ClueChick: real clues from a real chick

Hi, it's your friendly local sapiophile here, taking over briefly for the esteemed 'Chick while she's on vacation.

I've been on a tear in Craigslist recently which has given me a chance to accumulate some real gems of CL bad ideas!

Let us say your email exchanges have gotten you as far as meeting me for coffee, or maybe even into your apartment, and you want some tips on what to do next? You might want to avoid:

- taking a mobile phone call while we are together. Maybe just turn it off before we meet and turn it back on we part. If some call comes in that is really life or death critical, consider making it minimally short instead of chatting, okay?

- going dutch. Well, okay, fine, we can split the bill on lunch if we must...doesn't win you any points but doesn't lose you any either. Unless, after I've ordered my meal, you order yours and an expensive appetizer to share, without asking me. In which case, sorry, you are now obligated to pick up the tab.

- overplaying your hand. Just because I agreed to have a drink with you does not mean I'm now off the market, need to negotiate other hookups with you first, or will take kindly to a suggestion that I should pull my ad, having found, at last, the best guy available.

- whining about your [ex]wife, girlfriend, whatever. Really, I probably don't want to hear about her at all, but if we are to discuss it, I don't really want a long litany of her sins against your sainthood, about how criminal the level of alimony is you have to pay, or all the other ways she done you wrong. A wistful shake of the head and a "things didn't work out the way we had hoped they would" is all I need to know.

- whining about anything. While there may be many sucky areas of your life, I didn't sign on as therapist. I'm certainly open to entertaining the idea that you are human with failings and feelings -- that's a plus. But read above about the wistful shake of the head. Practice it. Perfect it! The first date is not the time to share in open, angsty detail about your struggles with drugs or gambling or weight, about how unfairly your boss treats you, or about the scam artists you fell for. What makes you think this is sexy?!

- forgetting condoms. Dude, you're trying to hook up, this just makes you look stupid.

One last note: I hook up on CL. Several of my best friends hook up on CL. Several of their friends hook up on CL. And we all love to talk about it. Which means if you piss off one of us, you've just shut yourself off of access to everyone. Among other things, if you promise a wicked wild sexual ride, and what you deliver is a 2 minute fuck followed by rolling over...word will get around quick that all you are looking for (or offering) is warm body masturbation.

Posted by sapiophile at 10:24 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I think I will never fail to be amazed at how very many men think that their penis is the one and only selling point when picking up chicks online.

It's not only the profiles or CL responses that consist of a few "words" and a picture of a cock, but it's also profiles or responses that have no photo but a lot of words about the owner's cock. Is there really so much pressure on men to have big cocks that they can't imagine that a woman could possibly care about anything else? If so, where is this pressure coming from? I mean, I enjoy a big cock as much as an average or small one, but it's nowhere on my list of required characteristics. If I were going to be shallow about the cocks I fuck, I'd go into more detail about shape and proportion than size, anyhow.

I, of course, would have to be pretty hard up to respond to an ad or an email that consisted exclusively (or nearly so) of a photo or description of a dick, but let's talk about this a little bit more. Why don't cock shots make me hot? In part, it's because almost every guy has one, so it's not like its presence sets him apart in any interesting or useful way. In part, it's because relying on it demonstrates a lack of imagination that I assume would translate to extremely boring sex. In part, it's because I also envision that extremely boring sex would be extremely cock-focused. And, hey, I love me some cock, but, really, no matter how fast and easy I am, I want to start with face, mind and body.

Face: I fully admit that I am a shallow bitch. If I don't think you're attractive -- and I'm not saying you have to be Denzel Washington (sigh!), but attractive -- I'm not going to want to kiss you. And if I'm not going to want to kiss you, I'm not going to want to get naked with you. And if I don't want to get naked with you, it doesn't matter how gorgeous or huge your cock is.

Mind: I don't even have anything interesting to say on this topic. We all know the brain is the biggest sex organ. Let's move on.

Body: Do you move your body like you really live in it? Do you seem to take joy in it and think creatively about using your whole body to seduce me? If not, again with the not getting around to seeing your cock.

