It seems a lot of non-Internet daters view us as a generally desperate lot. While desperate correspondence is delivered to my inbox on an almost daily basis, those I’ve met with in real life are generally out to have an interesting time, or a sexy time, or a whatever time. Very few take anything too seriously. Even the pursuit of getting it in, and getting out is a halfhearted one.
As an experiential scholar of Internet dating, it is my privilege to report that two recent dates have drawn my attention to the fact that the desperate population on Internet dating sites lives and breathes amongst us. Proof:
Despite having bid my friend from Christmas eve adieu with an unequivocal rejection, he spent his holiday thinking up things to text me. Beginning with the rooster’s crow at 7:29 am, he wanted to know if I got home safely. His courteous inquiry deserved response, so I thanked him for a lovely evening in strict this-is-the-last-you’ll-hear-from-me fashion.
This was followed up with a hopeful expression of meeting up again, with me, a woman who had 12 hours prior stated the following verbatim: “I am not feeling attracted to you.”
I assume he feared his note lacked the necessity for response, since I did not offer one, so he qualified his expression with a direct question: “are you free tonight?” Any answer to this question would be a waste of thumb muscle when dealing with someone who operates on a no-means-yes schema.
Finally, I am not a fan of the “my parents create awkward situations for me” line of jokes that seem so popular with the kids these days, so when he resorted to this in his next text, my eyes rolled hard. Basically I feel that if two people who you just happened to live with for two decades still have the power embarrass or surprise you, then you are the joke. However, his text reported that his father announced an advantageous relationship with the drug Viagra. I thought to myself that rather being made to feel awkward by this comment from Dad, perhaps he should take note. While this isn't really ha-ha funny, it is funny nonetheless.
P.S. I think his unsolicited kissing gave me the case of acute viral rhinopharyngitis I am battling now with OJ.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Christmas eve with an atheist
I had a Christmas eve drink last night with a West Village, sport-watcher, in-finance man. This is the sort of resume I would normally gloss over, but the enthusiasm of his cover letter was noteworthy, and I called him in for an interview.
What I could of, and perhaps should have done instead:
As with 80% of the men I've gone out with, his choice of venue was within stumble distance of his apartment. And like all the others, the man will end the post-boozy night with startled mention of the proximity, like it's a coincidence. "Hey, you know what? I'm just around the corner if you wanna...." Before continuing my narrative, I will kill the suspense to say that his use of this universal "secret" weapon of the ya ya brotherhood was a failure.
I did not run out the door when he asked me for a second date with a specific time and place five minutes into date one. I was merely thrown off by the unconventional approach and declined, stating I was busy.
Nor did I run out the door 20 minutes later when he invited me to his family's Christmas party in the Bronx. I actually accepted. The foodie in me and the Margaret Mead in me do not decline invitations to Puerto Rican yuletide feasts in far flung boroughs.
Nor did I run out the door when the conversation turned to children, and he wondered without sarcasm whether I would like to have three of his. Nor when he said his self-titled first son would bear the suffix "III." All this amused me greatly.
However...
His emphatic declarations that I am "smoking hot" were beginning to be followed up with unsolicited and overbearing kisses, and like delivery contractions, were coming at increasingly short intervals. While annoying displays, these were not necessary deal breakers. His fate was sealed however at the nature of his aforementioned stumble-distance bedmate bid. Through warped logic, the 37-year old spoke as though a girl would find comfort in the assurance that nocturnal operations would be limited to cuddling in the face of decreased blood circulation to a certain somewhere in his advanced age.
What I could of, and perhaps should have done instead:
As with 80% of the men I've gone out with, his choice of venue was within stumble distance of his apartment. And like all the others, the man will end the post-boozy night with startled mention of the proximity, like it's a coincidence. "Hey, you know what? I'm just around the corner if you wanna...." Before continuing my narrative, I will kill the suspense to say that his use of this universal "secret" weapon of the ya ya brotherhood was a failure.
I did not run out the door when he asked me for a second date with a specific time and place five minutes into date one. I was merely thrown off by the unconventional approach and declined, stating I was busy.
Nor did I run out the door 20 minutes later when he invited me to his family's Christmas party in the Bronx. I actually accepted. The foodie in me and the Margaret Mead in me do not decline invitations to Puerto Rican yuletide feasts in far flung boroughs.
Nor did I run out the door when the conversation turned to children, and he wondered without sarcasm whether I would like to have three of his. Nor when he said his self-titled first son would bear the suffix "III." All this amused me greatly.
However...
His emphatic declarations that I am "smoking hot" were beginning to be followed up with unsolicited and overbearing kisses, and like delivery contractions, were coming at increasingly short intervals. While annoying displays, these were not necessary deal breakers. His fate was sealed however at the nature of his aforementioned stumble-distance bedmate bid. Through warped logic, the 37-year old spoke as though a girl would find comfort in the assurance that nocturnal operations would be limited to cuddling in the face of decreased blood circulation to a certain somewhere in his advanced age.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Still crazy single after all this year
It was nearly a year ago that the Online Dater’s Club was conceived, as I licked my blizzard-time romance wounds over beers with friends doing likewise, discussing the prospect of collectively joining Match.Com and other dating websites. Despite our promises made over a drunken toast, only half of my snow-weary companions followed through that day, while the other half managed to work things out with their current companions from real life, evading this fate.
In the space of 12 months, the way I’ve described my relationship with Internet dating has evolved from anthropological study, to hobby, to actual tool for meeting potential life partners. In other words, I’m a lot less embarrassed now to be doing what I’m doing. While the original intent of this blog was to offer my friends a corner to discuss their dating exploits in a club-like atmosphere, it quickly became apparent that it was a solo mission. However, the act of online dating has made extraordinary strides in social acceptability in the space of a year, and I have become not so lonely in this universe as more of my single friends than I had ever thought possible have taken what I once referred to as “a headline plunge into the masochistic abyss”.
Still, I can’t believe it’s been a year since I sat on the couch with my mother, evading the smoking question on my JDate profile while she watched over my shoulder and put away her freshly used credit card to buy me the potential to go on dates with guys whose last names bear the suffix Stein. As evidenced by her enthusiasm that evening, I imagine her dream for me resembles this tableau:
Unlike many of its contemporaries, ODC had no defined goal, just a vague interest on my part to deliver my thoughts on a modern form of courtship with experiential research as my fodder. While its true the consistency of my writing here has faltered as I've become employed, gone out with dates with men from real life, and have had the opportunity to reach a wider audience, I remain loyal to the forum where it all began.
Whether single and clicking buttons on websites to express interest in other humans, or romantically attached in that superior way of yours to someone met in the real world, I want to thank all my readers . It was you who I thought of and held dear to my heart when on the very worst dates of my life.
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