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Searching for Pikachu

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I’m in Florida at the moment, and, naturally, checked in on Bumble and Tinder to see who’s here…who’s been waiting for me all his life.

There was an alarming number of widowed, single fathers whose friends had, just 5 days ago, convinced them to go on. There were also several who lived far, far away. I can’t figure out how or why we matched. They were all in search of true love. They all want to be happy again. (Note to all, men and women alike: Looking for happiness shouldn’t be like playing Pokemon Go. Look for matches. Look for dates. Look for the love of your life. But don’t rely on that to deliver happy if you don’t already embrace it.)

One stood out. Fun looking photos. Mid 50’s and retired; I needed to know how that was. We texted back and forth for several days. Seemed like we had similar likes. We were both interested in simplifying and downsizing our lives. We get our news from the same news sources, of particular importance during this crazy election year.

We realized I was staying very close to where he lives, so we tried to make a lunch plan. Lunch never happened because he was about to have surgery. Turns out, “retired at 54” is code for “on disability.”

Also turns out that “simplifying and just enjoying life” is code for “living with my parents.” The icing? He was using his mother’s phone.

 

 

Tinder Without Borders

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I only recently signed up on Tinder. I registered via my Facebook account and didn’t look at it again til a couple of weeks later. Two nights ago I looked at it for the first time; didn’t even think to look at my own profile page.

Was out with my friend (you’ve read some of her stories). Told her I thought I was at highest age range of Tinder. We checked. I am, but I’m in good company. I started looking and swiping, mostly right with my new buckshot approach, and also because I wasn’t wearing glasses or reading the profiles or looking through the photo options.

About 90% of my right swipes resulted in matches! Continued this for another day, weeded through the errant matches, and started conversations with 21 men. 21!! I texted the same message 21 times: “Hi (insert name here). Summer off to a good start?”

Results? 17 (yes, you read that right) responded! One date scheduled. Another has my phone number. 4 or 5 other ongoing conversations, one of which seems to be heading more toward dirty talk than a meeting. One of them pointed out that my profile was sparse (remember, I had never set it up). I updated and got some nice feedback from my penpals.

Now what? I’ll keep you posted.

Buckshot Results

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It’s been two weeks since I introduced my “buckshot” approach. I’m swiping right more liberally and opening up the playing field. Results? Probably not shocking…just more of the same.

This was an all-Bumble trial; the first contact was mine after match notification. In every case I started with hello (and in no case did I “have him at” that), and followed with a question directly related to his photos or profile. To the architect: Are you involved in an interesting project now? To the critic: What genres do you like most? To the writer with funny profile: Do you write comedy? To the others: Any fun plans to kick off the summer?

12 matches. That means that they swiped right on my profile, too. I had a really nice dialogue with one over the course of several days. Then silence. A few responded with answers like “yes” and “thanks;” not engaging…done. One asked for my number but didn’t use it. 2 or 3 placed on hold during long weekend.

5 of them didn’t acknowledge my contact. I had to, just had to, follow up. “So…I’m going to send this same question to several of you…I hope you’ll reply…What changes from your first swipe right til it’s time to respond to a text? (I do it, too, sometimes). We all know this is a crap shoot…let’s at least find out. Aren’t you curious? I am. Let’s face it…it’s not personal at this stage…but maybe, just maybe…(Not desperate. Not needy. Really wondering.)”

Two responses. One told me he’d met someone else, who he’s now dating, right around the same time. I asked if that was true, reminding him he owed me nothing and that I meant this as a learning experience. He said he never lies. Whether or not that’s true is inconsequential today. In short, we texted back and forth a little bit and that was that.

The other one went differently. Turns out he lives in another state. I asked if he was looking for hook ups or if he was cheating on someone. Said he was not a cheater, but was, perhaps, interested in cyber sex. He asked about my relationship/dating status.

