NTKOG #61: The kind of girl who — you all knew this one was coming — meets someone through an online dating service.
I am: pretty happy being single, and, that aside, difficult for guys to favorably impress at the best of times.
I am not: terribly lucky when it comes to meeting guys on purpose. The only formative and positive relationships of my life have come during times when I was specifically not looking for anyone.
The Scene: OkCupid. I’ve heard great things about sites like eHarmony and Match.com, but at the end of the day, OkCupid is funny, it attracts a younger demographic, and — big point in its favor — it’s free. When I first made my profile, I was totally thrilled: not thousands, sure, but quite a few guys messaged me. Some of them wrote really clever and charming things! And I wrote them back equally clever and charming things! And then … they kept messaging?
After about a week on OkCupid, I realized online dating is way too much work for this girl. It was like having a keychain full of Tamagotchis: cute on the ride home from the store, but then they keep friggin’ wanting you to pay attention to them. I was bored yet flustered and about ready to call it a day, when I got a message from a guy who fulfilled, on paper, every single absurdly specific requirement I have for a man:
Over six feet fall. Culturally Jewish. Well-read. Into wordplay. A PHYSICIST.
I mean, holy shit, right? It’s like someone went through my bizarrely detailed personal want ad and checked every box. I was giddy for days. We messaged back and forth a bit, then started chatting on AIM, and soon we’d set up a date at (sigh!) the Museum of Science.
The day of the date, however, I was hit hard with my standard pre-event ennui. Still, I put on a decent outfit — four-inch heels, no less — and got on the T. Then somewhere along the way, it occurred to me: I haven’t had a first date with anyone since I was 18 years old. I’m … I’m not good at dating. A quick peek into my bag confirmed this. Inside, I was carrying two copies of Oprah Magazine, a blonde wig (explanatory post later), and a circa 1965 single-girl cookbook with the subtitle: “Dazzling Bachelor-Bait Recipes!” Good thing I wasn’t taking in a set of knives to get sharpened, or else I’d probably end up on a national registry somewhere.
When I got to the venerable museum (half an hour late — I hate the green line) and the guy and I met, my terrible-at-dating streak continued. He seemed very nice and we both pretty enthusedly went through the exhibits. But my first-date patter was Lifetime Movie bad. I mean, I kind of came off as a crazy person? Some truly stellar things I revealed within the first hour that I am commemorating here only as advice to you lovely people not to ever use them as first-date ice-breakers:
- I have a thing about people. I don’t like to stand near them, in case they accidentally touch me. (Deals with the first-date kiss dilemma, anyway.)
- I learned to read as a kid by going through my father’s joke books. I know the punchline of every joke ever and I will stop you if I’ve heard it.
- Upon looking at an exhibit of vehicle engines: “I like looking at machines because they animate without any sort of governing magic. So they’re kind of like humans, but at the same time really sort of underscore the patent weirdness of the human experience. Our, y’know, awareness of. Said experience.”
- When I’m trying to do something that you can’t do as well if you’re concentrating on it, I mentally repeat the US presidents in chronological order repeatedly until I am done.
- I’m intensely afraid of fish. And thank god he didn’t want to see the butterfly exhibit so we didn’t have to broach that one as well.
Um, I’ll take “Shit That Makes You Sound Totally Crazy” for $1000, Alex. This would have been much more normal if I had been nervously word-vomming or totally flustered, but I really wasn’t. I was totally confident. I just — I guess I feel like I was trying to throw the fight for some reason. Like, frontloading this hurricane of neuroses to push him away.
Anyway, he wasn’t totally scared away, weirdly. After going through the exhibits, we hung out and chatted for about an hour, and the conversation was nice. He asked if there was anything about him I wasn’t expecting, based on his profile, and I said I thought six feet was a bit taller, then instead of asking him back, I just told him: “I talk more than you thought I would and I’m crazier, right?” To which he replied: “You talk about as much as I thought you would. About different things, though.”
Near the end of the date, I was checking my watch to see if I would make it to a Flip Your Wig pub crawl on time, then told him, “Look, let’s make this an event for the first-date hall of fame — do you mind?” So he held my coat while I went into the ladies’ room and reemerged with a headful of shiny-synthetic cascading blonde curls, then waved goodbye from the foyer (NO TOUCHING!) and dashed out into the rain.
I’m memorable, at least.
