Phat Cats on Monday because my friend Thorgal sent out an invite. Lovely place, great music, and elegant (if laggy) surroundings. Since Thor was busy dancing with Molly, I jumped on a pink ball with a nice looking fellow named Lawrence (for reasons you will see below, I am leaving off his last name, but just let me say he must be related to a certain Godfather). His profile gave his rez day back in 2006, so this was no noob--even though he acted like one.
We introduced ourselves and took a few sweeping turns around the floor when he asked: "How old are you?" I made some non-committal noises about never asking a lady her age, but next he wanted to know vital statistics: Height, weight, hair color, cup size. This took me a bit aback and at first I started answering: "Yes, real blonde, longish hair, 5'3" ... C cup, if you must know...." but he wouldn't stop. Wanted the age. Wanted the weight. While giving out those is not generally a problem for me it just bugged me that he kept pushing.
Hell, I had already handed him an RL photo of me that I have tucked in my SL photo album, but due to the lag he said it wouldn't rezz for him. I pointed out that this questioning was rude behavior in SL where many people prefer to keep RL info private and we are all an illusion anyway. I mean WTF?
I thought I might convince him that there is more to a person than looks so I told him I wanted answers to a couple questions, too. Asked about his favorite authors, books he's read, movies, music. Shared my own tastes in those departments--something he did not seem interested about at all. But he kept returning to age. Now I was getting pissed.
Eventually I said okay. Told him I was "born in the year of the Dragon." Took him a couple minutes to Wikipedia that, but then he came back with the date ranges for YotD over the last century and he wanted to know which Dragon: Fire, Wood, Water? By now I was so done with this that I told him was I born in 1904. And he still wouldn't quit pushing.
Finally I told him: "Assume I am either 1) Young, moderately pretty, and grossly overweight or that I am 2) older than you, gorgeous, and thin as a rail. You pick which you prefer." (Just for the curious, I do not fit either of those profiles--you can think of me as average!) That, too, was not good enough and he persisted with the questions. I finally thanked him for the dance, told him it had been interesting--because I had learned so much more about the man he was by his questions than he had learned from me. Jumped off the pose balls and left.
I am sure I will be back to Phat Cats, but you won't catch me dancing with Larry there (or anywhere else) ever again!