“Cheater? Never. Well, maybe in college with high school boyfriend. Hookups? Been a lifelong prude; hoping I’ll find my inner slut one day. Husband? Still on paper but long done in life. Reality? Who the fuck knows?! I want it to blindside me and live happily ever after. Is that asking too much?!” 

He didn’t think I was asking too much. And you won’t be surprised to learn that he offered to help me find my inner slut via sexting. “Harmless. Could be fun.” I tried to do it…to challenge myself. I bailed before I started. To him, I apologize, since he kind of started without me.

A Prince’s Perspective

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Here’s an interesting observation, submitted by a reader…friend…prince…(as always, published unabridged). 

Huddling up at the bar to swipe right or left…

I am not so sure that the Tinder’s and Bumble’s ruling the dating world these days are that much different than those good old days of just going to the bar, club or downtown lounge and trying to meet someone of the opposite sex. Then again, for me those days were not so good; I didn’t have much luck meeting anyone.

Think about it: arriving with our friend(s) with the faint hope of finding someone special, strutting into the place with a wing-man (or wing-woman), grabbing a beer, cocktail, or something in our hands that made us look busy, and then we’d peer around the oppressive environment to see if our eyes could catch a look from someone of the opposite sex.

How is this so different than Tinder? Isn’t this the very same thing as opening up Bumble and peering into the eyes of a person in a photo, our hands holding something to make us feel important, ready to bust a move? It’s no shock how today these twenty-something’s use Tinder for hook-ups, given how it takes away all the unnecessary trappings like travel and venue for them to find immediate gratification instead of wasting an entire evening on the prowl.

The Tinder’s and Bumble’s of the dating and hook-up world rely on that first glance, not on the written word or laundry list of things we like. Of course, some write how they enjoy wine, travel, the beach and good food, yet the focus is not on what is written but simply that initial look in the eyes. This is just like at the bar! Of course, the limited number of matches on those apps are also just like the bar, it’s not THAT simple! Men and women lying about their age, also no different than in the bar when someone told us they were 24 when they were really 34. On the app, the fuzzy photos or group shots with friends cover up the truth that they are really 65! Hell, it’s really no different than when we huddled up at the bar, things haven’t changed that much since being in my twenties.

I’ve tried Match, Plenty of Fish, Jdate, sites that require detailed profile descriptions. But in the end, it is still that first look that matters most. The internal chemical reaction to another’s eyes, face, or countenance draws us in. It’s not any written word, or excuse the expression, how we sell ourselves.

Little has changed other than venue, it is still chemistry uber alles.  For human beings in this difficult mating game, we are still just like mammals in the jungle.

Buckshot? I am all ears!

I have a couple of comments. (Of course I do.)

  1. At the bar, you can get some sense of chemistry, albeit tequila infused. Tequila=good.
  2. A point made in Aziz Ansari’s book, Modern Romance: people are checking dating apps even on their ways to meet dates…you never know what better options may appear. Like bar hopping.

Buckshot

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In a social setting, I met a man who interested me. The more I got to know him, the more interested I was. I started wondering…would I swipe left or right if I found him online? Would I know he was smart? Interesting? Interested? A good person? Would it be clear, from either profile, that we liked to do many of the same things? Would he post photos that drew me in or turned me off?

That’s when I realized the real flaw in the digital dating system; we think we have enough information to make a judgement, but we don’t. We can’t possibly.

We can do some screening. If he’s all about race cars and cigars, that may or may not appeal to you. Maybe it’s obvious that he’s a runner, a traveler, a hiker or a photographer, interests you may or may not share. But there’s more to him than that, isn’t there?

Maybe that photo of him crossing the finish line is from the first and last race he ever ran. Maybe there’s a story behind it. Maybe it’s in the way he tells the story. Maybe it’s the look on his face, in his eyes, as he tells it. Swipe left and you’ll never know.

Which is why I’m introducing my next new approach: buckshot.

 

 

 

 

 

What’ve We Got to Lose?