Ultimately, I think the weight such a large proportion of men seem to put on their cocks as the only important thing in a casual encounter demonstrates yet another way that our society is deeply fucked up about sex, so even though I find it kind of pathetic and annoying in the individual cases, as a trend, I find it depressing.

I think I'm gonna go pick up someone smart, hot and creative to drown (ahem) my sorrows.

Posted by ClueChick at 3:45 PM | Permalink | Comments (9)

People sometimes gets confused about what it means to be a slut. I am a slut. But what does that mean? It means I like sex, and I enjoy it on a casual and non-casual basis. Some sluts like fucking strangers while others like sleeping around with their friends. Some of us do both.

But it's a mistake to think that slutty people don't have standards. My standards may be different from your standards... in fact, I hope they are, because, frankly, you're not getting laid enough for my tastes, and if we were competing for the same pool of sex, one of us would be cranky. But it makes me more than a little grouchy when I hear, "Well, you know CC, she'll sleep with anyone."

Don't mistake sluttiness for lack of discernment. This is like looking at the person who chooses different clothing from you and saying they have no taste. They have taste; it's just not taste you share. And you come off like a lame-ass middle class prig when you do it.

Yes, I mean you.

Posted by ClueChick at 11:42 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

So, here I am, reading one of my favorite feminist blogs, feministing, when I ran across this post about porn for women. Apparently, the Cambridge Women's Pornography Cooperative has put out a book called Porn for Women. This pink-covered tome draws you in with the steamy, sultry image of ... a man vacuuming? This is a joke, right?

From feministing:

The book is simply titled, "Porn for Women," and consists of hot, sensitive men who are supposed to be a woman's wet dream. For example, one page features a guy reading the sports section of the paper saying, “Ooh, look, the NFL playoffs are today. I bet we'll have no trouble parking at the crafts fair.”

I'm sorry, no.

Now, I'll grant you that I may not exactly be your everyday kind of woman, but I happen to hang out with a lot of women (granted, they also are not exactly mainstream, but they are women...), and here's the thing.

A man vacuuming is not enough to get me wet. And furthermore, it's patently ridiculous to suggest that women are so fucking desperate for a man who will help around the house (and let's not get into what's offensive about that little concept, shall we?) that a mere image of one will send her dashing off for her Hitachi.

The front flap has speech bubbles (speech bubbles?? this is hot??? what are we, twelve?) saying such scorching things as, "God, that's so interesting. Tell me more." and, "Want to snuggle?"

No. Just, no.

Now, listen, I like a sensitive guy as much as the next woman. I can totally picture jumping a guy in an apron. He can even be wearing something under it. Especially if what he's wearing is a black velvet shirt, and the apron is burgundy, and he's being all hot and skillful with a spatula and... oh, excuse me, I got distracted, there. So, yeah, that can be hot, and there's a place for it, but probably not for a whole book of it. Especially not when the book is full of simpleminded, trite phrases like, "Have another piece of cake. I don't like you looking so thin." (That's also from the front flap.)

What gets me hot is not a guy who wants to go to a craft fair over a football game but a guy who likes to do things with me. What turns me on is not a guy who gives me some line about being too thin but a guy who gets a hard-on when I rub up against him and lick his ear.

If I'm going to look at a picture of a guy to accompany my jilling off, it sure as hell isn't going to be some guy (no matter how attractive) gazing soulfully into the camera accompanied by an inane quote. It's going to be some attractive (but not necessarily fucking jock-y, thank you) guy doing something competently. But since that's hard to show in a photograph, you should have a quote from him talking about what he's doing and why he's passionate about it.

The Cambridge Women's Pornography Cooperative has entirely missed the mark. If you want me to like a guy for his personality, give him personality. If you want me to like a guy 'cause he's hot, make him attractive and give him skills. If you want me to gag on your overly simplistic stereotypes, publish this book.

Posted by ClueChick at 10:38 PM | Permalink | Comments (8)

Don't let this happen to you!

Posted by ClueChick at 6:51 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Ahh, Thanksgiving! That wonderful little holiday that's so perfect for unplanned and unanticipated vacations. Sorry to have disappeared on you all, and I hope you were able to find other ways to entertain yourselves while I was offline.

