Jerome’s Tinder profile intrigued me. And not just because he’s a Caucasian named Jerome. He only had 3 photos. In one he was sailing, in one he was kissing his mom on the mouth, and in one he was holding up his prosthetic leg. A one-legged sailor with an Oedipus Complex?! How could I resist?
WHAT HE DID RIGHT
- He was up front about the missing leg. So, rather than being a surprise turn-off , it was an intriguing turn-on. Always be honest on your online dating profile.
- He planned a unique New York evening. He picked me up in a pedi-cab (no he wasn’t driving it, sicko) and since he knew I love Napoli, he took me to Ribalta on 12th street and reserved a table right next to the wood fire pizza oven. Then he took me dancing. Always have a plan and always make reservations.
- He looked amazing. Hugo Boss suit, no tie, nice leather shoes, and a wool trench coat. Always dress well on dates. It turns us on.
- He kissed me on the dance floor. And it was good. He had one hand on my ass and the other on the back of my neck and he pulled my hair a little at the end. Always make that first kiss count, and always know where your hands are gonna go.
WHAT HE DID WRONG
- He was rude to the waiter. He never said please, he never said thank you and he left a shitty tip. Major turn off.
- He talked about money. A LOT. We discussed his inheritance, his salary and his best options for a debt consolidation loan. Never discuss money on a date. People who talk about money suck.
- He talked about his mom. A LOT. I don’t mind an Oedipus complex because I love wearing flowing gowns and I love having my breasts worshipped. But this dude told me random facts about his widowed-when-he-was-twelve mom that were obviously creepy lies she told him as he was growing up. Supposedly this bitch turned down a full scholarship to Julliard, had a threesome with Paul McCartney and George Harrison, has an IQ of 162 and has never dyed her hair. She’s a 76 year old woman with not one grey hair—Come the fuck on.
- His apartment was gross. In addition to having take-out containers and cans of prosthetic leg spray all over the place, he also had 4 empty and one full (of pee!) Gatorade bottles next to his bed. I know bro has a missing leg and we all get a little lazy, but again—COME THE FUCK ON. Get your mom to empty your piss jar for you.
- He was a selfish lover. Despite the above turn-offs, I still hooked up with him. I’m a sociosexual scientist. I made him take the fake leg off because I was excited to discover new positions. He does get high marks for kissing technique and boob sucking (#thanksOedipus!), but after fingering me badly (too fast, too shallow) for 2 minutes, he only went down on me for about 90 seconds (too fast, too sharp, no hands) before maneuvering himself above my face in an “I’m ready to skull fuck you now” type of position. I would have GLADY deep throated the fella and even used the stump for leverage on a nice tea-bagging had he had given me a mind blowing orgasm first. He didn’t, so I didn’t.
NSA Lesson: If you have a small penis, a large amount of debt or a fake leg, you’d better go down on a woman. If you have all three you’d better be damn good at it.
If you’d like to take me on a date, write DoctorAlex@NeverSleepAlone.com.
If we sleep together, I will tell the world.
This is how we learn.
Note from Dr. Alex: I of course sent Jerome a more detailed evaluation with specific suggestions for improvement and a gift certificate for a Handy.com house cleaning. Be the change you wish to see in the bedroom.