The Verdict: Online dating? I take away everything I’ve ever said about it. It seems like a perfectly safe, perfectly pleasant way to meet people whom you already know you have something in common with. As with all dating, just because you have a lot in common with someone obviously doesn’t mean there will be a love connection, but I guess it at least improves your odds. I would online date again. But I wouldn’t do it soon.
I spent yesterday, the day after the date, plunged in a weird quagmire of semi-depression, and not all of it can be blamed on the weirdly muggly coldness eating Boston right now. I realized I was completely terrible on the date because — this is probably a big surprise only to me — I’m not ready to start dating yet. I know I’m only three months out of a very happy four-year relationship, but I thought I was totally healed. I was weirdly, amazingly, inhumanly fine during the break-up. The Ex and I knew we were going to break up for the last six months we lived together, but things never got weird, we stayed in love, and I didn’t cry. Not even once. Not even when I was alone or on the phone with my mother or listening to Postal Service. I was eerily happy the whole time. The only tears I shed throughout the whole demise of my four-year relationship were after dropping him off at the airport on our very last night. Then I took my heartache and put it in a box and forgot about it.
And now, of course, it occurs to me that said box was shipped with the rest of my junk to Boston and very probably it would be in my best interest to unpack it. Not that the break-up itself was so very tempestuous or difficult, but it wasn’t nothing. My zero-tolerance policy for personal weakness (just my own; I’m okay with yours) might be a bit overbearing.
It’s not the break-up, or not just and concretely the break-up. I’m fine with The Ex and I going our separate ways, and I’m happy to be on my own. But when I think about it, I spent four years falling, every day, more in love with the same wonderful man. And he was just one (one very wonderful!) in a series. There has not been a single goddamn minute of my life the past ten years, maybe more, when I have not been or thought I was in love with someone. My adult life has been a sustained hysteria of want. And right now, what I want is not to want anything that requires anybody else.
Which … is a pretty heavy reaction to a single pretty-okay date. So maybe physicist would be right to assume I’m a total crazy person? (Also, ladies who have online dated, what is the protocol for telling someone you’re probably not in a good place for a second date? Do you have to facebook defriend? Why has the internet made etiquette so hard?! Share your thoughts, please!)
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Since I have been married for approximately 237 years, I think any dating advice I could give would be… bad. That said, if you’re not ready to date, don’t. Be upfront with physist dude if he comes back for a 2nd helping of NTKOG and keep developing your friend network in the frozen tundra of the Northeast.
I totally agree about being upfront. Such is my plan.
Also, sorry, but I had to edit out the last portion of your comment. Not because I found it in any way offensive (I thought it was tolerably though not especially amusing), but because I’m trying to keep stuff like my name and university out of the blog for the sake of anonymity.
Although, must point out that: 1) Prestigious West Coast University doesn’t have an abroad program in Prague; 2) the type of behavior you described describes like pretty much any undergrad. I dunno, I don’t get the whole rivalry stuff — even jokey fake rivalry stuff. I loved my undergrad institution more than words, and I hope everyone else feels the same way about their own undergrad institutions. I don’t really feel like anything else needs to be said about it?
Fair enough, sorry. I was just trying to keep things light.
Dear: I’m very excited about the “over 6 feet tall” part of your blog entry. Tall is good. Why you are obsessed with someone “culturally” Jewish I do not understand. You are “Church Of Religious Science (i.e. the only denomination that would christen you on the Pacific Ocean). Biological clocks are running out dear: mine not yours. I don’t wish to be an 80 year old grandmother. Flip that wig out and try again.
Excellent! The best part about you being single (well, besides living within a mile of your dear sister) is that you are now fair game with Mom. She can start ragging on you instead of me. Dude, I was going to go crazy if I heard her say one more time that she’s okay with only having a grand-cat and no grand children from me. Dear Mother: please carry on annoying NTKOG!
Respectfully disagree! C’mon, I get a year of being single before I start getting the grandkid pressure, right?
Besides, she’s really stuck if I don’t end up having kids, ’cause I’m not even getting pets. It’ll just be grand-elephants ahoy-hoy.
*puts on Princess of Online Dating crown* I would wait to see if Mr Physicist calls you again. That’s the time when you’d have to worry about letting him down gently. And don’t be afraid to. Everyone that’s doing online dating is as open-minded to it not working out as you are.
Don’t worry about de-friending unless you want to or feel creeped out. I’m still facebook friends with a couple of guys I met that it didn’t work out with.
You’re NOT a crazy person. I admire how self-aware you are re: the breakup with your ex. Waiting to hear about the blonde wig!
