I have a number of
friends who met their spouse through online dating. I, myself, have not had much success. In 2009, I tried Match.com and Compatible Partners
(eHarmony’s gay dating site they created after they were sued). Match.com got me exactly one date with a guy
who blatantly lied about not only his weight (which he underreported by at
least 80 pounds rendering him practically unrecognizable when I got to the
restaurant) and his drinking; one of the things we supposedly had in common. When we placed our dinner order, he chose a
beer to go with his eggplant parmigiana.
Even I know you don’t drink beer with Italian food unless it’s pizza. And he drank four over the course of the
meal. This experience has taught me to
pick the restaurant for dates so even if they are disastrous, the food will be
good. No flies on me, y’all. Compatible Partners gave me no dates
whatsoever. Methinks Dr. Neil Clark
Warren’s heart is not really into perfecting the algorithm for this site.
When I moved to
California in 2011, it was to the San Francisco Bay Area, which is, as we were
taught in The Southern Baptist South, Sodom to Los Angeles’ Gomorrah. Gay Central.
I can find a date here, surely.
Again I turned to Match.com but this time there were no dates. Again, I turned to Compatible Partners, because
they match you on the inside with ever how many categories you can fill out in
the two and a half hours it took to complete.
They are thorough, people.
Thorough like a strip search in jail…or so I’ve been told. They literally had no matches for me. When I called to question how this could be,
they admitted they were stumped and they actually offered a refund, which I
accepted.
I know what you’re
thinking because a number of you have asked, “Dustin are you being too picky?” And I assure you I am not. All I want is to find a man who is a
Christian, isn’t a career criminal or gold digger, doesn’t want to have sex on
the first date and isn’t currently starring in a reality show. I know, I know, Je suis delirious.
While
I still lived in the Bay Area, I even tried the personals section of Craigslist
(it worked for a friend) and all it got me was a weird invitation to someone’s
house with a request to wear track pants from the 70s. No thank you, serial killer. And I am well aware of the nastiness that is
Grindr and I will have none of that. I
am a man of quality, people. QUALITY!
When I moved to
Long Beach I decided to try Match.com once more for reasons I have long since
forgotten. Surprisingly, I met a few
people. The first resulted in a date
where he quoted the mediocre movie ‘Sordid Lives’ at me, as if it were his
original thoughts. When I grew weary from
the onslaught, I said, “You know, I’ve seen the movie.” At which point he abruptly stopped talking
for the remainder of the meal. Afterward
an awkward but tasty Mediterranean meal, we went to Sweet Jill’s bakery to get
an amazing cinnamon roll because I was having my complete date. When he told me he found the cinnamon roll to
be mediocre, I told him I was taking both my leave and the leftovers.
The second guy was
great. We had an incredible first date. We texted each other throughout the week and then
made plans for the next date. It seemed
to be going very well. He then said, “I’m
not feeling chemistry” and abruptly left me sitting there thinking, “Why did he
leave? Was it something I said? Would it be rude to finish his brownie?”
The third guy and
I had some great conversations via text and e-mail. Apparently, he was too cheap to buy a full
membership because after a week and a half (I was on work travel and couldn’t
meet) he asked that we exchange photos.
He sent his and while he was a little more leather biker murderer than I
normally like, I wasn’t going to be rude.
When he received my photo he abruptly stopped texting and I have not
heard from him since. Now, I know people
aren’t composing sonnets or love songs about my beauty, but C’MON! Surely I’m cute enough to look at while
eating free food for pity's sake.
The last guy I met
at least introduced me to new vocabulary; specifically the term “boat trash”. It’s like trailer trash but in the water. However, at
this point he was simply someone who seemed very excited to meet me and with
who I had several interesting conversations.
We made plans for a late lunch first date. I
was on a weekend trip to Palm Springs and was to return early for said
date. I called him to confirm the day
before and we decided on a time (3:00 pm) and a restaurant (Seville so we could
have tapas with a side of flamenco dancers).
I put on a great date, y’all.
I arrived slightly early because that is how I
roll. When the time came for him to
arrive, he did not. When he was 15
minutes late, I became concerned. I
called and left a message and heard nothing back. I went home and around 9:00 pm received a
phone call saying, “I’m so sorry.
I fell asleep on my boat. When I
woke up I forgot about our date. You
should have reminded me.”
At this point I don’t know if he has a yacht, something akin to the door
from Titanic that selfish girl
floated on or something in between. And at
this point it doesn’t matter.
I replied, “I reminded you yesterday and I left you a
voice mail when you didn’t show.” He
replied, “I don’t have a cell phone. It’s
a landline. And I’m so sorry. I owe you lunch.”
I said, “Yes, you do” thinking who doesn’t have a cell
phone in 2016? The Dad has a cell phone. Granted it’s a Jitterbug with ridiculously
large buttons, but it’s not a landline. He
replied, “When do you want to meet?” I answered,
“Oh, I don’t want to meet. I just agree you owe me lunch. I am no longer interested but you have a
great day.”
So, it is on to Suggestion #3.5: Meet Mr. Right on OKCupid.
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