Today’s Extremely Rude Messenger Conversation

He sent me a request to add me to his Messenger list before he even sent he the first “hello.” That turned me off immediately.

I wasn’t very nice to him. Probably he would have been harmless, but I just wasn’t in the mood. I was polite as long as I could stand to be.

My thoughts and commentary are in italics, as usual.

HIM: Hi there
HIM: 36 swm in Kansas here
ME: 44, div (I’m not in the mood. Go away.)
HIM: how are ya hun? (Don’t ever call me “hun” if you don’t know me well.)
ME: jaded (Tired of idiots like you who assume I want you to call me “hun”)
HIM: lol whats that mean? (If you don’t know, why are you laughing? Maybe you should cry instead.)
ME: cynical (Some days I feel like a dictionary)
HIM: lol ok what ya up to? (You’re quite the giggler, aren’t you, sport?)
ME: working. You? (Damn. I should have said I was chatting with some fool on Messenger. Oh, well. Too late for witty repartee.)
HIM: same lol what do u do hun? (I think he just lied to me. I think he’s really cruising the Yahoo Member Directory for hot babes. Well, he’s a-fixin to get burned.)
ME: Me? I’m a lawyer. So it’s “Hon.” and not “hun.” (“Hon.” as in the abbreviation for “Honorable,” which is how my mail comes addressed, not “hun” as in the pandering diminutive you clearly intend. )
HIM: sorry hon i manage a small sporting good store (Hah! He thought I was correcting his spelling!)
HIM: what kind of lawyer? (Like you’d understand if I told you. Right. All you need to know is that I’m a good one.)
ME: A good one
HIM: lol and a pretty one (You think it’s funny that I’m good? Go against me in court someday. I double-dog dare you. You won’t ‘lol’ for long.)
ME: thank you (I’m trying to be polite. Really I am.)
HIM: love ur pix! why are u single? (Because I’m divorced. It sort of comes with the territory.)
ME: I didn’t like being married (Surely he didn’t want me to tell him the story of my marriage and its aftermath. Surely.)
HIM: i see. do u date a lot? (Why? Are you wanting to know if you have competition? You do. It’s from my collection of batteries. Not really. Heh heh. Blushing to myself. Yikes!)
ME: some
HIM: bet the men love u huh? (No. They hate me. That’s why they ask me out.)
ME: They are mostly scared of me (I’m told that I can be pretty intimidating to be in such a small package. But dynamite’s like that.)
HIM: why is that? lol
ME: I’m smarter than they are (and if they say too many stupid things I start making fun of them and they don’t even realize it)
HIM: lol so no serious stuff in a while? (How can I be serious with a man who giggles constantly?)
ME: when we start talking serious stuff they can’t keep up with me. It’s a sad situation. (You have no idea how much at a disadvantage you are in this conversation, buddy.)
ME: For instance, politics… (Dude, this is a hint as to where the conversation probably ought to go, because I don’t like the tack you’re taking.)
HIM: cant keep up with u??? in bed or what? lol (What a freaking loser! I bet he says that to all the women he accosts!)
ME: um…that’s kind of a personal question, don’t you think? (This is not a hint. I’m telling you it’s a personal question and you need to change your approach if you want me to continue talking to you.)
HIM: yeah sorry just teasing u (What makes you think this disembodied person on the other end of your chat conversation whom you’ve never met wants to be teased about her bedroom activities? Jerk.)
HIM: i like to tease and flirty (How nice. For those who don’t already know, “how nice” is a southern euphemism for “fuck you.”)
HIM: that ok?
ME: flirting’s fun (It is. What you’re doing isn’t flirting, though. It’s just offensive. And furthermore I’m in the process of writing a responsive comment to one of the political blogs posed by my good friend the High Priest of Meatloaf, who, by the way, is really a funny and thoughtful guy and who can carry on interesting conversations in circles around you even in his zombified form.)
HIM: u wanna flirt with me? lol (When will this guy stop this incessant giggling???)
ME: Well, I don’t know (Read: Hell, no.)
ME: I like flirting with smart people who are masters of the double entendre. (I bet he asks me what a double entendre is.)
HIM: what is the “double entendre”? (Bingo)
ME: do you know what a pun is? (It took me a minute to figure out how to answer in words of two syllables or less)
HIM: yes (Well, that’s a start)
ME: It’s sort of like that. One word or phrase that has two meanings. (I bet that went right over his pointy little giggly head.)
HIM: k how tall are u? (Ummm… and this is relevant to this internet chat how?)
ME: Not very (Why? Are you measuring me for my coffin?)
HIM: do u have sexy legs too? (Oh, for Pete’s sake! He can’t be serious.)
ME: I doubt I’m the best judge of that (Actually, I’m a member of the Rockettes. I was hired solely because of my incredible legs. I recently quit the job, though, because all the other girls were just too tall. I got tired of them tripping over mini-me.)
HIM: i am a leg and foot man (Is that why you foot is in your mouth? What the hell do I say in response to that? Oh – wait. I’ll say nothing.)
HIM: busy? (Yeah. Busy pontificating on politics. Check my blog sometime.)
ME: well, I am at work (Not that’s I’m working any more than you are, though.)
HIM: what ya wearing today? (A frown while I’m talking to you.)
ME: sweats and a t-shirt (not that it’s any of your business)
ME: sexy, huh (Hint: I’m not flirting with you. Go away.)
HIM: can be lol (Give me a break)
ME: really (Should I have told him about the stains and rips?)
HIM: anything underneath? (Underneath this ice princess facade is a hot chick you will never get to play with, pal.)
ME: me (I know what he means. I just chose not to answer.)
HIM: no undies? (Wouldn’t his mama be proud of him for coming on to me like this?)
ME: Now how is that any of your concern? (Looking over the tops of my granny glasses at the screen in my best imitation of a stern librarian)
HIM: lol a man just likes to know (One of those burning questions, eh? They make creams, ointments and antibiotics for that, you know.)
ME: let me ask you something (Heh heh. I’m gonna get him)
HIM: ask away (You wouldn’t say that if you knew what was coming)
ME: when was the last time you saw an attractive woman, for example at the mall or in the grocery store, and struck up a conversation with her, then asked her if she was wearing any underwear? And if you actually were crass enough to do that, how hard did she slap you? (Uh-oh. I shouldn’t have used a big word like “crass.”)
HIM: saw my neighbor asked and she came home with me (Horny jackass)
ME: it’s women like that who make men think the rest of us like to be accosted and asked impertinent questions. Look, I like flirting. Flirting is fun. I’m not into gratuitous gratification of anyone’s sexual fantasies online. Whether or not I’m wearing underwear is not anything you should ever assume you can ask me or any other woman you don’t know. In case your mother didn’t teach you, let me inform you that it’s rude, boorish, and extremely unpleasant.
HIM: i apologize (You’d better.)
ME: thank you (Note that I didn’t accept the apology, merely thanked him for it.)
HIM: what case u workin on?
ME: I’m working on an assault case (You verbally assaulted me on this internet chat thingy.)
ME: And no offense, but I think I’m through talking with you. I prefer men who show some adeptness at actual conversation, not those who just leer at me like I’m a piece of meat. (and I want you to go away.)
HIM: bitch (yep. Especially to ass-clowns like you. It’s not just a job; it’s my calling.)

Last Updated on January 4, 2007 by Anne Orsi