Online dating isn’t a game…no wait, of course it is! – Part 1

Sure, online dating apps have changed the way relationships and marriages develop and grow. Those who meet and form strong partnerships with Tinder and Bumble, as well as plenty of other, more particular dating apps are invoking a rise in interracial and inter-class relationships: an increase that no one has seen in the U.S. until now. For those lucky enough to find and maintain the magic that they are looking for through a dating app, you are passively doing your part in changing societal norms. HOWEVER – dating websites shouldn’t be overlooked, since the gamifying “swipe” apps would not exist, or thrive today without the original sites.

A dirty, dirty game.


https://mashable.com/article/online-dating-change-world/

I stand behind dating SITES because during the time I was actively using them to find a date, I found a guy or two.. thousand – that I thought might be my soulmate. I’ve created a breakdown of different guys that I met on dating websites that I hung out with for a special length of time, believing that they might be the one…along with the reason(s) why they most certainly did not live up to the role (and some fun follow-ups!).

First up (and there’s a lot of ridiculous details here, because I think “ridiculous details” is this guy’s real name):

Phil*- We met virtually on Match.com and after a bunch of messages, decided to meet in person at a café. Phil was nice and polite, and gave me a lot of attention throughout our courtship, but it became super apparent that he had some major issues that I could not deal with. The first sign was during our introductory date, when he told me I couldn’t get a ham and cheese croissant because I’m Jewish. I believe he confused being “kosher” with my religion and also: don’t ever tell me what I can and can’t eat, Phil. After a few weeks of chatting and hanging out, I told Phil that I dabbled in marijuana usage from time to time. His legitimate response to that (via text) was to inquire about my health. Phil didn’t understand why someone would smoke weed unless they had glaucoma or cancer. Baffled, but assuming that his narrow-minded comments would eventually dissipate as we fell further in love (in my imagination), I continued to hang out with Phil.

I ended up driving to another state with him to spend an early summer Saturday at his relatives’ house and pool, with the entire family. Knowing very well that I had just adopted my dog less than a week earlier, Phil had no qualms about staying with his family for over 10 hours. When I privately asked him about 9 hours into the visit when we would be departing, he announced to his whole family that I had to get home “to the dog” while rolling his eyes. That was not okay. Probably worse than managing my food intake. Neither was his behavior the entire drive home and via text for the next 12 hours, where I was insulted and told I was horrible because Phil’s cousin felt that I didn’t show Phil enough affection. He also demanded to know if I even cared about him. I must’ve repeated to Phil that I liked him but 10 hours with someone else’s family in another state after a few weeks of dating is a bit much and maybe his cousin needed to keep her comments to herself.

My apartment, in Phil's mind.

My apartment, in Phil’s mind.


After all of that judging, Phil and I still spoke and he had agreed to spend the night at my apartment for the first time. In preparation for that, Phil casually asked me if I had my own bathroom. This was said in the same serious tone as his marijuana-health inquiries and exasperation with the attention I gave my dog. With all the patience I could muster, I explained to Phil that it was not 1923 and I didn’t live in a tenement with my extended, seamstress family. As a result, I did have my own bathroom. He almost seemed convinced that I was telling the truth. So – we met each other out earlier that evening with a few of my friends, planning on going back to my place afterwards. We weren’t even out for that long when Phil turned to me after talking to one of my friends and accused me of not “treating him well.” He was already upset with me and I didn’t know why, and then told me he wouldn’t be staying at my apartment that night. That’s the point where I gave up on him and just wanted to hang out with my friends, but he wouldn’t leave. He followed the group of us to two additional bars and brooded in the corner, not telling me what he was upset about but not leaving either.

Why are you so angry?

Didn’t we just meet?

Phil eventually went home (not with me) that night, and I had reached the point where I officially wasn’t having fun with him, nor did I understand how his brain or emotions worked. I decided that night that it was over (and from his behavior, I assumed he felt the same). Phil ended up texting me the next day, asking if I had “calmed down” and if we can have a reasonable conversation. I told him I was calm the day before and didn’t understand him at all. I wasn’t interested in dealing with his mercurial behavior and it was very obvious by then that we were not a good match.

I had a few more texting interactions with Phil, wherein I was told how horrible I was for a bit longer but it eventually stopped.

