The Feminist

After we set up a date, the signs started coming out that this girl was crazy. First she sent me to her website expounding on the type of feminism she studied. (If you didn’t know that feminism had multiple subcategories with separate research tracks, you are in good company. With me.) I got a few paragraphs in, but after having to look up 12 words I realized that I wasn’t getting anywhere. Just put that on the list of things to ask her about.

Then, before we met up, she sent me this:

I've currently got on blue jeans and a rather playful t-shirt with a somewhat wild print featuring turquoise, black, taupe and white. I don't imagine that I'll change clothes between then and now. But I'll certainly throw on a jacket. It's too cold out there to be walking around without a jacket!

Really? I mean, I once jokingly sent a note to someone saying, “I look like the girl in my photos.” But that was a joke. And I certainly didn’t give an update on weather-appropriate outerwear.

When I finally sat down across from her I was ready to have this first impression before me supplant any previous first impression, and I soon asked her about her studies in feminism.

I still could not tell you what she studies. Not because she continued to use obscure words, but because she didn’t explain it at all. Perhaps she misunderstood the question, or perhaps she just thought an appropriate answer was to talk about a previous professor who sexually harassed her but she couldn’t report him because she was in love with him and he had incriminating emails from her.

Huh? Completely confused but without any standing in our five-minute relationship to ask for a thorough explanation, and a pretty strong feeling that I didn’t want said thorough explanation, I decided to let myself remain completely confused and move on to other topics.

We ended up having a fine conversation, although I remained forewarned about the crazy. A couple of times my mind wandered to a conversation I had with a friend and fellow Madtown internet dating girl. My friend is, in her own words, “having lots of fun.” This girl is getting action. Where the hell is my action?! I’ve been internet dating for the better part of a year, and I’ve been to first base with one of ‘em! I’m meeting hot people, so it can’t be a lack of opportunity. The barrier must be allowing myself to take that opportunity.

Funny, but the couple of times that popped into my head during my date with Feminist Chick corresponded with when she would lay her forearm on the table, lean forward, and place her breasts on her arm, causing them to slightly pop upwards.

Do girls do this? Is this some technique I never learned? Is it code for something? Was I a complete douchebag for staring at her breasts when she did this?

Damn boobs. Making me consider a second date with a crazy chick.