I also hope you all had warm and happy Thanksgivings, including, I hope, plenty of fun and guilt-free sex! That's one of the best things to get out of a holiday, wouldn't you say?

Now that I'm back, I have a couple of backlogged questions to get to this week, including one on open relationships (Hello out there! I haven't forgotten you!) and one on why promising email contacts fall through. And somewhere in the midst of all that, I'll have to take some time to catch you all up on my latest, too.

I'll sign off with the entirety of an email I received in response to a recent ad:

"too many words... We just want to see pictures. Keep the talk between your girlfriends"

Posted by ClueChick at 8:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)

Prettiness is not a rent you pay for occupying a space marked "female". -Erin McKean

This quote floated across my computer screen recently, and I had to bring it here, because beauty continues to be a major bugaboo for our society and individuals in it, especially (but not exclusively) women.

I like to look good. I like to put on a swingy skirt and a velvety shirt and go out and flirt with strangers. I also like to put on a frumpy, cozy robe, curl up on the sofa and drink hot tea. I like to feel good, and to be able to wear what suits my mood. And if I want to wear something frumpy out of the house, too, then by gosh, that's what I'm going to do.

As a woman who has a lot of sex, and for whom the dance around sex is a big part of life, I'm often all too aware of social expectations about female beauty, and, in particular, about the impossibility of meeting those standards. Don't wear makeup and some people will think you're lazy and don't care about your looks. Do wear makeup and other people will say you're asking to be hit on.

I even like to be hit on, if it's done in a way that doesn't seem presumptuous or intrusive. A polite opener? Good. A hand on my ass? Bad!

It's all tied up with the ingrained idea of women as objects, and as such, as needing to satisfy the consumer's gaze. All of this has been said before and by more eloquent people than I, so I'll leave it at that, and thank Erin McKean for her well stated post.

Posted by ClueChick at 5:40 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I have a little cold, which, naturally, I abhor. Also, you know what they say about women's sex drive at 30? It's completely true. this is an unfortunate combination.

What I'd like is for someone to start a business screening hot 18 year old men for personality, enthusiasm and attentiveness (and also things like STDs, etc) and keep a database of them. Then, old-but-lazy-but-frisky women such as myself could just call in and place an order...

Oh, right, I know that sort of thing is illegal, but wouldn't it be nice if we lived in a society that was healthy enough about sexuality that that sort of thing could be totally consensual, hot and non-creepy?

Posted by ClueChick at 10:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (4)

I try hard not to pull the, "Tell me about you!" card unless I'm really stumped. I know that when I'm put on the spot with no seeding topic helping to crystalize my thoughts, I can end up paralyzed. "About me??" I'll think in a panic. "What about me? How I look? What I read? Where I grew up? My shower routine? What??" Then, I will, as unobtrusively as possible, sidle away from the conversation in search of something less stressful, like directing traffic in downtown Baghdad. Therefore, I'm sympathetic to the guys who freeze up in the face of similarly open-ended queries from me.

I will point out, however, that I only go to the broad and open question section of my trusty getting-to-know-you handbook after more specific questions have been dodged:

Me: So, what do you do for fun?

Him: Oh, you know, I like all kinds of stuff.

Me: Like what?

Him: Whatever, you know! Just whatever sounds good at the time.

Me: [grr]

Or:

Me: Tell me a bit about what you're into!

Him: I like sex.

Me: Oh, yeah? What about it?

Him: Well, it's, uh... sex. And sex is hot, so I like it. Yeah!

Me: Mmhmm. So, what would you say your style is, or what sorts of things get you going?

Him: Hey, chicks, man, they're great. I really like sex with women.

Me: Okay... [backing away]

The early stages of getting to know someone are tough. And to pull it off, both parties have to be willing to share the work. Ideally, you'll take turns asking questions, and when it's your turn to answer a question, you've got to, oh, I don't know, answer the question, perhaps even with actual information.

I'm not asking what you like in bed just to kill time, after all. If you give me the right answer, as soon as we're done talking, I'll drag you to my bed and rip your clothes off (or let you rip off mine). But if your answer makes me want to claw your eyes out with frustration, you can be sure that the only one getting any in my bed that night will be me. And, of course, my trusty Hitachi, which never lets me down.