In summary:

– Phil held food from me, kidnapped me to be with his family, made fun of the care I took for my child, yelled at me several times for not being affectionate, accused me of not having a bathroom and thought I had a serious illness.

I am fully aware that all of these interactions were partially my fault, since I kept our contact going. I wanted to believe that I had finally found him. The One. And I just needed to get past some early arguing.

I’ve looked Phil up a few times since we dated and it seems that not much has changed in his life. I hope he chilled out a little.

More games to come!

*All names have been changed because everyone on the planet is a complete lunatic.

Title Unnecessary, Just Like These Powerful Self-Summaries

Just to be clear (since I’m not sure the screenshot is), this person is not single and has posted a photo of a torso in the hopes of finding someone to please. Makes perfect sense, right?

Photo-editing aside, whichever suited suitor in the photo this summary is for, he already enjoys the company of “an older woman.” Why go on Match.com then? Possibly to talk about his supposed gym routine…maybe no one in real life (including said “older woman”) wants to hear about his daily fitness and employment patterns.

I guess I just wanted to point out that these are two more examples of individuals who are looking for something very specific, most likely not on Bumble or Match.com. I don’t know the correct places for them to go to suit their headless or older woman needs, but it definitely is not either of the places I found them.

Oh lord, give us strength…Facebook Is Testing Its Dating Service

It’s official. Facebook is now getting into online dating.

This is kind of weird to me, considering that every dating app I know about cuts right into your Facebook information as it is. Oh, but wait:

“You won’t see anyone you’re already friends with on Facebook, nor will you see people you’ve blocked.”

I want guaranteed proof that this will not happen. I feel like most apps have prevented me with people I never ever ever want to see again, let alone talk to or date – so this is quite an advantage.

Hmmm — “By utilizing the trove of data it already has about users, Facebook has the ability to become a powerful player in the online dating space.”

Didn’t they just get breached? Like really, really screwed? Is this really the time for “going steady” with dating?

It just rolled out in Colombia, and I’m praying for all of those who use it.

The Dateline episode is already being developed in my mind.

Keith Leans on Things (appropriately a Facebook page)

Partner Searching vs. Job Hunting – The Pinnacle of Mind-Reading and Insecurity

Finding a good date. Finding a good job. Okay so they are both complete torture.

During the past year, I was searching for another full-time job, other than the one I had, but the extra special time came during the last 3 months where I was officially an unemployed, crap excuse for a human being (yes, it says so on my taxes) and I’m here to tell you that it is definitely worse than being single. HOWEVER – online dating and job searching are so similar – and in ways I would have never thought prior to this experience.

[

A real life Tinder profile. I promise.

I am job.

The greatness that is Mrs. Doubtfire

Self-representation on paper (online) and in-person are obviously sucky parts of both activities. No one likes to fill out the dreaded profiles / resumes / applications and conduct an endless search for perfection (unless she is a sadist), but that is a pleasure compared to other aspects of the process…

You feel crazy and stupid at all times. No matter what.

Whether it was the recruiter who called and e-mailed me about my application, but then never got back to me when I returned her call, or the potential manager who suggested we have a phone interview at a certain date and time and didn’t show up, I blamed myself. I must’ve misread text in black and white and actual messages saying that they wanted to talk to me, right?

Everyone ignores you.

Literally, all the time. They only called or e-mailed me with five minutes to spare about something highly important when I was in the shower, out socializing in a very loud place or even worse – waiting in a very quiet place, where phone use was prohibited. I also enjoyed showing up for two different, supposedly real-life interviews in which I was given the wrong floor or in one case, the completely wrong building to go to. Trying to be confident and focused (and not sweating profusely, in utter exhaustion / confusion) at that point is quite challenging.

Eye contact is probably worse than eye surgery.

And I’ve had both in the past year! And I’m mortified by eyeballs in general! Get jealous! And I’m not even referring to the job interviews where I was finally invited to enter the tangible office space to have a conversation with a real person. I’m referring to the modern Skype / Facetime / Google Hangout interview where I looked either too eager or completely insane at all times. I remember thinking that I wish I couldn’t see what I looked like while talking – it was horrifying. It’s like having to look at the face of a creepy guy who thought he was entertaining. Yuck.

