In an update from last time, I have recently been flirting (badly) with online dating. It was a kind of experiment on myself: a challenge to the sentiments of my last blog.
The things that sparked this decision were threefold:
- I thought it might make an interesting blog (although maybe I am wrong...feel free to correct me).
- I hate dating and like to challenge myself occasionally. I figured it would be good practise for some future point in time when I may want to put myself through this ordeal properly.
- Peer pressure. Well...not pressure so much as the thought being gently put in my head. I know a lot of people who are dating, and a few who met their partners online. Some love it; some have hilarious anecdotes which might be worth all the crazy involved. Perhaps it would be good for me too.
So I joined Tinder first. The reasoning behind this was that I didn't have to care about any of those people because they were Tinder people. They probably didn't care either.
But my phone mysteriously rejected it after two days and only one "I'm looking for sex. Interested?" It clearly wasn't meant to be.
But not one to give up at the first hurdle, I joined OKCupid instead. This was a bit more serious. I had to answer questions about myself, make lists of my favourite things, decide what I was looking for...basically market myself properly.
Here is the first problem: everyone sounds the same when they write a profile. Everyone loves travelling; everyone likes To Kill a Mockingbird; everyone is learning to play the guitar; everyone loves their job and hanging out in Shoreditch; everyone has a picture of them with a dog.
I started off saying the person I was looking for would be nice, and fun. After a couple of messages and dates experience I added the following: someone who does not spend their life with their phone in their hand; someone who is ok with me not being ok with PDA; someone who would rather play ping-pong/go climbing/ice-skating than go for another drink.
But what about me? What did I write about myself?...Well, I'll get to that later and tell you what you actually want to hear first.
The Messages: (Some quotes)
"Hey! How r u?"
"Do you like tall men?"
"You do realise your clothes make you look 40 right?"
"How are you making that camel laugh like that?"
"Where do you climb trees? Will you show me?"
"Is this the first message you have got?"
"I once tried a beer called Herpes. I've had cold sores ever since."
The Dates: (Some notes)
- Met on Southbank and had a drink in a pub. I was successfully late (a good start) and spotted man in a blue hat. Not attractive at all which was a relief for date number 1. Didn't have to be nervous. He had just come from a funeral: spent the first 15 minutes talking about death. Suspect he is pretty intense at best of times. Spoke about ourselves a bit. He has PHD in biochemistry. Must try to make myself seem less directionless and invent some kind of ambition. He would not tell me where he was from and made me guess by asking non-geographical questions. "Show me your national dance?" "What are your main exports?" "Left or right wing?" Finally guessed Portugal (correctly) after asking football based question (shocking!). I know all about Portugal now. Didn't reply to his message. Didn't see him again.
- Met in Shoreditch for drink and game of pool. He was nice, interesting and very tall. In a goofy kind of way but that's fine. Good chat, liked each other. Moved to other pub. Realised he had been to the loo way more than me. Weird. Felt smug for choosing whiskey over beer. At some point realised he had edged around the table and was sitting too close to me. Informed him I didn't like public displays of affection. After he tried to convince me that no one cares for long enough that I felt bad arguing, I allowed him to kiss me. Hated myself for giving in. Was confused by manner of kissing. Wondered if I should tell him. Didn't. Said goodbye and laughed all the way home. Tried to organise second date (he was nice after all) but had conflicting schedules. He re-arranged twice before I told him it wasn't going to happen. Ain't nobody got time fo' that!
- Freaked out in advance because I knew he was a classical guitarist and I got it into my head he would have talons for fingernails on one hand. Met for a walk to Highgate and spent a lot of time trying to see his hand. Failed. Had tea and cake and discussed fingernails. Not as bad as imagined. Still... Was nice. Had comforting Northern accent. Only replied to text to say it was nice to meet him too.
- Bastard didn't turn up. Thank God I arranged it near my house and had a lovely walk across the Heath instead.
Shortly after this I deleted my account. I came to the conclusion that I don't like strangers. Why would I date them? Also, knowing I don't like dating, why would I put myself through that just for practise? Stupid idea.
The thing is, it actually matters very little what I wrote about myself, I don't want to feel like a check-list. Small: yes. Has hobbies: yes. Like Nick Cave and dogs: yes.
No. I don't really want someone who wants me because of those things. They are surface. I'm also a directionless, emotionally-challenged, bad cook who talks to myself and pays someone to fix my bike when I get a puncture. I wonder what response I would get if I wrote that...and all the rest.
So experiment conducted and hypothesis proven: not for me. In addition, and without much concern for when, if something is going to happen, it'll happen. If not, I have some friends who'll play ping-pong with me instead.
