“Hey guys I need your
tinder/Internet dating horror stories or gushy romantic stories! Go!”
This is a recollection from three years ago, similar
season. On OKCupid as the medium. Determined to set up funny profile because I
didn’t really take the whole process seriously, and I’m half-comedian. Or is it
quasi-comedian? Anyway, I’m not trying
to be funny anymore. I think that mostly
what is funny is pure honesty, so if I was funny at all it was because I found
that place of pure honesty. I think that
when you set out on the act of constructing a profile, like ‘this is what I
want the world to know how I see myself.’ How
is it that a personally subjective thing that I call a face is agreed upon
with someone else when I describe it?
And aren’t you (when online dating) working in a system where all of
these digital relationships are some sort of complex delusional construct? New age navigating a sorting mechanism, and
aren’t there enough deluded people out-there in the market? I’m getting off track. Her name was (let’s say…) Brita, but to me
she was Brita II, and likely of comparison due to unlikely circumstances,
(let’s say…) a Bart tattoo, somehow identical to yet another person I decided I
liked better over fragments of time.
Maybe life is like a mandala or mosaic from the outside? It’s not always crystal clear, unless it just
came through a Brita filter, I swear I’m not sponsored. And unlike these online relationship compilers
want you to believe, they are not intergalactic robot Cupid, they are just OK.
The first filter put up is proximity, but what if the love of your life
is not exactly where you are? (In Paris
or the stars…) But that’s only if you
believe in true, hilarious love. If you
(who?) are like most people you’ll settle for less (than the truth). Sometimes I feel like I’ll never settle (not
in a bad way). Is that not prudent?
The first Brita I met in BaAlexandria, and she’d come over to the
restaurant where I worked after work.
She worked in some state department where she got Colin Powell’s
autograph in a book for her dad. She was
a big Polish freak and I loved her, but I wasn’t happy with myself most of the
time, I was still learning a lot, transitioning through some sort of youth in
Old Town. And I couldn’t stop
freaking! (And not just exclusively…) I maintain that the best dating site is still
whatever street you’re on. And in fact,
when Brita II and I started talking this was at a random house party where I
recognized her from her online profile.
I used the dating site as a networking
tewl after the fact, and had a proper online date, complete with pre-recorded
profile talking points. She wanted everyone
to stop fracking.
I remember another filter they put
up is how DTF you say you are. Christian
Mingle OKCupid is not; and debutantes these
ain’t. More a shallow sea of
lower order control freaks who like to swing their hot messes. I’m one to talk. Apparently a Bart tattoo is common. I don’t
have any tattoos because I don’t like pricks or Burns. I can’t remember if I ate her shorts (like
candy) or just took them off, but one thing led to another and before I know it
she’s gushing in my mouth, sorry not sorry she does that. Kind of gross; kind of hot:: kind of warm;
kind of a lot. I didn’t have a serious
fetish for that (yet…). But her chest tattoo was practically identical to this
guitarist’s from RoOKlyn I hooked up with one night after her show and I still
remember how I felt the next day, early morning, walking through a Buffalo
marathon in progress and the weather was perfect…there was a broken spell for
Brita II, no warm afterglow, no lingering post-coital bliss. I didn’t have the same urge to follow her. You just can’t account for certain things,
and nature has its own way when it comes to love, but I can account for this,
the last thing she wrote me:
I'm scratching my head
mostly because of the lice (kidding), but also because of this situation. I'm
confused as to why after two weeks we're not getting closer but instead farther
away. It's not a competition at all, the point I'm trying to make is that I
seem to care about seeing you and getting to know you but your actions have
showed me that the opposite is not true. I should not feel like I'm the only
one putting forth effort, like I'm the only one excited about this. If I had to
ask a question, it would probably be "Why have you dropped off the face of
the earth?" The only way I can explain it with my limited view of what the
heck is going on in your head is that you're not interested. And if that's the
case, then it's fine, but that should be conveyed so I'm not left wondering. So
I guess my second question to you is "How do you feel about me?" I'm
not asking for you to act artificial or pretentious, I'm just asking for what
the heck is going on in your own terms.
And that’s the way I left it…until a few months
ago, when I reached out again, but unsurprisingly without response. I didn’t know how to describe it at the time
and I didn’t want to start a legacy of being unnecessarily mean, so I let it
be. And I dropped OKCupid (like a regular
baby) on its head.
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