You get judged.

And quite often you don’t know what you are getting judged for. It could be your crappy small talk about the weather, or the way you described your last meal was somehow offensive…WHO KNOWS? Not me. I definitely had that same kind of “WTF did I just say?” feeling during many blind dates, after either having someone laugh at me when I wasn’t trying to be funny or just nod along when I asked a question. Super comfortable.

People advise you to “enjoy the downtime” / “playing the field”

It’s like the people who have been married since they were toddlers explaining their plight of wanting to know what it feels like to be alone on a holiday…Ummm…I’m not going to enjoy being single and I’m not going to enjoy being unemployed. Unless I had zero desire to associate with other human beings while being independently wealthy and free to travel the world, I don’t see how that’s possible.

No follow-up, unless you have zero interest whatsoever.

I think that heading speaks for itself. Just a reminder that the people that I never wanted to interact with ever again in my life have always tried to stay in contact and “be friends.” This has included unbalanced stalkers, people with more time on their hands than I have (not sure how that’s possible) and people who think I have money to give them. It has never included a recruiter, headhunter or potential manager.

Online Dating: Effective and Brutally Honest or Confusing and All Over the Place?

A wise reality star once said, “I wouldn’t recommend dating if you’re on the fringe of sanity.” And I tell ya – Shepard Rose (“Shep”) speaks the truth. He certainly doesn’t seem like he knows much of anything, but that’s a darn good phrase to live by.


Shep, being Sheppie.

I guess most people that are a bit confused, or close to insane will not acknowledge it. And I guess that’s what makes Loveflutter, a timely dating app that uses big data and analytics, so promising. The main gist of Loveflutter is that it uses actual words that you have said (typed) on your Twitter feed to match you up with like-minded singles, thus working with the logic that social media posts truly represent the essence of people. I get it – Tinder, etc is completely superficial, basing matches off of photos only, while other sites will survey and have you fill out bios ad nauseum that never seem to really get used for anything. Loveflutter digs into your social thoughts and makes matches that way. It’s new and different, but I just don’t really buy that it is as promising as this article claims.

“Effective” is a word I would use to describe a skin cream or pad training for my dog – not necessarily for a dating app, so I was already a disbeliever when reading the headline of this post. I also distinctly remember viewing and reaching out to different Twitter users on my own if I found them to be interesting. Isn’t that what the kids already refer to as “Sliding into the ‘DM'”? The innovation on this app must be super-impressive, possibly because they use “AI” and “NLP” acronyms enough to get greedy techies way too excited.

https://i.ytimg.com/

Also, you have to be a Twitter user who actually posts things AND you can’t utilize these amazing feats in artificial intelligence and compatibility measurement unless you have an iPhone*! I’d say that a large percentage of the single population is already missing out…

I would love someone to tell me that I’m completely wrong. Contrary to what you must be thinking, I don’t know everything (but thanks for the compliment!) It’s an idea that is different from a host of very stale, excruciating match-making models and devices, so maybe it does have some kind of a success rate.

Please educate me! Until then, I will be working on my Shep quote collage.


Not very southern gentleman of him. (Thank you, Bravo)

* My vast research resulted in an additional Loveflutter app that is available on both Android and iOS devices. Seems just like Tinder with a different name, and basically just makes dating even more confusing and annoying. According to this , Loveflutter BLUE is the “premium,” Twitter-verified version of the original, fake Tinder. All of this information makes me even more confused. Not a good look for a dating app, eh?

Patti Stanger is my idol

Being single when you truly don’t want to be is not fun. I don’t care what any “expert” says about the excitement or the possibilities of it. It’s traumatizing – especially if you are going the online route.

For those of you who don’t know who Patti Stanger is, I encourage you to look up her bio and even partake in some of the older episodes of her earth-shattering TV show, “Millionaire Matchmaker.” It’s no longer on the air, and she has since developed a remixed version of the original show on a new network. The older ones are the gems though. That show is where I learned such valuable lessons about dating that have stuck with me for life, including: men aren’t attracted to women with red and / or curly hair; men aren’t attracted to women who don’t wear the correct high heels; the very well-researched, poignant notion that “the penis does the picking.”

