“I’m about to talk to a guy named Ken on OkCupid. I know one super-rad Ken (your husband), and one super-douche Ken. So I’m going into this with mixed expectations.
“I guess there was also Ken from Barbie and Ken, but he always struck me as kind of a tool who was trying to hold Barbie back. Plus he had no penis, which sort of defeats…I’d say 33% of the purpose of me dating in the first place.
“Actually, he also had no tongue, and probably gave really shitty hugs with those unbending arms. And couldn’t have made any sexy-man-noises when I did something pleasant to the blank canvas where his dick should be. And overall he seemed fairly disagreeable to be pressed against…
“Wait, what was my point?
“OH. Right. KEN.I hope this Ken is not a Ken of the genus Superdouchus. I don’t need him to be a husband, just not a super-douche.
“P.S. I feel like Ken Burns maybe makes up for Barbie’s Ken. So perhaps balance in the Ken Universe is restored.”
I checked out the profile of the OkCupid guy I wrote about earlier, and I’m not interested, so the name thing won’t even be an issue. (If I met anyone cool, I’d likely get over a name pretty quickly.)
Weirdness factor, though: In his profile, the OkCupid guy linked to his Goodreads page. I clicked it, and it took me directly to a Goodreads page that asked me to accept a friend request from him. I didn’t know that was a thing. I declined the request, but then noticed it also had him “following” my reviews, which I also didn’t know was a thing. So I went to find who else follows my reviews — and it’s him and That Guy, plus two other people I don’t know.
I don’t write reviews, so it’s not as if there’s anything to follow, but I locked down my Goodreads, anyway.
I’m almost positive That Guy friend-requested me on Goodreads a million years ago, and when I declined, Goodreads automatically did the “follow” without him even realizing; he’s likely never noticed because I don’t post anything there. So I’m not implying that he’s, like, stalking my reading list — that would be dumb. The sequence of events was just freaky.
I never mentioned that Elbows Guy had the same name as my ex.
But let’s say my ex’s name is John — Elbows Guy was a grown-ass man who chose to go by “Johnny.” That was enough of a departure to clear him for a first date, but in hindsight I don’t know what I was thinking. Moaning “Johnny” in bed was not gonna work for me, just generally. But also, my ex’s family called him Johnny when he was a kid, and occasionally as an adult at family gatherings. So in any sexual context, Johnny has “ick” all over it. (Johnny Castle notwithstanding.)
So of course today I get a nice enough first message from a different OkCupid guy, and I’m thinking, “Huh. This is pretty good, I’ll probably respond,” but then toward the end he says, “By the way, my name’s ‘That Guy.'”*
Of course it fucking is.
I gotta stop screwing around with guys with common names. Next guy I get naked with has to be named, like…Moonbeam.
*If you’ve just followed recently, That Guy is the pseudonym I assigned to a guy who hurt me pretty badly, and when I used to talk to friends about him, they’d be like, “Oh, THAT guy…”