So I thought things were starting to look up in the old dating scene. I began chatting with a guy online and he seemed totally normal. We had some good witty banter going back and forth so I decided to take it to the next level: the meet up.
When we met up in a loud, crowded bar, I was surprised. This guy was actually cute. I mean cuter than his pictures even. (In online dating land I have learned this doesn't happen. Ever.) So I was pleasantly surprised. We spent the night dancing and yelling mumbo jumbo at each other over the blaring beats of Kanye. Ahh, romance at its best. And when we left the dark bar and hit streetlight I was reassured that even with my drunk goggles, he was still cute. Thus leading us to date number two.
Date number two took place at a much quieter location at a hip lounge. We were sipping on martinis and I was revelling in how well the date was going, when it happened. He brought up the dreaded ex-factor. I quickly learned that his most recent break-up occurred three days prior. I thought that was strange, considering we'd been talking online for weeks at this point. I was about to question him on this time overlap when I was faced with the most horrifying display from a grown man. The ugly cry. I'm not talking about one lonely tear trickling down his cheek. I'm talking big, loud, wet, sobs combined with full body convulsions and head thrashing.
Okay, so I did it.
No, not that perv... I went on a blind date. And it was all that I could have hoped for and more. As a writer that is, because there will never be a second date with this guy. For sake of privacy (for all the guys who I encounter) I will change his name. So let's call him Kyle.
Kyle suggested that we meet up for our first date at a Mexican restaurant in between where we both live. I agreed, as I'm a big fan of spicy food and this place is known for some epic guac.
We sat, we did the pleasantries, I noticed he was 10 lbs heavier than the photo I'd seen, and he hadn't had a haircut probably since that picture had been taken four years ago. I decided to stay for the guac.
After I'd ordered myself a fishbowl margarita and some chicken burrito thing I asked him where his favorite place in the world was. He said it was his cottage and I was thrilled- I also have a cottage and it's my favorite place too! Yay, bonding.
But as I dug a teeny bit deeper, he literally dug a lot deeper and told me in great lengths about how he and his father took on a project of building an outhouse for their cottage. I tried to smile politely through my mouthful of refried beans.
Okay, cut to 45 minutes later, my food was mostly uneaten (as it now reminded me of the bottom of an outhouse), and I was three fishbowl margarita's deep. I kept desperately trying to change the subject.... the weather, the Blue Jays, anything really other than outhouses, but this guy was passionate about poop.
When I finally realized that another stinky story or ounce of tequila was going to make me yak, I not-so-convincingly faked a migraine and booked it.
He's texted me a few times to set up another date, but I've told him I'm a lady, and I didn't appreciate the dirty talk.
Okay, so I never thought I'd be one to try online dating... but here I am. Twenty-five, living back at home, and looking for love. The awkward profile is made and the fact that it is free allows me to feel like it's less pathetic. That's right, this girl doesn't need to pay to find love.
However, the free dating sites (aka POF) are notorious for attracting some major freaks. So I have already had to plow through countless messages that make me question the male species as a whole.
Here's one message I especially enjoyed: "I'd like to fall asleep with your mouth around my c*@k."
Yup. All the single ladies, look out. We've got a charmer on our hands. Or in our mouths as he would prefer. The scary fact is that I receive so many messages similar to this one, that I can only assume that sometimes lines like this actually work. On who, I haven't the foggiest.
That being said, after sifting out the crazies (99% of my flooded inbox) I am left with some hope that there may be a few normal guys online like me. I figure I'm normal and looking online, so there has got to be the male equivalent of me out there....
And, if not, I can always get some juicy writing material. I figure a good date is a good thing, and a date gone sour is good entertainment so also a good thing! Here lies the eternal optomist!
So cyber space.... I am ready to take on plenty of freaks!
Game on....
i'm 25 years old
and i had to move back home.
i swear i'm not pathetic,
i have lived out on my own.
it's just that every time i save
i like to spend it all,
on fancy trips across the globe
that is my one downfall.
so back to school once again
but now i'm called a "grad"
and hoping living with the rents
won't be entirely bad.
there's really only one dilemma
to this master plan.
how can i date or rather mate
when i'm living with the fam clan?
