So after what can only be described as a disastrous 72 hours, my bests were like “Nara, you have GOT to get out there.” There, being the dating world. In my vodka hangover fog of letdown and sadness, I decided that maybe they were right….. The entire concept of dating is just SO weird to me. You are telling me I have to stop Googling “teenie animals being cute,” get dressed, leave my house and go make conversation with a stranger? How does this even make sense? How did I get here (I mean, I “know” how I got here, I got divorced, then the doctah wanted to have a baby, I didn’t, fast forward a bit and here we are)??? And this ACTUALLY works?
As much as I wanted to disagree with them, and let them know that I was positive I would find someone while I was sitting on my couch watching Bravo TV, I couldn’t get one thought out of my mind… I had recently been told I was an “ish” You know, “prettyish, niceish” this was “datingish.” It made me realize that much like my stalker who thinks he knows everything about me I thought I had one thing, and turns out, it was something totally different. It was “ish” They were right. It was time.
Being such a skeptic of online dating, we went through (literally, the only one us assholes could come up with) a few other options. Deciding they were correct, taking a full size ad out in the Boston Globe that said “Date our friend please we are fucking begging you” wouldn’t work, ONLY because people don’t read the paper anymore. Not because that is a totally worthless idea.
So there I was. 22 + 17 years old, in front of my computer, totally not googling “baby bunnies snoring” googling “best dating apps” when this happened.
And then this.
So right out of the gate, things were going swimmingly well.
I decided that clearly the sugar daddy site was the best option for me I may want to dig a bit deeper and get over my insult of being a “cougar.” After doing some looking around, I selected a few sites. As a total sidebar, why isn’t there a dating site linked to my LinkedIn? Do you know how smart that site makes me look? I would be a slam dunk. There would be no “ish” off of that one. Moving on.
After writing my brief “about me” and putting up some pictures of myself from 8 years ago, I was excited to see who my matches would be! My phone instantly blew up with 166 matches. Which, I thought was a bit aggressive, but again, what do I know. Welp, people, let me tell you, it appears that yet again, I am way fucking smarter than the general population, I was right, this online dating thing is nothing short of fucking hysterical.
I started a tally sheet (no, I really did, see).
17 people messaged me to tell me that my name is unique. I finally started messaging back “No it isn’t, it was #3 on the top 100 baby names of 2015, dick.” I mean, there has GOT to be a better opening line, right?
Oh just wait, there sure is! 24 people messaged me with some sort of variation of “you are pretty.” Really, so on the street, you meet someone, and that is your opening line? AND IT WORKS???? More and more I was realizing that I was REALLY out of the game. I was also realizing that saying “Nice profile pic” is like saying “Would you like to get a drink, you seem like a lovely person.”
The people who send awful messages were pretty easy to filter out, but now, it was time to look at some profiles! Because I am a total fucking idiot who has no idea how this game works was really trying to have an open mind, I decided to really look at these fellows, not be my standard critical self, and try to at least attempt to have an open mind (I mean, let’s face the music folks, I wouldn’t be here if the people I met NOT online had worked out). So, while trying to stay positive, and reminding myself that darn it, I am a good catch, I started to look at some profiles. And then I cried. And bought cat litter. Even though I don’t have cats, but clearly, I will soon.
At this point, I was honestly feeling pretty fucking bad for myself. I mean, is THIS what I am destined to? I don’t feel like I am asking for a lot? A partner? A companion? Someone who wants to send me a “hi” text in the morning…. I don’t even need someone there every day (which, I guess I should rethink the airplane driver). But this is my pick? It had to get better ? Nope.
Yup, by this point, I had sweaty pits and had texted the doctah like “So ah, still want to have a baby? Remind me again how pretty and perfect I am and then tell me that someone who isn’t sleepy is going to tell me that.” He was like “New phone, who dis?”
I tried one more time to tell myself to have an open mind, but it came out more like: “Beautiful princess, with golden locks of hair, Nara, you want a companion, this is just a show. A stage.”
So as I shut down these dating sites, I reminded myself “Nara, with the unique name, it could be worse, you could be this.”