There is absolutely nothing wrong with just letting this guy know you’re not quite ready to be out there again in the dating world- but just don’t try to sugar-coat it with any of that “we can be friends” nonsense. Men know that you’re just trying to let them down easy and be polite when you say that…unless you actually do want to be friends with this guy, but there might be some weirdness there if you attempt it.
By the way, I love your blog and am fascinated by the concept of this project. You’ve inspired me to get out there and try something new every day, especially if it’s not something I’d normally do. Thanks! (And thanks for the brown-sugar body scrub tip, too- it’s great!)
I think you’re right! I was chickening out, but I’m going to go ahead and email him to nip this in the bud, instead of waiting around angsting over whether he’ll try to IM me again. (He did right after the date, and I freaked out and logged out of gchat. Maybe not my most socially optimal move?)
Also, thanks so much for the kind words in re: the blog! I’ve got to say, I’m a big believer in trying to always remember to do something outside the ordinary. It’s amazing how well much of it works out! (And as for the rest of the stuff, you can think to yourself: “Well, at least I know I’m not missing anything!”)
as someone who has been on approximately 29837157236 online dates (seriously: have had toes in the online dating waters since like 2003) i can say that:
a) dates where i thought i was my craziest and oh-my-god-why-did-i-SAY-THOSE-THINGS-OUT-LOUD always ended up with a request for a second date;
b) an honest email / whatever saying you had a lovely time, thank you, but that was your first date since getting out of a relationship and you’re not as ready as you thought you were is completely OK, and not at all bad etiquette
c) online dating appears to be like so many other things (example: ultimate frisbee) that people mock until they try it themselves. and then, hey, it’s actually pretty great. online dating: you meet the same people as real-life dating, except with more screening! frisbee: actually really athletic, and quite fun! why don’t people just believe me when i TELL them these things.. :-)
Whenever you write you make me not so scared to try things and also make me realize stuff about myself (mainly I need to get over my idea that I’m the only one in the world and everyone sees every mistake.) But this really hit home. I never thought of how much I’ve buried my past relationships in an effort to just be “normal”. I think you are an amazing strong person and I love you blog so much!
Thank you so much! I think you’re definitely right about not being the center of the universe — everyone feels that way, but then the more insane stuff you do, the more you realize that other people are so busy being the centers of their universes that they don’t even notice the little stuff you’re doing.
Also, in re: normal, though this is kind of tangential, I read and fell in love with this comic the other day that maaaaay have made me a little misty-eyed. It’s a good reminder about why it’s just not even worth it to expend the energy to try to be “normal”: http://www.viruscomix.com/page500.html
First, +50 for a Tamagotchi reference. But second, those “stellar things” seemed less like crazy and more like opportunities for wordplay and banter.
“Flip that wig out and try again”.
Your. Mom. Rules.
haha, I know, right?! Words cannot even convey how FRIGGIN’ PSYCHED I am that she’s guest-posting on Thursday!
Cheers to confronting your feelings about the Ex. That’s a very big girl thing to do and very difficult. Admitting that you were in love once doesn’t need to be admitting that you should always be in love with that person– or that the love can’t be transformed to another form of love– like friendship.
Did he ask for a second date? If you aren’t ready, tell him, preferably in the exact same manner in which you told us. I’m sure he’d understand, and probably be grateful that you didn’t leave him hanging.
He did end up asking for a second date on the very day I posted this. And I followed everyone’s excellent advice and was upfront with him and told him, basically, “I thought I was ready to date, but actually going out there made me realize my feelings about my break-up were more complicated than I had thought. I had a really nice time, but it wouldn’t be fair to either of us for me to pursue anything until I’m in a better place.”
It was weirdly TOTALLY NOT AWKWARD. He actually told me that he’d suspected I’d say something like that, as it seemed like I was a little distant during the date. Interesting.
It was amazing to be able to be so upfront though. I have a really, really hard time saying no or putting myself out there in social situations, and I was amazed by how easy it was. Definitely NTKOG learning experience!
“My adult life has been a sustained hysteria of want. And right now, what I want is not to want anything that requires anybody else.”
I see myself mirrored in this comment. My boyfriend of 3 years broke up with me a few months ago, and I decided to move halfway across the country soon after. Now I find myself alone for the first time in 8 years, and it’s odd. I feel like I should want to find a new guy, but I’ve come to realize that I’m truly not interested in anyone. Also, over the past month or so, I’ve discovered that I enjoy my life a lot more when I’m not constantly hunting for my next prey.