Patti also continues to share her wisdom on several different marketing channels, including her own helpful blog, with a title that I have found myself repeating internally for years: Patti Knows.

http://www.nydailynews.com/new-york/tv-exec-tough-love-advice-matchmaker-article-1.2697289

One post that I found encourages women to go on dates that they know will be bad. “I know this advice sounds weird, but trust me, it works. Go on a few dates you think will be bad and I guarantee you’ll get something valuable out them.” I almost understand the logic shtick behind this sentiment, that you never know what you will find by putting yourself “out there” and one should be open-minded. Yet, I think that free spirit should have a cautionary footnote and an expiration date. I would then point at any of the posts that I have documented on this blog throughout the past several years as supporting evidence. And some other profiles recently discovered out there in the exciting world of dating apps:

He’s a caring and thoughtful Dom. With friendly photos!

Here’s my bare chest – or someone else’s bare chest. Anyway, wanna be my side piece?

Remember… Patti Knows*

http://www.manbehindthedoll.com/dreamdate.htm

*What exactly does she know?!?

The Man Who Feared Tomatoes

Sean traveled to Manhattan from the middle of the New Jersey suburbs to meet me for our first blind date at a little Italian restaurant that I had chosen. And I know I say this about so many other people, but Sean really and truly was (and maybe still is?) a good guy. It was definitely me who kept him away after our second date.

I’m certainly no foodie, but I like to pretend I know what is going on in the cooking world and am friends with people like this guy who have helped me hone my superficial interest in dining.

During our first date, I vaguely remember suggesting several different appetizers for us to share – including mozzarella cheese, stuffed mushrooms, and possibly something seafood-related. He looked at me like I was crazy for each suggestion, and I believe we ended up sharing an order of fried calamari. His entree was a fairly simple pasta dish and he ate it very slowly. As he examined every morsel that went into his mouth, I started to ask him about food that he actually enjoys. I mentioned different types of cuisines to see if he would have any sort of positive reaction:

Me: Mexican? Tacos? Burritos?

Sean: (tongue sticks out, appalled) Oh man – definitely not.

Me: Any type of seafood, besides calamari?

Sean: Ew, gross!

Me: Burgers?

Sean: Yeah, that’s what I eat pretty much every day. But nothing on them.

Me: Not even condiments? Ketchup?

Sean: ABSOLUTELY NO KETCHUP – I hate it. And nothing else.

Me: So just a plain burger on a bun…do you like cheese?

Sean: Nope

Sean likes plain burgers, plain pasta and possibly some calamari (although I probably devoured that by myself).

At some point, he mentioned that he was a very simple “meat and potatoes kind of guy” so when he asked to see me again in Manhattan, I suggested Keens – a very well-known steakhouse that I had wanted to try for a long time. He seemed okay with Keens. He wasn’t over-the-moon like I was to be anywhere that was considered a classic. Yet he seemed content enough to order a steak. Like any nice meal, his steak had some random vegetables on it and I pointed out that the cherry tomatoes looked good. At that point, I think he was really trying to make me happy. He put the tiny tomato in his mouth and immediately spit it out. He was mortified. Flushed and tearing, shaking his head and sticking his tongue out, he glanced at me and I’m pretty sure I saw a little contempt in his eyes. I guess he wasn’t ready for a tomato.

Once I licked my plate clean of whatever I had been gratefully served, we exited the restaurant. Sean texted me later that night to let me know he had made it home (to the burbs) safely. I thanked him for a lovely time, and he said, “Yeah, I enjoyed it. But you made me eat a tomato.” It was like I committed murder and it was confusing to actually experience some guilt about something so ridiculously insignificant.

I have no idea why Sean asked me to hang out again. I had to turn him down. I love food too much for that sort of anxiety and trepidation to be repeated.

A Post That Warrants Sharing Everywhere

tiger

A friend sent me the following post and told me it reminded her of me. I am honored – since it is extremely well-written, but also horrified that so many girls are dealing with the world of the “dating” lunatic.

