“It could have been forever but we’ll never know, 24 hours ago. The night was all we had and then I had to go, 24hours ago. We were lovers, Just 24 hours ago”
As quickly as online relationships start, they end. Guess that term “relationship” loosely applies to chats instigated by horny individuals who shower you with equal parts compliment and lust.
Based on his pictures, profiles and solicitations of arrogance you proceed to either message or block him. You coyly yet assertly reply in hopes that this dude is more social media awkward than skeevy.
A slew of messages determine whether or not you feel comfortable with the dude having your phone number— and thus a permanent life line to your person. (I mean who isn’t on or near their phone 24/7 nowadays?) Even more, you wonder if this analog is the potential gentleman sent to wine and dine your or if he’s an avatar with mischievous intentions.
In all honesty you can be whoever you want to be online, fluctuating between all different personalities in your characters. Confident, sassy, shy, vixen, nerd, professor, mom, siren, simple, complicated, funny, serious; your attitude is the unexpected bridge in that addictive melody through you deplore the lyrics.
For men though, this is probably the first time they’ve been invited to joust. The competition’s stiff, but they still win even if they forfeit the match. Prowling through profiles like fingers flitting through a magazine, approving pictures before content, writing guttural reactions to the images before the brain can process that an (emotional) human being waits on the other side of their comments. I’ve already discussed my initial experience with OKCupid! but I never talked about the four dudes lucky enough to get my number.
Dungeons and Dragons:
I mentioned D&D briefly in my first post. This guy messaged me 4-5 times a day, treating my inbox like an SMS receiver. He was cool to chat with but after a month of back and forth, I was waiting for an introduction to social activities (i.e. dating). Finally, I got tired of his self-proclaimed title of Mr. Awesome, and decided to challenge said title as a figment of cyberspace. Gauntlet thrown, challenge accepted. He asks for my number (which I telepathically believe and stated that he wanted for a long time).
First text: “I’ve been wanting your number for a long time, eh? You’re a little too confident in your swag. You’ve only recently gotten my full attention”.
Bold move, Mr. Dragons. You clown me as an acceptance speech to my numerical prize? Who in the name of PlayStation do you think you are? Not to be bested by rudeness, I reply.
Me: “If you can believe you’re captain of the awesome committee, I can believe my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard.”
About a month more of this flirty, nonchalant banter ensues before I realize this dude is never going to ask me out. His years of playing card games with other pock-ridden boys has addled this brain to make him believe that the most effective strategy is defense—even when it comes to women. Well here’s one woman who won’t ask a guy out on a first date.
I closed out our chat session in a very dude-like fashion.
“Yo D&D, it’s been real but peace out. Lose my number”.
I know he was butt-hurt by the abrupt finality in his response.
“Damn doll, it’s like that? I was trying to do you a favor.”
This guy messaged me with the right mix of self-assurance and complement that I agreed to feel him out though I didn’t think it would work. He did all the right things by actually reading my profile, chatting appropriately, and eventually asking me out on a date. We agreed on mini golf that Sunday, and I gave him my number. He never calls, never text, looked at my profile three times, but never followed through with our plans. Instead this man has the nerve to text me four days after our failed date to say “Hi”.
Sir, do you realize your whole life has been deleted? You didn’t even apologize with an apology. No boo, you text me as if nothing happened; sending out a feeler message to see how badly you f’ed up.
And to think I picked out an outfit.
I am equal opportunity dater but don’t let me fake like Black, White, Latino aren’t my preference—but only because I’m familiar. I pretty much know what to expect.
When T.I. messaged me, I agreed to keep an open mind. When I gave him my number I secretly hoped to check him off my bucket list. He seemed nice, normal, but then he’d start sending me pics and comic MSMs throughout the day. No caption, no purpose, just wasted bandwidth. When we did eventually meet he brought his rented dog, who he says doesn’t like black people, refused to feed me though the original plan to meet was for dinner, and showed a picture of himself on his phone that his friends think makes him look like a rapist.
Sir, I just met you and now you’ve flinted images of me hog-tied to a memory foam mattress and planning escape.
He proceeds to dominate the conversation and cut me off when I try to make a comment. Then you tell me that the reason we can’t have dinner is because the chef won’t cook with the same passion that you will if I have dinner at your place. I’m sure the chef wont cook with roofies either, but I keep my mouth shut. He also tells me that we should go to the shooting range so that he can see if I can handle a loaded weapon (overt rapist innuendo alert).
Me: “I prefer hand-to-hand combat”.
Him: “You think you can take me?”
Me: *Chuckles*”don’t get it twisted this is all lean muscle”.
Him: “Don’t make me put you in a choke hold and find out if your hair is real.”
Me: *Speechless* “umm… what time is it? So I think I should go because I have to wake up early for work… no don’t walk me to my car… no I won’t be answering your calls”.
This guy seemed promising: an architect, God fearing, ability to make cheesy lines sound charming. That is until he introduced his other head, the one below the belt. And these are the texts…
Him: Send me a sexy picture
Me: Sorry no sexting before monogamy
Him: It’s not sexting if you’re fully clothed
Me: Do you like sports?
Him: I’d be really intrigued if you could fit me in your whole mouth
Me: NCAA? You watch the Ohio game?
Him: Come give me a massage
Me: Did you watch the MMA match with Gina Carano?
Him: Let’s take a bath together…
Me: Are you 14? Most 28 year olds can control themselves…
Safe to say he was also deleted. I had to say that I’m not a 1900 number, and his free trail is over.
Yo, if you’re gonna proposition a woman, at least have a price in mind. You wanna treat me like a pro than punt the paper over the p—- like a field goal, and let me decide if the price is right. At least if I was giving it up like that a student loan would get paid around this piece.
As you can imagine, I deleted my account. I’m not sure if online dating is for me. I may be tired of dating games but the blunt agenda of online dating is too liberal for my tastes. If this is my reintroduction to the dating pool than I politely remove my toes from the water.
Readers: Have you ever tried online dating? Any luck? Good/bad experiences don’t forget to share in the comments box.