I’m looking for someone beautiful: a strange introduction to online dating

I don’t know if I have mentioned this, but I’ve entered the world of online dating.

It’s been only a few days and already I have a question, why would you write, “I’m looking for a good looking (or attractive or pretty or beautiful) lady/girl/woman.”

Really? Oh it’s really good you clarified, because I thought you were out looking for the ugliest person out there. I think this is an issue for three reasons

1. The first is a complete lack of interest of getting to know someone
2. You force people to decide whether they think they are good looking. Do I think am I pretty enough to message this kind-of skinny, gapped toothed dude?
3. Makes women feel terrible when you don’t message them back because they will have assumed it has nothing to do with what they’ve said and everything to do with how they look — and most women I know already have enough body image issues.

This is good, I’ve already narrowed down the pool of people I’m willing to message or accept messages from.

I expect the online-dating world of Plenty of Fish to be an endless source of things to write about. Here fishy, fishy, fishy.

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Hey baby, want to see my cave?

You know the dating situation is your town is bad news when a friend of a friend finds a personal ad online that reads, “vegan, unemployed, poly-amourous” and decides to go on the date anyway.

Did I mention that this woman is a hard-core feminist?

I chuckled when the story was related to me a couple of weeks later over breakfast with a mutual friend. To be honest I was thinking, who would take anyone up on that – and what kind of idiot thinks he’d pick up a decent, smart woman with that as a starting point.

Then it was my turn.

I’ve been flirting with this guy back and forth for a couple of weeks. He’s not my type, preferring full-contact sports and excessive drinking to reading and conversation, but he’s cute and sweet. I gave him my number. He’s ignored it for weeks. I went through the range of, confusion, anger, upset and finally not caring, all the while continuing to flirt. Then this week, he decides that we should hang out.

I’d hate to mock someone, especially if they are shy and genuinely like a person, but I’m willing to make an exception in this case.

“Hey, so I’m thinking we should hang out this weekend, what about Friday night.”

A fairly decent start and I was starting to think that something could be worked out. I was about to open my mouth to tell him yes, when he kept talking.

“I’m thinking I could be there by around 10 p.m. … and I’ll probably be pretty drunk, so I’ll have to take a cab.”

I just stared. Is this the Neanderthal version of my future dating life?

For a moment, a very, very brief moment I considered it, then my brain kicked in.

I realized he pretty much said, ‘hey baby, I want to come by your house in the middle of the night, drunk, so we can have sex.”

At the time I didn’t say anything, I think my brain was trying to figure out some way to comprehend how in any way his offer was, in any way, acceptable … so he winked and walked away.

I look forward to explaining to him why I won’t be available that Friday or really any day into the future.

Is this really the new mating ritual? I’m as much a modern and independent woman as the next girl, but whatever happened to dating, class, chivalry? Should women really have to look forward to being clubbed over the head and dragged off the cave with the drunken, unemployed or multi-partnered idiot? Say it ain’t so…

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It’s easy, just sleep

Right after people stopping to ask me, why I am still at work … I love people suggesting how to fall asleep.

So I’m at work — overtime as usual, but the good news is I don’t have a lot else going on right now — and someone stops by, like they do all day every day to talk. As the day goes on, they stop more frequently.

“What are you still doing here?”

It takes a lot of restraint to not say, “Really? Cause there’s a solid chance I’d be done and home right now, if you stopped talking to me.”

I really do love my job, I just have to start loving it in smaller amounts because it is affecting my ability to sleep — working 10 to 12 hour day, come work and work from blackberry, lay in bed at night and think about what I still need to do.

“Just push everything from your mind then you’ll fall asleep.”

This is what people keep telling me.

“Of course, nearly four weeks of steady insomnia and that’s all that I needed to do. Thanks for pointing that out.”

I guess that’s how I can tell I’m growing up — I never say any of this out loud. I just smile. Actually at this point I think the smile is permanently screwed into place, I don’t have the energy for much other facial expression.

Alright, I’m heading to bed to lay awake, stare at the ceiling and try to figure out where my life went a little off the rails.

Goodnight.

 

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