The Online Dating Game - the lowdown

Dating online. It’s a precarious game.

You input your desired outcome onto your chosen website, for example ‘Dating’, ‘Actively Looking for a Relationship’ and the like. Or for the more emotionally challenged ‘No Strings Attached’ - the status that screams ‘I’m bad in bed, so therefore I want a get out of jail free clause, so that when I stop contacting you I can pretend it was You not Me’.

Invariably there are still the ones who despite modern day science are still unable to understand English. They message you with random questions, and you bite your lip and reply politely instead of firing off the reply you’d really like to give.

“What are you looking for?”

“A fight – next question?”

“Do you do NSA?”

“With you? Are you having a laugh?”

“I am messaging you as I am serious about a wife and I am a genuine guy”

“You are currently 4000 miles away, don’t they have women in your country?”

“Are you into having ‘fun’?”

“Well by definition fun is ‘enjoyment, amusement, or light-hearted pleasure’. If you’re implying I am going to have to lie back and think of England while you pretend you know what you are doing, then that doesn’t fit my definition. I think you’ll find that breaches of trades descriptions are a criminal offence”.

Last time someone asked if I was up for NSA my response was, “Only if you are exceptionally good in bed”. He said he was; and he was Italian. I was very sorely tempted to test out whether his ability matched his CV.

It’s amazing how you can grow to hate a phrase with great loathing.

“Are you ok?”

“Yes I’m good thanks, how are you?”

“Good thanks.”

24 hours later

“Are you ok?”

“Yes I’m good thanks, how are you?”

“Good thanks.”

It’s got to the point where I’m thinking of saving the phrase ‘Yes I’m good thanks, how are you?’ as an auto-responder. It’ll save so much time.

To truly appreciate the pavement pizza-coloured technicolour demographics that are today’s society, then online dating is the sport for you. Never has one encountered so many Pecs On Parade. These are my particular favourites. Men in their sweet naivety believe that a strategically placed picture of Pecs On Parade will show their softer side, and how much of a good catch they are. Unfortunately, this just screams ‘desperate’ or ‘I’m trying to portray the image of someone who is an animal in bed’, when in reality they’re a pussycat.

Then there are the ones that send you an arty image of their penis less than two minutes into your chat.

More interesting are the younger ones (usually the under 25s) who are looking for their ‘Mrs Robinson’ experience. They chase after you relentlessly requesting risqué pictures to the point of distraction. The sad fact is, you know that if you were to relent you would never hear from them again. After all, it’s much less embarrassing to sexually disappoint an inanimate picture.

And you thought it was going SO well.

I have a lot of things going for me. I look ten years younger than I am (maybe more depending on who is commenting on it - it’s a bit hard for someone who knows your actual age to pin down a theoretical one); I have a good house, a good career, good wage and a nice car. More crucially I had my ‘Boro accent beaten out of me at least 10 years ago, so I can pass for class (apart from the odd lapse of a glottal stop). I love my freedom, but there are times when a man would be a good addition to the equation.

An ex fling was no help

“You’re lovely, you’re funny, good fun to be with, pretty, great body, and you’re fantastic in b....”

“DON’T finish that sentence”

“But you are, they must be blind down your way; and you’re great at giving h....”

“I said DON’T”

I broached a male friend at work.

“Why do blokes do it? Why do they turn down a good prospect for these girls who have nothing really going for them? More to the point why do they always go for girls with bad teeth, or more particularly huge mouths with all gums and no teeth?”

Said friend made the international hand and mouth mime for ‘giving head’.

“It’s less, err, intrusive?” he offered.

After a moment’s pause...

“But I’m careful with my teeth.”

I digress...

I sometimes feel when I am on one of my rants about the male profession, that I am filled with the same feelings as if I were talking about a naughty child, who’s just a bit intellectually challenged. “Oh it’s OK, he doesn’t know any better”, meanwhile looking vainly round for something cute and cuddly to pat patronizingly on the head. There, there little one.

