I may have covered this one before, but obviously to no avail if I have to mention it again. Just because I write about sex and enjoy a guy who gives good flirt that borders on the naughty does NOT mean that I want a guy talking dirty to me every time we speak—especially before we have had a chance to meet. Seriously, this is not the way to get into my super sexy and oh-so tight jeans!

Picture it; you start chatting with a truly gorgeous man; great eyes, amazing smile and yes, a rock hard body that stands at well over six feet. You chat, he seems intelligent and animated and respectful with just the right amount of sexual energy and confidence, so you agree to meet. Then, in the days leading up to the date, you graduate from online chat to text messaging. The first messages are super sweet: “Hi Baby”, “Hello Sexy”, “Can’t wait for our date”.

Then, sprinkled in amidst some practical messages planning the deets of our date are one or two messages to the effect of: “You’re so sexy baby”, “You make me hard”. This is a little cheesy and quite odd—especially seeing as how this is not really going both ways. I chalk it up to a guy who is really excited and maybe trying to impress me with what he thinks I must want considering the stuff I write. I decide to let it go, send back a polite and funny reply and it seems to do the trick and get things back on a less greasy track.

A couple of days later; during hour two, maybe three at the salon with a crap-load of low-volume peroxide on my embarrassingly dark roots; I hear my phone play the little you-got-a-text-message ditty and welcome the amusement as it beats the month old magazines I’ve been offered. I see it’s a message from him, and while my breath doesn’t quite catch in my throat, nor does my heart skip a beat; I am delighted to hear from him because I am waiting to hear if my new suggested time for our date works for him. Here’s what it said:

“Just tell me when baby… you really turn me on”

Huh? Where did that come from? Guess someone’s feelin’ a little randy this afternoon. So I send back a specific time and simply ask if it works for him. He replies:

“That’s fine…do u have sensitive nipples?”

I laugh nervously and then let my sarcasm take over as I reply in hopes that it comes through in the message and type: “Umm…yeah.”

He replies: “I want u”

Obviously, this is weird as he is having a filthy conversation all by himself, so I put the phone down and decide to not reply. Minutes later, I hear the little ditty again and hesitate before checking the new message—I do want to keep liking him of course. The message reads:

“You make me drool”
My reaction: I spew cold coffee from my nostrils as I try to hold in my laughter as I am surrounded by several older ladies getting their hair done. Phone goes flying, coffee spills, and a foil full of blue goop falls to the floor. Clearly, I do not reply.

His next message promises to show me the best time I’ve ever had and the ones that follow are a weak attempt to convince me that he is not just looking for sex. They slowly trickle off after that. And needless to say; I don’t think that we will be meeting after all. I believe that we have mutually decided this without really needing to express it to the other; him because he is starting to realize that ‘sex writer’ does not = ‘easy slut’ and me… well… you read the messages.

It’s so sad that so many men are incapable of getting past the silly notion that they need to be raunchy in order to impress me. Yes, I do love using words as foreplay and yes, I am capable of prose that would make Larry Flynt blush, but this is in no way the best route to take if you wanna get with me—no matter how tall and chiseled you are… or how sexy you look with sweat running down your body or even how hot your tattoos look scribbled over your bulging muscles… *sigh as I wipe sweat from my brow*

Here is a little bit of advice: save the script that seems to be straight from an issue of Swank for the day that we do end up in bed together. Anything before that should be witty, intelligent and natural. And hold the cheese.