I signed myself up for an online dating service. Well, I’m not going to be coy about it – even an attractive girl like me, needs help.
Ok ok….this is something that’s not recent. I signed up years back, plotting revenge on an ex-boyfriend who had signed up there. Sorry, A – now you know. I did it out of spite, never intending to actually go out with any of the men off there. But I did – a few times.
For those of you who are totally not into this, this is the process:
Ok ok….this is something that’s not recent. I signed up years back, plotting revenge on an ex-boyfriend who had signed up there. Sorry, A – now you know. I did it out of spite, never intending to actually go out with any of the men off there. But I did – a few times.
For those of you who are totally not into this, this is the process:
1. Sign yourself up
Fill in the blanks. Age, stats, likes/dislikes, what sort of a person you want, etc, blah, blah, blah.
2. Submit a photo and an introduction of yourself plus what you want out of the guy, in detail.
These need to be approved by the site. In case you put up some pornographic pictures or some private information that is not allowed, though I think pornography will bring all the boys to the yard….
3. And then you wait.
I didn’t put up a picture then – of course not, I’m plotting revenge, remember? Before long I saw that some men were looking at my profile but no one sent me messages. It was cold out there in cyberspace. Then I thought, “Hmm…let’s put up a picture..” I did and that was when requests to chat starting coming in.
I chatted with a few of them. We got along well online so I decided to take the next plunge and meet some of them. Turned out to be TOTALLY anti-climatic. The men were like pieces of limp, dirty rags, with real personalities of nothingness. Most of them wanted to jump into bed, some too big for their own shoes (talking of ships when they are and will stay, mere sampans) and others, just plain, ugh!
I remember going to MOS with one of my dates. He was supposed to pick me up from my place. Michael, his name. He got lost and arrived an hour late. I saw his car and my heart sank immediately. It was a white, pseudo sports car – YUCK. I hate white cars and wannabes. But being of a generous soul, I bit back my instinct and swallowed the bile threatening to creep up my oesophagus. In the car, conversation was all about me! Me! ME! Not me, me. Him, him. My eyes watered and glazed over – he, no doubt, thought my shining eyes and attentive listening, signalled interest. I was more like, “What the fuck was I thinking?! I should have switched my mobile off and ran towards freedom!”
He knew the bartender at MOS and without asking my preference, ordered drinks for us. Some wussy mixer drink that was made extra strong, I suspect (at that time), to impress me. I wanted to move on to the dance floor but he insisted on another drink. Same wussy drink, down the hole. I had 2 drink coupons from the paid entry; I used one of it and started towards Smoove. It was crowded there, as I knew it would be. Holding the drink in my hand, I started moving to the beat. He excused himself to the toilet. I waited, enjoying myself, listening to the music. Seconds ticked by, then minutes, then more than 10 minutes. Concerned, I started ringing Michael’s number. It rang but he didn’t answer. Waited for a bit and rang. Again, no answer. Oh well, shit happens. So yes, I got “dumped” in the middle of the date. No big deal, I moved to the Main Area. Got myself another drink and brought it to the dance floor where I met 2 gorgissss Puerto Rican Melbournites, where we grooved the night away.
So it worked out in my favour. Michael sent me an sms the next day, saying that he went back to the car to rest and fell asleep. I suspect that his bravado drinking was to get me drunk – well, honey, I hold my drink well – can’t say the same about you, babe.
I am still subscribed to this online dating service. I’m just intrigued as to what drives these men to be “here”, wearing their hearts on their sleeves. I’ve since taken my photo off and changed the introduction bit. I don’t go out with strange men anymore – I can’t really be bothered to pretend to be interested. I do get the weekly updates of men who may be of interest to me but really, with their boring introductions of ** “I’m just a simple man looking…”, “shy when you first know me but chatty when I’m comfortable..” and “I’m kind, caring, understanding…” why would I bother? Which moron would go online saying that they are horny bastards? But really, how about something more than the ordinary? Tell us things we do not already know.
Petal P. Rose
I remember going to MOS with one of my dates. He was supposed to pick me up from my place. Michael, his name. He got lost and arrived an hour late. I saw his car and my heart sank immediately. It was a white, pseudo sports car – YUCK. I hate white cars and wannabes. But being of a generous soul, I bit back my instinct and swallowed the bile threatening to creep up my oesophagus. In the car, conversation was all about me! Me! ME! Not me, me. Him, him. My eyes watered and glazed over – he, no doubt, thought my shining eyes and attentive listening, signalled interest. I was more like, “What the fuck was I thinking?! I should have switched my mobile off and ran towards freedom!”
He knew the bartender at MOS and without asking my preference, ordered drinks for us. Some wussy mixer drink that was made extra strong, I suspect (at that time), to impress me. I wanted to move on to the dance floor but he insisted on another drink. Same wussy drink, down the hole. I had 2 drink coupons from the paid entry; I used one of it and started towards Smoove. It was crowded there, as I knew it would be. Holding the drink in my hand, I started moving to the beat. He excused himself to the toilet. I waited, enjoying myself, listening to the music. Seconds ticked by, then minutes, then more than 10 minutes. Concerned, I started ringing Michael’s number. It rang but he didn’t answer. Waited for a bit and rang. Again, no answer. Oh well, shit happens. So yes, I got “dumped” in the middle of the date. No big deal, I moved to the Main Area. Got myself another drink and brought it to the dance floor where I met 2 gorgissss Puerto Rican Melbournites, where we grooved the night away.
So it worked out in my favour. Michael sent me an sms the next day, saying that he went back to the car to rest and fell asleep. I suspect that his bravado drinking was to get me drunk – well, honey, I hold my drink well – can’t say the same about you, babe.
I am still subscribed to this online dating service. I’m just intrigued as to what drives these men to be “here”, wearing their hearts on their sleeves. I’ve since taken my photo off and changed the introduction bit. I don’t go out with strange men anymore – I can’t really be bothered to pretend to be interested. I do get the weekly updates of men who may be of interest to me but really, with their boring introductions of ** “I’m just a simple man looking…”, “shy when you first know me but chatty when I’m comfortable..” and “I’m kind, caring, understanding…” why would I bother? Which moron would go online saying that they are horny bastards? But really, how about something more than the ordinary? Tell us things we do not already know.
Petal P. Rose
**believe it or not, these are actual self introductions – totally not made up!
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