Posted by ClueChick at 11:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I had intended to give a long, thought-provoking weekend post on the difference between casual sex and sex in a relationship, but then I had such a fantastic weekend that I didn't get a chance to.

Today, I'd like to share yet another pet peeve. We all know that I'm not particularly impressed by those guys who post to CE offering money to "amateurs" who might be willing to hook up with them. Yes, I know some people fetishize the exchange of money, and I'm all for some good, clean fetishization, but I think many of those fellows offering money are doing so because they have few other charms to recommend them, not because it makes them hot to pay for it.

When I'm queen of the universe, things might change, but I'm willing to live with imperfection as long as there's fun to be had despite (or, in some cases, because of) that.

However, I occasionally get responses to my ad, which never mentions money, wherein the responder offers money as a way to set himself apart from the crowd. This zooms beyond tacky and lands well into sleazy. Guys, don't do that. It implies that you think all women can be bought.

Now, I actually do think that most people can be bought, particularly if they've already shown themselves to be open to casual encounters. But if a woman is already looking for casual sex, she's taking herself out of the "scarcity" equation and may even be trying to move her own sexual economy away from being a commodity.

You may think little enough of sexually adventurous women (or all women in general, for that matter) that you think it's reasonable to buy them off, but many of us find that downright offensive.

Posted by ClueChick at 2:12 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

ELEGANT,SEXY VIRGIN WANTS TO MEET HORNY MEN FOR FOREPLAY!!

(If it says virgin, it's spam. If it's in all caps, it's spam.)

I'm really HOT..wanna see me in person? - w4m - 23

(If it says "I'm really HOT" it's spam.)

For Women I'm looking for a nude/semi housecleaner - m4w

(That one made me laugh.)

LOOKING FOR TWO HOT GRLZ.TO HAVE MY 1ST THREESUM. - 22

(Mmm, classy!)

Please im begging you buy my porn!!! its cheap!!

(Because cheap is the first thing I look for in porn!)

Posted by ClueChick at 8:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

That's so sweet that you all want to know my okcupid profile! Okay, here it is!

Oh, darn, that doesn't really tell you any more about me than this blog, does it? Especially disappointing, I know, is the lack of photos. Phooey on me! But I actually did mean it when I said I plan to stay (mostly) anonymous. Yes, sure, my friends know that I'm ClueChick, and they all get a bit of a kick out of it, but there are a lot of good reasons for me to remain anonymous, and until someone can convince me otherwise, that's where it's gonna stay.

The following do not count as convincing reasons:
You want to see what I look like.
You want to know I'm really a woman.
You want to pick me up.

Also, because some of my astute readers have queried me more closely: no, not every detail about myself that I post here is exactly, 100% true. I've fudged a few details here and there. Sue me.

Posted by ClueChick at 10:43 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I have, in front of me, a photograph that a man sent me in hopes that I would want to sleep with him through the sheer power of his physical beauty. How can I tell? He didn't write anything in his email. He just sent me a picture. I suppose he's going on the theory that a picture is worth a thousand words. His mistake, however, is that if he just sends me a photo, I'm the one who gets to pick the thousand words.

I'm going to start with: "drunk", "staggering" and "bad judgment".

Allow me to describe this picture to you:

It's an average-looking guy, a little bit chunky, but in a "I still play rugby with my pals" kind of way. He has a terrible haircut, with his stringy, light brown hair falling into his eyes, but not in an artful and sexy way so much as if to say he hasn't gotten his hair cut recently. His cheeks are brightly flushed, and his eyes are narrowed to squinty little specks. He has half a glass of beer tottering precariously in one hand while, with the other hand, he is flipping off the camera.

His body tells me that he's too drunk to do much more than lean forward and rest his elbows on his knees, and the middle finger extended to the camera's eye is clearly a stretch, as he looks extremely unbalanced by the effort.

This is a real photograph that I received in response to one of my ads, and the only good thing I have to say about it is that he's wearing pants. I go on the theory that the only time a guy should flip me off, if at all, is at the end of our relationship. So I took this photograph to indicate that he wanted a very brief relationship: He writes an email, I read it, he flips me off (via the photo), I hit delete.

