Why I’m internet dating (But don’t expect to find anyone cos there is something wrong with all of you)
So many self satisfied people have done it. ‘I met my baby Dave that way’ etc.
Urgh…didn’t realise you gave birth to your boyfriend.
‘Oh well me and the other half met on uniform dating. And he doesn’t even wear a uniform!’ *giggles whilst looking smug.*
Who even says other half anymore btw? Would you be legless without him?
What gives me comfort (when I think I’m single and may end up living alone amongst cats), is when they produce a picture of said person, and that person resembles a potato, with a head the size of Texas.
So shallow, I hear you cry. Nope, just got standards. Or at least, I did.
These people, I hate to say it, all have the same thing In common;
So I guess what I’m saying is: I’ve become desperate.
A girl I used to work with, had a very pleasant boyfriend. Not much to look at, but a breathing human with a penis no less. She adored him, And quite frankly he was punching above his weight. She suggested the words ‘marriage and babies’ and he said that he wasn’t ready. She dumped him like a hot potato, hitched on to match.com and 6 months later was engaged. This was her ‘PLAN.’ I think she was ripe for the plucking. I actually think the particular man was irrelevant. A man, ANY man, would do. And interestingly, she had paid £25 a month for half a year just to find him. The magical ONE!
I must say I haven’t got to that stage (YET, HA) because I am still rather like Chandler from Friends, finding fault with them all. Me perusing the profiles: ‘Hmm, eyes too close together, only went to high school, tattoos, wrinkled lips, freaky nips, BIG HEAD BIG HEAD BIG HEAD.
Also, let’s say the obvious…how do we know these people aren’t serial killers? Hello, craig’s list anyone..
It’s not all bad. The great thing about internet dating is that I heard someone once describe it as Ebay for humans. This is so true. You can set your specifications and restrictions.
For example mine is: No smokers, no-one with kids, no-one married, no-one too old or too young or too far away or fat. Ha, that last one is a lie, you cannot specify that fat people not message you. Would be a bit harsh. Anyway, I digress, the point is that you target what you want.
But a bit like internet shopping, you don’t always get what you ordered. This is why viewing or ‘trying before you buy’ can never be replaced or bettered.
I much prefer to hold a piece of clothing in my hand, and try it on before I take it home. And I guess the same principle applies to a man. Can you really ever beat that frisson you get with a person when you meet them with no expectation and the chemistry just, happens?
There is something so inorganic about internet dating. You look at the profiles, much like you would scanning products and wondering whether there is any substance inside the pretty (or not so pretty) packages and like supermarkets, you have your levels. I think Zoosk would be tesco value and uniform dating is definitely sainsburys.
Some of the profiles are just disastrous. Just a few observations:
*If there are lots of pictures of you hugging other men, I’m going to assume you’re gay and have just ticked the wrong box. Literally.
*If you have a V neck top on in EVERY shot and you are super tanned, I am going to assume you should be on TOWIE.
*If it’s loads of pics of you and your dog I am going to assume you have no friends, and you probably smell of wet dog.
*If your profile details what you ‘don’t’ want in a woman, I think you are a penis. Say what you *do* want douche bag
*If your profile states ‘I don’t want time wasters’ then you are passive aggressive. And obviously no-one fancies you on this website. Boo hoo for you.
This morning I had a message from a guy saying ‘how’s the fishing going?’
Well, obviously shit because a) I’m still on here and b) You’re messaging me.
I must note that I am very pleasant to anyone messaging me, but if I’m not interested then I Just don’t message back. It completely gives false hope. One 24 yr old guy was like ‘hi I’m great, I’m this blah blah’ and I very nicely said that he was too young etc and he kept messaging me and then was like ‘I reckon you secretly want me *winky face*’ to which I bluntly replied, ‘No, I don’t actually.’
He then said that it hurt, that he liked me, that he was hoping to meet etc. Then if words could cry, he sent me a long weeping diatribe about how he COULD have lied bout his age, but was honest with me and that it should count for something. Like I OWED him something..
REALLY?! Getting this upset when we have NEVER met. You would think I would be flattered, but in reality. It’s just weird.
Contrary to the above, I have actually got to the point of meeting guys in person, because on paper they seem great.
Let’s take John.* * all names have been changed.
On paper his stats were good. RAF boy. ‘Funny, warm, ambitious.’
I wonder if John actually knows what the word ‘funny’ means.
Let’s replay my date with him:
He was standing outside his choice of restaurant – Frankie and bennies: the epitome of class and fine dining – with his hands stuffed in his pockets.
He lied about being 6ft on his profile – he was 5ft 8 at best. You know what they say about men who lie about their height?
They have small penises. Exactly. It all follows in the same vein you see, (excuse the pun) – if he’s wiling to lie about that, what else is he lying about? You know what I’m saying?
Back to the date and he then gurned a smile but no words came out.
‘Hi then,’ I ventured.
He grinned. ‘Alright.’
No kiss on the cheek, no ‘you look lovely’ because I did actually. My twitter followers said so. (And they know so much.)
He walked like he was holding an imaginary sack of potatoes, waving his arms under a heavy load that wasn’t there. A bit of a duck waddle. I think he was trying to impress me with his ‘swan’s. But I really was far too distracted by the waddle.
He didn’t hold the door open. Rather, he stood staring at me until I opened it. Maybe he thought I would pick up that telekinetic message? I did, eventually, after he coated me with his impenetrable ( but not really sexy) eyes.
He didn’t really look like his profile pic – of course. His nose looked broken and his hair was styled flat to his head. He wasn’t ugly – he was plain at best but not offensive. Some of the people attempting to talk to me on the website looked like trolls. I Got RPI just clicking the ‘block’ button.
His average appearance was not the problem. Some of the men that I have been most attracted to in my life haven’t been conventionally ‘good looking.’ But they all had something in common: Je ne se quoi. And this is where the poor boy really fell down.
Trying to make conversation with him was excruciating. At one point I actually had to ask him to lead the conversation because I was doing all the work. It was exhausting.
I asked him his ambitions. He didn’t know.
I asked him if he liked his job: ‘it’s alright’
I asked him about his friends ‘I don’t have many, it’s my family I’m close to.’ At this point, alarm bells started going off. If you don’t have friends, there is usually *something* wrong with you. Also, if you *choose* to spend time with your parents too, I start to be a bit concerned.
At the end of the date, the worst thing was that he thought he had earned a kiss.
He hadn’t. And like a bad comedy I walked off to my car and unbeknownst to me, his car was parked on the same floor. What are the chances? He hung off my car door hoping for a snog.
I slammed said car door and zoomed home dreaming about a hot cuppa and my latest American drama Boxset. Not the best sign for a first date.
This date actually wasn’t as bad as the guy who cried when I said (nicely – I’m not a monster) that I didn’t want to see him again.
CRIED. Tears. All falls back on my theory about men and women, that men get far more infatuated with women before anything intimate occurs. (Once they get it on the other hand, it’s a whole other story).
I guess the truth is I don’t see it taking me anywhere. It’s a good distraction when I am bored, and some of the messages I receive are hilarious, and the dates make great material. As Nora Ephron once said, everything in life is copy.
But I’ll eat my hat if anything comes of it, cos in truth, I think I’m an old fashioned girl. I just want to meet a guy in a noisy bar who is pretending to be interested in what I have to say just so he can snog me. And then just take it from there.
After all, isn’t that how it’s really done? 🙂