It’s a bit like an interview process...and on some occasions a Police interview process. You sit there in your room analysing each one, trying to assess whether he’s a nice good-looking or, an ’I’m-high-maintenance-and-up-my-own-arse’ good-looking. You can bet 90% of the time it’s the latter. You go through their online profiles with a culling process with such verve; it would put the fear of God into the agricultural community. All in an attempt to whittle down the masses to a short list of suspects. Then the hard work begins. And I mean HARD.

It’s a constant source of wonder, especially within the online dating game, as to how gullible men really think the ladies are. We know you have several irons in the fire. You may as well be honest about it because we are doing the same. We just have more applied morals....and we are a damn sight more cunning and slightly more devious.

In the little world of dating, your average female will be chatting up a number of potential suitors and will usually pick her selection based on a first come, first served (so to speak) basis. We are kind and gentle creatures by nature, and like to give everyone a chance. Therefore, we will probably schedule a few of you in, in order to finalise the interview process.

The men however, find it very hard to be upfront about the whole affair. They spout off a scattergun of ‘You’re so fit’s and ‘Yes of course I am only talking to you’s, when in reality it’s quite endearing (and alarming) that they think you’re naive enough to believe them. They will tell you you’re the only one, that you are their favourite, when in reality we’re all treating it like a job interview.

“I have always wanted to work for this company, and won’t settle for any other employer.”

Two days later...

“I have always wanted to work for YOUR Company, and won’t settle for any other employer.”

It’s bullshit bingo.

House!

Men do not know that you know their fire irons are multiplying, and they carry on oblivious in their endeavours, believing they are so clever for having led you a merry dance.

“I am sorry I have not been in touch, I’ve been way too busy” - way too busy to text a ‘Hello’ yet not too busy to spend 4 hours online on the site on which you met surprisingly. Funny that.

“Sorry, something has come up and I can’t make tonight” - you mean someone on your preferred list ranking above me finally caved in and allowed you a window of opportunity. Bear in mind guys, before you get too giddy, that you are probably her fall-back position too. In that way it’s like a house buying chain, waiting for an offer, waiting for the one above to make a move, bringing the next best thing in when one drops out...

So you think you have secured that date...he seems keen, you seem giddy. Get a reality check. You have spotted him online frequently, and there are evenings when he seems sketchy about his whereabouts. Nothing to worry about right? Nope. He’s multi fire-ironing again. If you’re lucky, the dates he’s denying all knowledge of may turn out to be nothing. If you’re unlucky then you will find yourself on the receiving end of the Sudden And Inexplicable Silent Treatment (SAIST for short). This usually occurs about 3 days before the potential date. Far enough ahead for you to create a backup plan (and him to absolve himself of all guilt because, of course, he hasn’t done it last minute), but not that far ahead enough for you to be suspicious that he really didn’t want a date in the first place.

At first it may be difficult to recognise...I mean, he may just be busy right? Plus, he works in IT so it’s not like he’s ever going to be a conversationalist of top calibre. It’s 24 hours since he contacted you, and you had just started to get used to the genuine-sounding ‘Hi there x’s each morning. You thought that you might have actually found someone genuine on a site full of shite.

Wrong.

It’s now 3 days since you had any contact. You’re holding off because you have pride and don’t want to chase, and he’s holding off because...well, he’s a man and probably being a bit of an arse. You sit in your respective locations as if in a messaging duel back-to-back waiting to see who’s going to fire the first shot across the bows.

And you wait.

Then you finally turn to take a tentative peek at your sparring partner, only to realise they have ran off into the distance in a cloud of dust long since.

If you are lucky – and the definition of the word luck is all relative, then you may secure an actual date. Yes, one where the man turns up and everything! Then it’s time to really up the ante with the short listing process.

As a Manager, it’s got to the point now where, like any good job interviewer, I am inclined to take my Folio document wallet on dates with me. While my date converses on, I make my notes on the important points such as:

1. Has he asked me anything about myself and does he seem interested?

2. Is he 2 stone heavier than his profile picture?

3. Has he got nice teeth or does he look like a visit to the dentist is in order?

4. Does he eat with his mouth open? Or worse ‘chomp’?

5. Do I feel sick at the thought of his hands down my top

And like any good job interview it ends with “Thanks for coming; I’ve got a few more to see...”