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First dates. In his book, Modern Romance*, Aziz Ansari writes that he and his friends’ “goal was…to meet someone who instantly swept us off our feet, but it just didn’t seem to be happening.”

First dates hold promise. They engage our fantasies. Too much. You’re picturing that amazing first kiss. You see yourself moving in…getting a dog…hiking together through the English countryside (where the sun is always shining, because it’s a fantasy).

Back to first date reality. Maybe you don’t have as much in common as you’d expected. Maybe he had a bad day. Or you did. Maybe he doesn’t get your jokes, or you don’t find him engaging. But maybe…just maybe…our fantasies are getting in our ways and we’re not giving these dates enough of a chance.

Take the opposite experience…you both immediately feel a real connection and attraction. In this scenario, you see each other a few times…get to know each other a little more. Turns out you’re not as compatible as you first thought. He and your friends don’t hit it off. You have a hard time agreeing on a movie. He’s too needy…too aloof…too busy…drinks too much…makes fun of your favorite show…or the shine has just quickly worn off. You took the time, and now you know that he isn’t “the one.”

You don’t get a job after a first interview. And a third interview still doesn’t guarantee an offer. They saw more of what you’re about, and you learned more about the opportunity. The fit might not be there. Or, surprise, this might be the dream job you didn’t even know you wanted!

Look, some dates are uncomfortable. Some are downright offensive (From those, we run with lightening speed). But there could sometimes be sparks there, right below the surface, that need a little stirring to catch. Stoke it a little. Why not?

 

*My review: Modern Romance was really informative and very funny. Aziz Ansari’s voice, personality and comic style are on every page.

Modern Romance was written by Aziz Ansari and Eric Klinenberg.

Let Me Elaborate

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I wasn’t very clear yesterday, I know. The Reader’s Digest version, right to the point…I had a great time, felt connected and comfortable, but didn’t see it amounting to a LTR (long term relationship, for any of you not used to the dating site lingo). Why not? There were reasons, feelings, but now I can’t put my finger on them. Maybe I never did. (I will bring this topic to my therapist’s couch and spare you, readers.)

What I wanted to do…planned to do…was get together again and be truthful. I’m not always in step with social code; I don’t do things the way other people do. I color outside the lines. Dance to my own drummer. Talk to strangers. But I know that sometimes I’m inappropriate; I listened to too many people and began to doubt myself. I’m angry with myself for not trusting my instincts, especially at someone else’s expense.

Even more so at the expense of someone I know values honesty and had demonstrated that from day one. Sadly, the societal norm (like the stories more common to my pages) dictated how I behaved. I fucked up. My respect and appreciation for his candid reproach is beyond measure.

Thank you, Neil, for being smarter and braver than I.

I have more to say about first dates. Next time.

 

 

 

 

 

What’s In Your Wallet?

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Not too long ago, a taxi driver told me about a guy he kicked out of his cab. The guy was drunk, and telling the driver about the date he had just left. Bragged that he had “forgotten” his wallet and gotten his date to pay for a very nice dinner.

The other day my friend told me about her latest date disaster. Same story!! Met on one of the sites. Made a date at a very nice place (that he chose). He was running late, had to run home first…

They met at the bar and had a couple of drinks. When the bill came, he told her he’d forgotten his wallet during his quick change at home.

Same guy? Or, is this a thing?

 

I’m (Almost) Speechless

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Today I received three messages. Good, right?! One of the guys is in Los Angeles. Another is in Texas. I’m in New York. WTF!

The third?

Since my words couldn’t possibly do his justice, here’s a quote from his essay: “If your (his improper grammar, not mine)  searching for an attractive, kind and funny soul–who’s also sincere, suave and sexy…” blah blah this, blah blah that…good in kitchen “…I’ve been told I’m fairly accomplished in some other rooms of the house as well.”

Suddenly, Texas and LA are lookin’ pretty good.