I joke a lot about online dating and how much I do it, but the reality is I hate it. I think it’s painfully awkward, and borderline depressing. At first, it was exciting. I forced myself to say yes to everyone who didn’t look like a psychopath or a serial killer (though there admittedly were a lot of guys who were real-life Patrick Batemans, minus the dead hookers in the closet) and would get so excited every time at the prospect that maybe, this time, I would find a great guy.
It never happened.
Time after time after time I would meet guys who were shorter/less funny/way douchier than they claimed to be in the “About Me” sections of their profiles (in fairness, I did swipe right for a lot of guys who identified themselves as “country clubbers”) and the excitement I felt walking into the bar deflated into major, major disappointment.
After the last disaster date a few weeks ago, I deleted all of my apps and vowed never to put myself through the horror that is online dating ever again. Well, at least until I become so lonely I re-download the apps to prove to myself I won’t grow old as a crazy cat lady (so like, a month or so from now). Guess I’ll have to find some new stuff to write about.
Here is a recap of exactly my thought process when going on an internet date— word for tedious word. Hopefully you can’t relate, but probably, you can. Especially if you, like me, swipe-right for Patrick Bateman types.
I don’t want to go.
Can I cancel?
It’s rude to cancel 20 minutes before a date, right?
Why did I say yes to this?
Matt said he was “kind of cool.”
That’s not even a little bit promising.
Oh wait. Roommate has a dinner tonight. I’ll be stuck home completely alone if I cancel.
Fine. I’ll go.
But I’m just going to wear what I wore to school.
Probably should have washed my hair, but I put in so much dry shampoo it should be fine.
Probably should have shaved my legs too.
Eh, there’s no chance we’re hooking up. It will be fine.
Wait fuck, is my hair white from the dry shampoo?
Ugh I can’t tell. Damn this snapchat camera and it’s bad lighting.
It’s gross out. I don’t want to go.
It literally only rains when I have dates.
At least he picked a bar near my apartment
He probably did it because he thinks I’ll sleep with him if we’re close by
Why am I the first one here? It’s 8:12.
It’s annoying that he’s later than I am.
I never know what to do when this happens.
Like do I wait outside? Do I wait by the hostess? Do I sit at the bar and order a drink?
I’m going to sit at the bar and order a drink.
I’ll look really cool sipping a martini when he walks in.
And I’ll be drunk in case he sucks.
I have no idea how to order a martini.
Is “extra straight up with a dirty twist” a thing?
Probably not, based on the weird look the bar tender gave me.
Definitely not a thing. This is disgusting.
But I feel so sexy holding it.
I wonder if he’s going to be as cute as his profile picture.
Oh no. Is that him?
He’s not as cute as his profile picture.
Or as tall.
And his pink shirt is fucking atrocious.
Definitely didn’t need to shave my legs for this.
Oh God. He’s talking about the country clubs.
And he just called his female boss a “bitch.”
And now he’s talking about Soul Cycle.
Wait. Did he just say “being a writer isn’t a real job”??
…. Does he know who he’s talking to
Aaaaaaand he just spilled wine on my white sweater.
Now he’s trying to hand me cash.
This is so awkward.
I hope he can tell that even though I’m saying “no! it’s ok!” that it is ABSOLUTELY not ok.
Is it rude to take out my phone and text my roommate to call me with an emergency?
Oh good, he’s going to the bathroom. Now’s my chance.
Can I order another drink and chug it while he’s in there?
Why do I keep saying yes to these things?
I could be on my couch watching Nashville
Or One Tree Hill
Or Season One Of The OC.
…. He’s been in there a really long time.
I’m actually a little tipsy.
He’s back and being weirder.
I think he maybe was doing drugs in the bathroom.
Now he’s asking me if I’m going to write about him.
I mean… maybe?
But being a writer isn’t a real job apparently so what does it matter?
Ugh I never know how to handle taking out my card to pay for drinks.
Honestly I just want to pay for this and get the hell out of here.
Ok, he’s going to pay. That’s actually pretty nice.
Wait now he wants to walk me home???
What are we going to talk about for 6 blocks?
Aaaaand now he’s trying to hold my hand.
Do I seem like someone who has any interest in holding hands?
Spoiler alert: I’m not.
If he tries to kiss me, I swear to G—
That was SO gross.
It literally felt like I had a live eel flopping in my mouth.
I need to get inside and take a shower.
And gargle with rubbing alcohol.
And possibly jump out my window.
No dude. There is ZERO PERCENT CHANCE you are coming up to my apartment
I’m so glad I live across the street from the police department
Yeah! We should definitely do this again sometime!