Dating Chronicles: Online Dating/Slow Death

Picture it. Sicily. 1926. I’m a young woman crying into my meat sauce because I’m unhappy with my father’s choice of husband for me but what can I do? I just keep stirring. And crying.

Except no. I’ve just always wanted to ‘Pull a Sophia’. If you don’t know which Sophia I’m referring to...I’m SO sorry for you.

I was nowhere near alive in 1926 and my father would never arrange a marriage for me. I don’t know his exact feelings on the topic but I’d guess he (like me) has completely given up on me finding love. Oh, gosh I hope he’s not still hopeful. Are my parents still hopeful? Do they think I’m going to find someone? Are they praying for me to find a husband????? Oh, gosh, oh, gosh, I hope not. I’d feel so bad for the inevitable disappointment.

Anyway, back to the point. I don’t live in the age of arranged marriages (not in my country/region/culture/family anyway). I live in the dreaded era of ONLINE DATING! Cue horror music!

If I wrote a blog post for each experience…well, let’s just say, “Ain’t nobody got time for that”.

So here’s a painful list I’ve compiled painfully about my painful dating life.

1. The Chastity Belt: His profile says he’s looking for a woman to hold the key to his chastity belt. I instantly fall in love with the witty humor. We exchange a few messages and I suggest we meet for drinks. He says, “Before we do, you should check my profile again.” I furrow my brow in confusion but oblige and check out his profile. Next to his request for a chastity belt key holder he writes in parentheses: This is not a joke. I’m really looking for someone to hold the key. I need someone to fully control me. He then proceeds to send me pictures of these chastity belts (which are nothing like what I’d expect). They were more like ball clamps that look powerful enough to castrate the strongest of dicks. Drinks were not had.

2. The 1st of About 12: We met online. Exchanged numbers and witty banter. We plan a date. I text: Excited to see you. He texts back: Excited to see YOU *wink wink wink wink* He doesn’t show. HE DOESN’T FUCKING SHOW. Has the balls to apologize and the audacity to try and reschedule. I’m disgusted so I … reschedule. He doesn’t show again.

3. The Closet: We met online. He was the first white guy to ever really hit on me. My initial reaction was, “Who is this white boy tryna talk to me?” We exchanged messages, wasn’t long until I realized, “Oh, shit, he’s perfect.” That was startling. We exchanged numbers, texts, phone calls, went on dates…it was time for it to go down. I snuck him into my house when my kid was asleep. We ended up making out in my closet. My kid caught us. Fucked things up pretty bad with that one. Perfect man pretty much ghosted me since then and my son gives me wicked side eye. I’ve been hooked on white guys ever since and I just can’t shake it!!!! It’s awful. Next week I should blog about red heads. They deserve their own blog! My kid has since forgiven me, btw. There was a lot of bribery involved but...whatever works! No more boys in the closet. 

4. The Other Closet: We met online. He fell for me QUICK. We spent a LOT of time together. First date was perfect. Second date…I started crying it was going so well which is crazy but he appreciated it. We spent MORE time together. I started to pick up on things…gay things. Basically, he was gay, like, super fucking in the closet trying to date and cover it up (in fucking 2013) gay. I tried to back out gracefully. I didn’t want to say, “You share a bed with your ‘roommate’ and I’m not that progressive yet to be okay with whatever the fuck is going on here.” I gave the usual “it’s me, not you” routine but he wasn’t having it. His “love” was strong. *eye roll* I had to just come out and say it, “Dude, I think you’re gay!” His response, “I swear, why does everyone say that!?!”

5. Repeat Number 2

6. The Black Academic/Poet/Panther: We met online. Lots of messages, lots of witty banter. LOTS of big words being thrown to and fro. (Is that how you say that? To and fro?) Idk. Anyway. I’m thinking oooooooweeeee this is exciting! Returning to my beautiful Black roots. I miss Black…hands. I casually mention how I’ve been dating mostly white guys lately. Instant rejection. He can’t “get down with a sista that would be with a white dude.”

7. The Short and Sweet: yo, sup, hey, dick pic, hi, what’s good, sup, hey, hi, yo, dick pic, sup

8. The Republican: This actually led to the best sex of my life…then I found out he was engaged. That’s a thing that happens.

9. Repeat Number 7

10. Repeat Number 8 (except a married Democrat).

 God, it’s wonderful.