Well folks, you are hearing it here first (unless you’ve been speaking with my Mother), I’ve returned to the world of internet dating.
It ain’t pretty, it certainly ain’t fun, and I would probably have more success if I stopped saying ain’t. Since my arrival in Victoria I have been out with two “gentlemen”. One was nice, the other was nicer. Neither will be the future Mr. Sarah’s Husband.
To be honest, I’m not even sure I’m ready to date. Dating for me is like drinking a can of insta-awkward. It’s painful, hurts my stomach, and is extremely damaging to my self esteem (despite my “having a smile that makes a man sit back and sigh”).
I don’t like it and I don’t know why I’m doing it.
Still, there are some perks to internet dating. Receiving messages complimenting my smile or my stunning wit are great for an ego boost (though the poor spelling and grammar makes my eyes bleed). And the constant comic relief is a wonderful distraction from the real world. Would you like me to give some examples?
Of course you would.
So, for your reading pleasure, I bring to you the highlights of my internet dating life:
Let’s start with the first message I received …
Direct Quote: Heyy girl! Howz it goin? Your pretty … chat?”
With a lead like that, how could I resist reading the profile? This charmer was looking for someone “genuinne to Hang Out with. You kno, a reel girl who wants more then a relation-ship with her mirror”.
Then there was the oh-so memorable drunk dial:
“Hey Sarah. Where you at? Let’s go for a walk MOTHERFUCKER! Peace.”
Mr. D-D and I were supposed to meet for a walk and talk on Saturday, but our evening was cancelled when he hurt himself at work. I gave him my number so that we could work out a new time to meet … Apparently midnight on a Monday seemed ideal.
And lastly, possibly the most unfortunate highlight, is a story that requires some background.
While perusing my “July 3rd Matches” I found a man I had a crush on all through middle school and for the first few years of High School. If you knew me in High School, you know I definitely never had the balls to approach my dream boy. No, mine was an unrequited and unknown love … restricted to longing gazes from across the cafeteria.
But no more! Not only was he online, but we were compatible! The internet told me we would make a great match, and I believed it! With visions of a town house in Colwood and a wonderful wedding speech that tactfully left out any mention of PoF I bravely sent him a message.
My opening line? A crack about the Toronto Maple Leafs. Yes, it’s true. I initiated contact with the man of my dreams by insulting his favourite hockey team. In my defence, the only people under 40 who like the Leafs are those who were born in Toronto or enjoy being made fun of.
Still, it was probably not my proudest moment.
This might have been recoverable had I said something even remotely interesting in the rest of the message. No, instead of saying something witty to make myself stand out from the other ladies I went on to say that “I didn’t actually expect a reply, am pretty generic, and find internet dating has allowed me to master the ellipses”.
Apparently my tendencies towards self sabotage extend to the internet.
Well … at least I didn’t ask him what he thought our babies would look like.
EDIT: Thank you, Davie. I now have a glimpse of what might have been …