Rounding Up the Dickheads

When you start asking people if they are high, and you actually *mean it*, it's time to cut off communication with those people. Following, please find a mildly entertaining story regarding another dork I met online. (For those of you playing along at home, please do NOT add this one to the flowchart, as he's not worth the effort even to format it properly.)

I met this particular dork on the previously mentioned website, and we exchanged emails for a couple of weeks. He seemed nice, not in Indianapolis (which is good for now), and like an educated, well-employed adult. So, then we chat online for a couple of days -- also pleasant -- and decide to exchange phone numbers. We agree on a time to call, and he does, on time. [Sidebar: For the record, we love a guy who does what he says when he says he will do it.]

The phone rings, "Hello, Stacey. This is Dickhead. (I edited his name.)" So we exchange pleasantries for a few minutes, and then, I really can't relate any of the rest of the conversation here, because, FOR ALLISON'S SAKE, PEOPLE, he called me and wanted to talk about his penis. Whaaaa??? Before I elaborate on how much this irritated me, I'd like to point out that I'm not opposed to any of the following:

• Him having a penis.
• Him talking about his penis (to someone other than me.)
• Him touching hisveryownpersonal penis.
• Me talking to someone about his penis, provided I'm, say, in an intimate relationship with him. (DUH!)

So, you can clearly see that I'm not a prude. The word "penis" doesn't even make me blush. I'm perfectly comfortable with the clinical terms for all body parts, and most of the slang terms, too.

My point here, though, is this is what I AM opposed to:

• Chatting with a seemingly reasonable person for a couple of weeks who suddenly thinks I'm a phone sex line.
• I gave him absolutely no indication that I wanted to do any of that, and he just started in with it. (I'm approximately as subtle as fireworks, he'd have known if I were a phone sex line.)
• He called back when I hung up.

Again, I say unto you, "Whaaaaa?"

So, I tell him that I'd prefer not to talk about that, and goodbye. Which, silly me, I think warrants no more conversation. Like, ever.

Alas, I hear from him REPEATEDLY over the next few days and weeks. Emails and IMs, all very nicey-nice, I'm sorry, blah blah blah. Please give me another chance and shit. Now, I should know there is a problem here, since, as Jill Conner Browne has written so eloquently, "They generally are not thinking about you unless you're hanging off the end of their dicks." And, for the most part, unless they are REALLY FREAKIN' INTO YOU, that is just true. (Sidebar: If you are male, brilliant, and able to remember a woman who is not engaged said dangling activity, please contact me ASAP.)

Can anyone explain to me why I allowed him to have contact with me again? Weak moment, maybe? Poor past choices leaking into my present, possibly? Hormonal imbalance of some kind? Seratonin levels down? I don't know the answer, I only know that I allowed it. Chatted online with him today for a moment and motherfucker tried to talk about his penis again!

What have we learned, here, people? Allow me to sum up:

1. "I'm sorry" from a horny male means roughly, if not entirely, nothing.
2. Stupid decisions were made. By me.
3. I ADORE the "ignore" button on Yahoo! messenger.
4. I can learn from this experience.
5. Gentlemen of the species: You may want to round up and kill the dickheads among you, they're making it extraordinarily difficult for the rest of you to get even peripheral consideration.