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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

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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.

 

 

 

 

 

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.

 

 

 

 

 

No Excuses

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I’m struggling with writing today; I hope you’ll bear with me if my thoughts are disorganized.

I found myself in a unique situation…I had a great date with a great guy. I even told him about My Frog Princes, certain that he’d never be fodder for my pages. (As they say, turn around is fair play, and he got the conversation started.)

It was my intent to go out again. When I said that I needed to put off another date for a few weeks because of an overwhelming schedule, it was the truth.

Here’s how my brain works: I absorb in the moment; I process later. Details coalesce and form the bigger picture. I concluded that he and I are not on the same path, that the lifestyles we want are not in sync. Religion plays a role in his life that it never has, and never will, in mine. A superficial example: he recently moved to the suburbs after many years in the city. I just did the reverse.

When we were out he told me about his past relationships. He said that falling in love was the easy part; making a life together is the challenge. This stuck with me.

Now, what was the right thing to do? On the sites, many people say they’d like to start as friends, see if that leads to more. But they’re dating sites, not make-friends sites. This particular fact was pointed out to me by several of my friends. What’s misleading? What’s fair?

Again…we had fun. He’s interesting, smart, optimistic, attractive, sensitive and honest. I planned on going out on the second date in order to show him that I really did (do) like him and had a good time with him. Face to face. I wanted to tell him I don’t see us walking the same path.

I want to be friends. I want to help him find the love of his life. Believe me when I say he’s one of the good ones. One of the really, really good ones.

Well…you know how I handled it. He deserves better. I was wrong when I went silent. My instinct was to be honest from the start, then I made some bad decisions.

Neil got his apology and explanation, personally and immediately. We talked. We even made plans. As friends.

 

 

Are They Getting Stupider?

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I don’t know about you, but I’ve been moving toward the dating apps more than the sites. The down side is that I have, more than once, swiped left when, what I really wanted, was to look at photos. Upside features? Newer app, new faces. Ease of use, not smothering us with information, and…this one’s my favorite…connection to our Facebook profiles.

I know you’re sick of hearing this from me, but one more time…I simply can’t let it go! Today a guy came up with a stated age of 49. Looked older. Significantly. His lie was confirmed by his college graduation date of 1976. I’m 53 and graduated in 1984; you do the math.

I see two explanations. Option 1, Doogie Howser. Option 2, not only a liar, but too dumb to know he outed himself right on the spot. I suppose we could flip a coin, but it would keep coming up as option 2 (my homage to Iowa caucus).

Here’s my suggestion to all of you, men and women, who are lying about anything on your profiles. Don’t.

This One Takes the Cake

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Many of you have come to My Frog Princes via Facebook, and some of you have posted your crazy stories there. Thanks for engaging, and please keep sharing your experiences! This is an exact post copied from the Facebook link:

There was the homeless guy I met…has a picture up in uniform as a marine, cowboy, sings, dances, fun dude… said he was in a car wreck, so i went to the hospital to pick him up and to take him home. I pick up this dirty, toothless man, who gets in my car and tries to kiss me, ugh no!! He says he’s hungry and his roommates are already eating. I go to McDonald’s down the road, he says he forgot his wallet at the hospital. So I buy him food and offer to take him back to get his wallet. Drive back towards the hospital, he says stop, here’s home. I dropped him off at the homeless shelter in Fort Worth…..that was the end of POF for me. lol

Remember that we need to keep our senses of humor about all of this. We all know it can be disappointing and frustrating, downright depressing, along the way. But it’s also comical and absurd; laugh about it and keep going. We’re all here for you!!

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It Ain’t Me, Babe

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I was recently swiping and this guy came up. There was one photo, in which he was wearing sunglasses and a hat, and the location was completely nondescript…maybe a construction site or a landfill. He offered no information; he wrote one line that was vague. Of course, my curiosity won out and I swiped right.

He messaged me, “Looking for me?” followed with an icon to “click here” to know more about him. I clicked, and a good photo of him appeared. Nice enough looking, and he was putting a little effort into the process. So I responded, “Creative, interesting start.”

His response: “So take a bath, shave your legs and invite me over.” Eww.

It’s interesting how misled I was by my own perception. In my head, he was being playful and creative, and that intrigued me.  I liked the photo I had clicked to open; he looked serious but nice. Now, I look at the same photo, I see a misogynist, and I feel like I need a shower.

He, like the rest of us, is playing the odds. But he and I aren’t in the same game.

 

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.

A Man’s Perspective*: The Invisible Woman

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I’m pretty new to all this. But I’ve noticed a disturbing phenomena in the online dating world. Women just evaporate. One minute, they’re there. Then poof, they’re gone.

I don’t know if it’s the same for everyone. But here’s how it’s happened to me, on two different free sites, with what I thought were a couple of promising connections: A woman reaches out. (Yes, in both cases she initiated contact.) I peruse her profile and reply. We start with small talk, then move on to deeper stuff. When I sense it’s a good time, I suggest we meet in person and offer my phone number. Then radio silence.

When I go online to follow up, she’s gone. Her entire account has been deleted. So it’s not just me that she doesn’t want to meet? She’s giving up online dating completely?

The first time it happened, it was like watching Claude Raines disrobe in “The Invisible Man” with every browser refresh. First the woman’s additional photos came down, then her main profile photo, followed by her written profile, and finally the official notice that the account was deleted. Until that last one I thought there was something wrong with my computer.

Now, these are not bots, or Russian prostitutes, or foreign-exchange students with expired visas looking for a green card. These are women who live in my area, who know the neighborhoods and schools and, up until that moment, are available.

But who are they? Excruciatingly shy and/or grotesquely deformed women?  Lonely housewives trying to find out if they still have “it”? “Catfish” afraid of being caught? Cheating housewives who’ve been caught?

I haven’t the foggiest. But I take it as a blessing. I’d rather know they’re not invested before I invest my time, energy and emotions into developing a real relationship.

Of course, re-entering the dating pool can be scary. I’d be lying if I said I felt any differently. All I ask is that if you’re in it, please be in it. Otherwise it’s just one more distraction for those of us who are.

How have your experiences been? I’d  love to know.

*Welcome to my guest contributor, who will offer occasional insight from a man’s point of view.