I have to admire, if nothing else, his efficiency.

Posted by ClueChick at 9:21 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I was recently talking to a friend of mine about a man she'd been seeing. They'd been dating fairly regularly before they had a spectacularly ugly breakup, and in the months since they broke up, it's come to light that he was trying to seduce several other women (in our social circle, no less) into his bed. You all know how I feel about cheating, right? So I don't need to go on about that. Instead, what I want to talk about is something she said while talking about this. She said, "I know it's awful of him, but at the same time, he just can't help it. He's a guy."

Hold up. What??

It's this kind of bullshit that keeps us from social advancement together, because let me tell you, there's no "war of the sexes." We all win, or we all lose. And when we think that guys can't help themselves from being evil bastards, we do no one any favors. Here's why:

First, when women expect men to act like assholes, we set ourselves up to have shitty partners. Have you ever had a shitty partner? Not much fun, was it? Thus, shitty partners are bad.

Second, when men get the pass on bad behavior, it encourages other men to behave badly, which, when they're good guys, bums them out. This leads to the problem of nice guys feeling like they finish last, and that blows.

Third, if we can expect nothing more than bad behavior from men, we're basically saying that they suck. "Oh, sure, I'd rather have a partner who respects me, but what can I expect? He's a bottom-feeder guy."

People, don't excuse bad behavior in anyone. It may be forgivable, but it's not excusable.

Women, don't put up with bullshit. Why would you even want to?

Men, you don't suck (except for that one sweet spot just a little to the left... yeah, there...) and I expect more of you. Don't disappoint me.

Posted by ClueChick at 5:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (3)

Ah, Valentine's Day. It is a day of joy, trauma, drama and crushed hopes for lovers and singles everywhere. Although it is traditionally most celebrated by romantically involved couples, and I am neither romantic nor involved, as a woman writing a blog about relationships, I could hardly let this opportunity pass me by, right?

First, I hope all of you, my beloved readers, who are hoping to get laid today, do, in fact, get laid. And if you're into all the kinky Valentine's Day shit like flowers and chocolates, I hope you get that, too. (Although, on a political note, if you get flowers, I hope they're organically grown or Veriflora certified, and if you get chocolate, I'm sure it'll be fairly traded. I won't wish diamonds on anyone, since they're overpriced, shiny, meaningless trinkets with a filthy political past and present, and I know none of you want that karmic debt flashing from some gaudy piece of jewelry that you'll only rarely wear out of the house, anyway.)

With that out of the way, I further hope that you all enjoy your day free of social obligations or pressure, enjoying your current relationship state -- whether single, partnered, slutty, celibate, busy or bored. I hope that you have at least one fabulous orgasm, either alone or with a friend. I hope you enjoy your dinner out, or your movie, or your romantic tryst, or your drunken stupor or a day of ignoring the hype.

And, most of all, I hope that you are celebrating today, and every day, by finding and making your own path to happiness, regardless of what Hallmark tells you to do.

Posted by ClueChick at 7:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

The thing about any flirtation techniques I tell you about is that they only work if they're working. That is, flirtation is a game, and it only moves if both people are playing. So when you're flirting, it's essential that you be paying attention to her cues and back off if she's not playing the same game you are.

There's no guarantee, and there's nothing as effective as a bucket of cold water as someone who moves the flirtation too fast or clumsily. By paying attention, if she hits the brakes, you can, rather than plowing into her bumper, slow down, too, and figure out where you're going.

Sometimes, I'll be flirting with a guy online, and I'll start to get bored with where things are -- this happened recently with a fellow with whom I started a very explicit email exchange. I offered a scenario and asked what he'd do, and he responded with the implication that if I were to show up at his office in that attire, he'd want a blow job. Okay, cool. So I offered a few more lines of what might happen and then passed the ball back to him... and he commented that he wanted to hear more about the blowjob I'd be giving him. Now, I was writing about something I love doing, so that's all well and good, but, hello, dull. That's like actually giving a guy head and encouraging him to put his hands on my breasts, only to find a moment later that he has returned to wanking himself while I suck him off. Yawn. So I tried to steer things in a more interesting direction and, again, that fell flat.

