Dating LDS Girls

I HATE DATING LDS GIRLS. I think there is something wrong with them, or at least the ones I date. I readily admit I am superficial when it comes to girls and probably more so than most. Looks are the first thing that attracts me to a girl and then they either get more attractive or less as I get to know them. There has to be that initial attraction though. It doesn't mysteriously sprout after I get to know them. I think I am reasonably attractive, okay modesty aside, I think I'm good looking. Not movie star or model good looking, just better than average. That coupled with my personality makes me dangerous. Side note: Either by inspiration or sources unknown, my parents strongly considered making my middle name danger. Okay I made that up. That concludes the fiction portion of the posting. Back to the regularly scheduled program.

Going for the hot ones elicits problems. Especially in a singles ward where the pickings are less than slim. Anorexic. Olsen sister thin. Posh Spice. Sparse. You get the idea. These girls have been hit on ad nausea. This must make them feel they're something more than they are, which is a huge turn off to me, but to not date them leaves me with negative selections. Most of the time I take my chances with the mindset that my charm will disarm 'bitch mode' to a more palatable 'charmed mode'. Beauty does not absolve a hot girl from being a bitch. I don't care what state you reside in. Most, not all, need to be informed of this. Beauty shouldn't be directly proportional to bitchism or lamism (pronounced lame-ism). Both serious diseases. Anyways, I get excited to go out with them only to be incessantly bombarded with contemplations of faking an injury while on the date so I can go home and watch paint dry alone, sober and with no lights on. Most of the time it's that painful. They are patently boring and can't keep my attention from meandering across the restaurant's scenery of women or off the butt of the waitress. Conversely, I date non-LDS girls and have a blast. Maybe because there is no pressure, who knows? Unfortunately I always have to end it with them because I want to get married in the temple and that's not something I'm willing to concede.

Recently my frustration reached a new zenith and the only outlet I had readily available was a girl I had just gone on a date with that was being weird and whether known or unbeknownst was pushing the correct configuration of buttons to incite explode mode. Poor soul. Explode Mode E is pretty elusive and only appears to prevent internal meltdown. Explode Mode E is the direct result of many experiences and frustrations culminating into a catastrophe. It takes a lot to elevate me to this level. When I am mad my tongue transforms into a weapon. I skip the part where you initially brandish it as a warning and instead go straightway to viciously, tactfully, willfully using it to inflict maximum harm until my full fury is spent. The jugular is not my target because it would take a while for someone to bleed out that way. I go for the heart. My tongue knows no boundaries and ruthlessly, efficiently puts people in the place I think they should be in. Horrible quality I know. The fury is short but potent and highly concentrated. Its repercussions and fallout are felt long after. I always apologize after but don't get the chance most often because I hurt feelings people never knew they had. I used to want to be a lawyer. I decided against it when I realized that I would render all other attorneys obsolete after they faced me and I would have no work. Teasing. Many people might thank me though.

Anyway, this poor girl received the full brunt of my recent dating wrath. It felt good to tell her off. I have since apologized. This little episode has left me desensitized and without feeling when it comes to dating. I believe I will take a long sabbatical from it. Maybe even retire, although I pictured retiring from dating for another reason. Marriage, so elusive and obscure. An intangible, foreign concept. I'm kinda ambivalent about it right now. I'll take it when it comes. I just want to find a cool girl to hang out with for now. I say all this and then get a phone call from a different girl. Now I am going to watch a movie with her at my house. Stupid Gemini in me. I should be a girl because of the frequency with which I change my mind. I am a dork, I know. It doesn't make sense to me either. My apologies for the novel. I'll reimburse you for the box of Kleenex for boring you to tears. I'm sure you now feel more qualified to go about your daily business knowing my thoughts on this matter. You're welcome.