He was 3048 feet away from me the entire time we were talking. And it never altered, not even once. “Doesn’t he pee?” I wondered.
There’s a lot of great things about internet dating. Like instead of awkwardly approaching a woman in a bar, doing it via email while sitting on the couch watching Family Feud.
Why, after too many terrible dates to count, and only a handful of encounters that can reasonably be deemed successes, am I still trying to meet people online? I mean, if every time you opened your front door, a guy hit you in the face with a hammer, you’d probably stop opening the front door, right?
Most of the ads were typical: “Wanna go skiing? I’ll provide, you host,” or “I just moved here, I’m really shy.” But it didn’t take long to find one that interested me, that actually excited me. He was looking for someone to exchange emails with, I think—I don’t remember his exact words but the intention behind the ad seemed innocent and not of the “blowing cocaine off of each other’s bodies” nature.
Never say never (by Brandy) but as of this moment, I have yet to actually use a website like OkCupid to go on a date. Why? Because I’m weird and old-fashioned and want to meet someone while fighting over the last banana at a grocery store. Don’t judge!
When Daniel and I first started messaging each other on Facebook, Tweeting at each other and Skype chatting, I had the immediate instinct that when he got to New York we were going to fuck and that it was an unavoidable causal effect of us knowing each other. I’d never met him but I was drawn to him in the intrinsic way that a drunk is drawn to a cheeseburger—I wanted to have him even though he was only being served miles away.
Bring in the potential mate/interested party. The background isn’t important, but make sure it pairs well with our main ingredient. Use lean meat, aged, but not moldy. Strong enough to be a main dish, but here, works well as a pairing. Once upon a time this was important to really pin down and get it perfect, but as time has gone on and this recipe has had time to mature, there is more liberty here than ever before.
Something I hear from people who are closer to 50 (i.e. death) than they are to 25 (i.e. my current age/the pinnacle of existence) is that being online all the time is not really living. My generation: we talk without meaning anything, travel without going anywhere, emote without feeling shit. Can we not turn off Twitter for like one minute?
Go with him to touristy places all over Manhattan, like Battery City and Central Park and the Empire State Building. Abandon your negative attitude about tourist traps simply because you love spending time with him, even if it’s in Midtown. In all events predating 2000, defer to his cultivated wisdom. Feel close to him by claiming you are an old soul, already world weary at 21.
I had a crush on a character from every single TV show that ran from 1989-2000. It was only as an adult that I realized how deeply my feelings for fictional characters were rooted. I was flipping through channels, and who should I see but Michelangelo, whipping his nunchucks, being super hot and aloof. Next thing I know, I’m swooning and having flash backs of my “first time.” WHOA.