My favorite quote from the post is not even directly from the writer, but from none other than Cher from Clueless, whose scripted words from nearly 20 years ago still remain true in my current reality:

Check out this interesting post, note that the writer actually knows how to well…umm…WRITE! Most importantly, please note that those of us dealing with such oddities are not alone:

http://jezebel.com/the-tragic-tale-of-the-blind-date-dick-pic-1608292704

Tales of the Tinder: “Tinderella” and Paranoia

Being a modern lady, I believe that it is my duty to try out the latest platform for singles to meet. For those of you who are not familiar with it, Tinder is an app that connects your Facebook “About Me” section along with your Facebook photos to create a geo-tagged profile page for you. Once a profile is created, you can search for people by gender, age and distance from you. Two people will not be able to communicate with each other until they both choose to like each other or “swipe right” on each other’s profiles. More questions? Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure I will cover every detail at some point.

A few notes on Tinder for the paranoid / non-single / “happily married”:

– Um, no Facebook doesn’t tell everyone that you’re a loser searching online for dates

– It’s really not that interesting – and works pretty much like every other online dating site – meaning you still have to filter out the crazies. Yet, for some reason – everyone I know is dying to check it out like it’s a new toy that they want to play with – how did that happen?

– In my opinion, it is solely based on photos, and I’m okay with that. Those who are on it and complain about that factor should use another site or app. The people who argue against the “superficial” nature of Tinder are most likely the same people who say they “hate talking about themselves” in their written profiles and direct users to “just ask if you want to know anything else” on other sites.

– It is for people who are looking to hook up or date! If you have a profile on there, don’t tell me you are just “peeking around.” More on those winners in a bit..

This eye-opening video was sent to me by a co-worker who claimed that, as a blogger that writes about dating, it is my duty to view, share and emphasize the fact that, in general, like EVERY OTHER ONLINE DATING SITE, men certainly do view Tinder differently than women:

Like I said: filter out the crazies. More to come!

My Miniature South African and his Love of Anything Cultural

Oh Gavin, you were absolutely perfect on paper…or on my computer screen, as it were.

“Why haven’t I written to you sooner?” was the first sentence of my response to the gallant message that Gavin, the South African psychologist (yes, you read that right) penned for me via JDate.

He was charming, educated and looked really handsome in his photos. Gavin seemed to be a dream come true. But pssh, I’ve dealt with that one before. I wasn’t going to get ahead of myself. Well…besides imagining how cute our half South African babies would be and all of the international traveling our whole future family would be doing…

He chose a cute wine bar that is less than a 5 minute walk from my office. If I remember correctly, Gavin was already at a table when I got there. First detail I noted was that he definitely wasn’t as handsome and was definitely a few inches shorter than he appeared to be in his profile photos. But he wasn’t necessarily bad looking, had that awesome South African accent…and a J-O-B! It was a bit intimidating that he worked to evaluate and treat inmates with psychological and mental care at a very well-known prison in the tri-state area. But hey – we all have to make a buck.

So, while he wasn’t as physically attractive as I thought, he did have a brain that he actually used in dialogue. It was the beginning of September when we had our date and the upcoming Jewish holidays were brought up (by him). I’m pretty sure he asked me how I would be celebrating the Jewish New Year. I think that is the case because when I replied that I will be celebrating with some of the usual family members, then asked what his plans were, his reply was, “We will Tashlich and do the Selichot with our Machzor. It should be a joyous yontif.”

So I just sipped my wine. Wow, I thought, this guy is really Jewish. He just spoke in mostly Yiddish and I have no idea what he said.

We had also ordered a selection of cheeses at the bar, and as with literally any cheese product I eat, all of them were delicious. I made a comment about how tasty the cheese was and Gavin’s reply was, “Oh I know – I love this epoisses. It tastes like it’s by Isigny Sainte Mere – but I’m not sure, are you? I have another type of this at home. I keep it with my challerhocker in the fromage decoupage.”

Crickets.

gavin

http://chowhound.chow.com/topics/920325

Once again, I had no reply. Who the heck knows the names of all of the fancy cheeses and has them in their home? I have always been a “curd nerd,” thinking that any cheese type will do. Packaged American cheese slices? Delish! String cheese? Great for breakfast. Basically, anything. But this fancy talk was way over my [cheese] head.

I think at some point, Gavin decided that he couldn’t accept my ignorance because our parting was final and I never heard from him again. He might have left his psychologist gig (which – by the way – would have been really interesting to learn about – had he brought it up!) and became a cheese instructor for the Yiddish…Who knows.

Gay ga zinta hate.