As a rule in dating in a post-Google world, one should always namecheck the potential suitor. You can get some effing crazies, you know? I mean, if I have a date with Tom Smith, you can be damned sure that I am in front of my computer WAY before I am alone with Mr. Smith, using my amazingly creepy internet stalking abilities to find out exactly what homedude has been up on the interwebs. I will know if he is a creeper or into cosplay or a Juggalo in a matter of minutes, thus saving me from a bad date or murder.
This search also serves a positive purpose, and not just a creeper one. In googling the dude/lady, you are able to delve into their online presence and possibly discover common interests and mutual friends that you didn’t know existed. The tricky part is introducing it into conversation without sounding like a complete fucking psycho-stalker. Which brings me to another circus act that I recently endured…
I met this dude at a party with some girlfriends a few weeks ago, and he asked for my number. He seemed like a cool dude, and while I wasn’t interested in him romantically, he seemed like he might make a fun friend/drinking buddy, so I gave it to him. He commences a text conversation with me over the next few days, no big deal, but every time I ask his last name, he dodges the question. This gives me a super red flag, and me and my ladies commence a serious search for this dude with no last name, to no avail. He wanted to hang out this past weekend, and when I asked him his last name again (totally casually) he stopped texting and calling me. I have decided he is either on a classified mission with the CIA or is a ninja. The world may never know.
Practicing my Nun-chucks,