That Time I Achieved Semi-Internet Notoriety And A Random Ass Slid Into My DMs

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A few days ago, I got on a bit of a more serious note and had a piece go up for the people up at Buzzfeed on being a single dad. Don’t worry, my heart still resides here at PGP. Anyways, it got as good a reaction as I could’ve ever imagined and a lot of people personally reached out to me to tell me what they thought.

It was all incredibly flattering and the kind words warmed my heart. I got some great feedback from single moms, single dads, and older parents simply wishing me luck. However, one person decided they’d run full speed ahead and slide into my DMs like they’re breaking up a double play.

Now, my DMs have never been a mass-trafficked area. I’ve got a group messages with some commenters on this site (shoutout, guys), and the occasional spam message. What I’m trying to say is that normally my DMs are more barren and empty than Madonna’s hooch.

Early Sunday afternoon, I was at the playground with Crash Jr., you know, watching him swing, go down the slide, narrowly miss picking up the condom wrapper someone left there, the usual. My phone vibrated, and I looked down to see my latest interaction.

What greeted me was an essentially faceless private profile on Instagram that sent what I am going to call a unisex picture of an ass and the greeting “Hey.”
Won’t lie, I was a little floored. I just had someone sexually slide into my DMs. Is this what Mia Khalifa feels like? Momma, I made it.

But I’m a realist, and I had to pump the brakes. I started laying out scenarios before I made my reply. My first thought was that it was a bot and my recent online notoriety had just led to some unwanted computer attention. Secondly, I figured it could’ve been my friends trolling the hell out of me, because my friends are dicks. Or, it could just be a dude, because girls don’t need to be that forward (Although, if you are, follow me on Twitter). I gave it a 1% chance that a female had slid into my DMs like Pete Rose.

After describing my predicament and consulting with the opinion of a few people, I decided to do it for the story and respond.

I went with, “Well that was a bold opener,” because it was. No matter who was behind the rogue ass-shot, they came in guns blazing. In my early years, I might’ve gone just as hard back, but thanks to maturity and the downfall of Manti Te’o, I wasn’t about to let myself get embarrassed.

I played it close to the vest, as did my mysterious DM slider. They responded to my “bold opener” line with a simple “Lol. Whats up?”

What’s up? What’s up is you just sent an unsolicited ass shot to my Instagram DMs and are playing it off like you sent a Hallmark greeting card. Frankly, I was still a little perturbed, but I couldn’t help respect the style. But I wasn’t letting anything get out of hand. I’ve been out of the dating game since nearly the last Olympics so maybe this is how they do it now, but I wasn’t taking chances.

My counterpart cracked first and admitted they loved my Buzzfeed piece. He/She/They/It definitely went hard in the paint with how they showed their approval of writing, because normally a like or a comment suffices, but fans are fans. It was like a chess match, but instead of pawns there were tactfully planned messages. Needless to say, I was sweating like Antonio Cromartie at a Tallahassee foster home.

At some point, though, big players have to make big plays. I couldn’t waste my time tip-toeing around the digital portrait of a backside hanging up in my DMs without knowing the owner and their intentions. I walked up to the line, screamed “OMAHA!” and said, “Listen, I’m glad you liked the post, but if you’d like to chat I need a picture of your face to make sure you aren’t 1. A computer 2. A dude 3. My friends or 4. 12 years old.” After a few minutes, my request was met with:

“I’m a boy but I’m really into you.”

Sorry, bud, you’re not catfishing Crash Davis. I thanked the now-confirmed him respectfully for enjoying my post and went about my way. Nothing wrong with it in my opinion, but your boy just doesn’t bat for that team.

Now if we’re looking at this in terms of who went above and beyond to show me how appreciated my writing was, mystery ass shot guy gets an “A” for effort. But then again, I’ve also never been more bewildered in my life.

If you just skipped down to the bottom only to read the last line, long story short is someone sent me a dirty picture and wanted me. Just leave it at that.

Image via Shutterstock

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Kyle Bandujo

The artist formerly known as Crash Davis. My kid doesn't think I'm funny.

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