of the Reavers.

I am high-the-fuck-strung, sir.

Again, George Carlin says it better: “I’m not ‘laid-back,’ and I’m certainly not ‘mellow.’ I associate those qualities with the comatose. The solar system wasn’t formed because matter was laid-back; life didn’t arise from the oceans and humans descend from the trees because DNA was mellow. It happened because of something called ENERGY.”

Elbows Guy III: The Reckoning

As I mentioned, Elbows Guy emailed me back after I’d told him his comment bugged me.

Here’s what I’d said, between other things we’d been discussing, one of which was a second date:
“You tell me if you end up free Tuesday, and I’ll tell you if my ashen elbows and I can join you. Sound good? (Can you tell I took that far too seriously and now wonder if you’re a. Mean, or b. Will think/say things about the rest of my body if ever you see it?) :)”

His response, also among other topics:
“You definitely are reading too much into the elbows thing. It was just a simple observation since your skin is really soft and your elbows were a little rougher (I suspect from resting them on your desk while in hardcore writing mode). It’s the little details like that which I find fascinating in people, especially women, since they usually have a story to tell.

“Your (a) vs (b) question is actually the same question – ‘is this guy a judgey asshat who’s going to make fun of me and my quirks in order to make up for his own insecurities and fragile ego?’ And the answer to that is no. I have a very thick skin and will occasionally say something without thinking how someone not similarly thick-skinned will take it, but I’m not a judgey asshat. I have a sneaking suspicion that was not the case with one or more of the guys you have recently dated.”

Ahem…

1. I pay a nice lady to be my therapist. I don’t need you and your degree from the Lifetime Movie School of Emotional Trauma.

2. I HAVE projected from previous men I’ve known, but I’m usually self-aware enough to recognize it. (Like when you called me “Miss” the other day and my brain spasmed because that’s what That Guy called all the faceless, interchangeable women in his harem — THAT was projecting. I knew it, and I shut it down.)

3. I don’t lean on my desk while I’m writing. My elbows are just shitty. (And way to double down on telling me so.)

4. “I’m not a judgey asshat, but I’m gonna point out your faulty sentence construction.” (I know he’s right. Shut up.)

Sometimes my brain goes all River-Tam-batshit-banana-pants-at-the-end-of-Serenity swinging weapons around in a circle to fight off whoever comes near her. Whenever I’ve stuck that feeling out because, “I might be overreacting,” I really can’t remember a time my brain was wrong.