How to attract women when the Axe body spray isn't doing the trick

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 Sometimes I like to think of my life as a hyper-competetive reality show called, “Who’s the biggest tool-bag?”  I’ll admit, there have been some strong contenders this year, but a late entry seems to have taken the cake.

Flashback to a few months ago at some bar.  It was the kind of bar that showed up on the Dopplar radar as perpetually under a cloud cover of Axe body spray.  Every guy wore Affliction or Ed Hardy and every woman had a C-section scar, tramp stamp, and EBT card.  Basically, it was Jon Gosselin’s version of heaven.

 I was outside with my friend as she smoked when some guy came up to us.  Despite the frigid temperatures, he wore an extra smedium Affliction shirt.  In all his angel-winged, bedazzled glory, he came up to us and started asking our opinions on the ongoing crisis in Syria.

Yeah, right. 

This guy couldn’t even spell Syria.  He opened with some bland line then turned to me.  “Hey, you look exactly like my friend Lisa from back home.”

“I’m not Lisa,” I retorted, continuing to text.

“No, but you look like her.”

He interpreted my silence as an invitation to continue his worthless diatribe.

“Let’s take a picture so I can text it to her.”

I reluctantly agreed, but only after he bought us a drink and so long as he got my best friend in the photo too.  Then, I was going to pawn him off on her.  We took the pic and then I heard him say, “Yo, I’m gonna text this to B-Rad cuz he says there ain’t no hot girls here.”

Was I just used as marketing material for this hellhole?  We were leaving, so B-Rad was going to be severely disappointed.

I forgot about it until a month later when my friend was trolling Plentyoffish.com (feel free to judge her- she also watches the Bachelor) and came upon this.

Consider the black bar a gift.

WHAT.  THE.  FUCK.

“I don’t even know who this is?”  Of course you don’t, you ass-hat!!!  Because we never told you our names.  You had to spend $12.00 to take a picture with us. 

What’s the logic here? Girls are going to see this guy with two decent looking girls and think he has something going on?  Are the ladies just going to see your picture and assume you don’t remember our names because we are strictly B-team?  Do you hope they will think that your life is one perpetual Victoria’s Secret Fashion show???

I continued to read his profile and interpreted it using my Rosetta Stone for Douchebags as follows:

Hobbies:	Running, swimming, kayaking, pretty much anything outdoors	Lurking on women at the gym and in parks.  Occasionally ogling self in mirror.
Piercings:	None	Chickened out at Claire’s when I was 12
Tattoos:	Angel wings on back	Holy fuck!  You got the stupid Affliction angel wings tattooed on your back?  That’s dedication.  Who are you?  St. Chad, the Archangel of Douchebaggery???
What I like most in a woman:	Persinality (sp), sense of humor	Boobs.  Big ones.
Last book I read:	George Bush Autobiography	George Bush Autobiography

So, ass-hat, I’m sure you don’t remember me because I’m just some “random girl,” but hell hath no fury like a woman used as a prop in a cheap dating site pic.  So heed this warning from “Random Girl Number 1:”