He was so focused on his path that he wasn't paying attention to mine, and not only that, but he wasn't paying attention to when I stopped playing along. His loss. For the rest of you... it's those subtle cues, like, "This isn't working for me," or a yawn that give it away. Pay attention!

Posted by ClueChick at 7:25 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Open letter to IM boy:

Dear IM boy,

You certainly do seem quite nice, and I'm sure that you would be as fun in bed as you promise, but when I look at pictures of you, I can't help thinking of college boys (which you are) and how much I didn't really go for them even when I was in college. I know that it's not fair to judge someone just on his age, though, which is why I continued to chat with you after our first couple of emails.

You have, however, backed up my ageism, through your incessant insistence that if I would just let you drop by between classes, you're "sure we'd have fun." That was even okay in our early conversations, but now that I have told you, in no uncertain terms, that I have no interest in meeting you, I'm afraid your IMs are beginning to sound a tad... well... desperate.

Of course, it's great that you think I'm hot; I can't think of a woman who doesn't like to hear that, of course. And while it's true that I require my lovers to find me hot, that's actually only one of the things I look for in a partner, even a fuckbuddy type partner.

Perhaps contrarily, I like to think that the people I take to bed don't need me to take them to bed. I like to imagine that they could pick up someone else if it didn't work with me. I like to think they are choosing me, rather than needing me. And so, three months of forlorn IMs asking if I'm free does not work in your favor.

I do wish you luck in your future endeavors, and I encourage you to lay off the high pressure routine, for starters.

Distantly,
Cluechick

Posted by ClueChick at 6:57 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

This response came in this afternoon on a personals site. In my profile, I say that I'm in my late 20s and looking for someone within 10 years of my age. I also, as almost always, specify that smarts are desirable.

try me you don't have to look elsewhere. i'm everything you want in one pkg. maybe a little older. look at it this way much better than the rest. i'll dojusy about anything for you try me what do you hane to lose accept time. i'm better than most 45-50 yr olds lets chat

His profile lists his age as 62.

I am pained.

Posted by ClueChick at 8:48 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I'm not intentionally picking on the baby people, here, it's just that their posts leap out at me as some of the most mind-boggling:

Looking for a responsible person for to become a parent! - m4w - 37

Do you want to have a child? I do not have any children and i wanted to see if anyone was interested in having one. I will exchange information and look forward to hearing from you!

Now, if you want a kid, more power to you, and if you want to find someone online to share that experience with, great! But... you're posting this in casual encounters! What the...?

Posted by ClueChick at 10:55 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Dear Not-Hot Guy:

Your emails were good, and you had a great attitude! I liked your confidence and your forward-yet-teasing approach to catching my attention. I liked that you flattered me but not obsequiously. Normally, I push hard to get a photo, but you told me you didn't have one, but that "[you're] very attractive and [I] won't be disappointed," and I thought, gosh, no one would be idiotic enough to lie about that!

When I arrived, you waved me over, and I thought, "But, wait, he said he's hot!" Okay, to be fair, you didn't say "hot". You said, "Very attractive." But, to be honest, you're really not. I'm sorry, and you'll notice that I didn't do anything rude like turn around and leave or cut our meeting drastically short.

Maybe you were thinking that this was a fine approach because you would win me over with your great personality. That might have worked if you were as dynamic in person as you were in email, but, no, you had that desperate air of being caught. I could tell; you knew you'd blown smoke and that now the fans were clearing the air. What a waste. You wasted my time, and you wasted your own time. Pfah!

I was disappointed. Very disappointed! Not only had I been looking forward to meeting a very attractive guy, but I had been looking forward to meeting someone who tells the truth and has a firm grasp on reality. So you can see why I was disappointed, right? Because either you think you're hot, or you know you're not and you lied about it. I hate that.

Now, I'm cranky. I hate that, too. I'm going to call one of my hot boys to console me.

Smooches,
ClueChick

Posted by ClueChick at 10:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

I didn't even bother to click through this one:

I Look for Girl - 32

Or: "Me Tarzan, you girl."

Posted by ClueChick at 5:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (5)