As I once again take my lunch at the local coffee shop, sipping once again, Terrorist Funded Coffee, it brings to mind one of the reasons that I am totally hating on being single, and yet feel that I have no recourse over my current situation. Believe me, I have not been sitting around waiting for some dude to come riding up to me on a white horse, offering to take away all of my loneliness in exchange for leaving all that I know behind and running away with him. Although that may be the next option on my list.
Just as a little peep hole into my head, I feel that I need to share this. There are 2 kinds of people in this world that I cannot deal with: Hypocrites – those who say one thing and then do the EXACT opposite, and those who bitch about their problems, but do nothing to solve them. I once worked with a diabetic who was constantly complaining about his blood sugar and how he might have to go on insulin sometime soon and how he just didn’t understand WHY his blood sugar was still SO uncontrolled. “Well,” I said, “it might have something to do with the fact that all you do is drink Dr. Pepper at work all day in between runs to the vending machine for Doritos and Frito’s. Come on! Are you fucking kidding me?!” Needless to say, our friendship never amounted to much, but I digress. It dawned on me this morning that there is a possibility that there are others out there with a similar mindset as myself when it comes to people bitching about their problems, and I just wanted to go on record by saying that I am NOT one of those people. If I were, rest assured, I would have shot myself long ago.
Although I moan and complain incessently about being single, I have attempted, multiple times, to NOT be single anymore. I have gone on blind dates, I have vainly pursued those who I was attracted to, I have had people try to set me up with a single friend of theirs, I have met guys at bars, I have met people via the dreaded myspace and other super awful web based means. I’d have to say that my distaste for internet dating comes from the fact that I have tried, and struck out horribly, on each and every internet dating site that there is known to me. eHarmony (dot) com, Match (dot) com, Chemistry (dot) com…All of which I attempted for a minimum of 3 months and all of which have given me no form of hope in that period of time to warrent extending my membership. I should have known that it would all end in disaster as one of my initial reactions was finding the cost of finding someone to date online to be rather pricey. Anywhere from $35 to $50 a MONTH just to meet other people who are shelled up in their homes on their computers at all hours of the night? Shit, I could go get piss-ass drunk with that kinda money and just take some random guy home with me and hope it all works out to be more than a drunken one night stand. But alas, I am a romantic at heart and one night stands and I do NOT get along. I’m too much of a girl and I get too involved emotionally as soon as the sex card comes into play. So I instead attempted to find my lost soul mate via the computer, with disastrous results. My most recent, and most horrifying, internet dating story comes from a guy I met on Match (dot) com. He was cute, a musician, had similar interests, was funny, laughed at MY jokes, didn’t hold anything against me when I told him about my menagerie of pets and he thought I was cute. All the makings for a fantastic time, despite the fact that he had this weird aversion about being called “Mikey.” So, as is the normal quid pro quo of meeting people online, we talked via email for about a week or so and then decided to meet. We exchanged phone numbers and I called him on a Saturday evening to try to organize something, spur of the moment. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out as planned since he was going to a different bar with some friends than I was going to with some of my friends…so we vowed to set an actual “date” up and talk to each other on the day of in order to better plan a time to meet.
Skip to the following Tuesday: I called Mike, his name really WAS/IS Mike but the chances of him ever reading this are those of an ice cube’s in hell, so I’m not afraid to use his real name. So, I called Mike shortly after I got home that evening, as was the plan. He didn’t answer the phone, so me, being slightly optimistic at that point (I know, a rarity) decided that maybe he just didn’t put my number into his phone and therefore just didn’t realize that it was the wondrous and awesome ME that was calling him. I left a message to the effect of “If you’re still interested in getting together tonight, give me a ring back at *insert phone number here*. I’m home. Talk soon. Unrequited.” To waste some time until I heard from him, I thought to check my numerous internet accounts – whether it be one of my multiple email accounts, myspace, facebook, any of the dating sites that I was a member of at any given time didn’t matter. Then, in the midst of checking these things, I found an email that Mike had sent me just about 15 minutes before I called him. Silly me, I thought he was maybe just trying to reschedule or get in touch with me while he knew I was still at work…something more positive than what it actually was.
The email read:
I’m so sorry that I have to break our date. I was really looking forward to it, but I’ve just gotten back with my ex gf. I’m so sorry. Take care.
Seriously, all I could do was laugh. My romantic life is such a septic system I would have been MORE surprised had the guy actually followed through and met me for coffee. I think the best part of it all was that he was sorry that he had to “break our date”… I give that rebounded relationship 6 months. Best of luck, Mikey.
I’ve gotta run unfortunately, as I could continue on this tirade for months to come, but I have a date with a street corner and a sign which I made that says: “Will make dinner for a date!” I always heard that the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach, maybe I’ll stir up a winner.