“My friend’s teenaged daughter is on a date tonight and I’m at home watching ‘Catching Fire’ again and waiting for pizza delivery. I suck.”
“Do you WANT to be on a date?”
“Fuck no, that sounds exhausting.”
Right, then. That was easy.
It occurs to me that if there ever IS a man in this bed, I am such a miserable shit first thing in the morning that I couldn’t let him spend the night. Or he’d have to sleep in another room and agree to leave me alone until the meds, coffee, and a hairbrush make me eligible for human contact.
“Sorry, man. ‘Cute and easygoing’ doesn’t show up ‘til, like, 11. Right now we’re at ‘bridge troll.’”
Therapist: “So, how’s dating? Have you written anyone back on the apps?”
Me: “Of course not, don’t be absurd.”
Therapist: “You know, if you don’t WANT to be dating…”
Me: “It’s not that I don’t WANT to. It’s just… Like we’ve talked about, I want someone who’ll fit into my life, which is pretty decent with just me — well, minus the depressive bits. And I’d SUPER like to have some sex. But about once a month I’ll hear something terrible about a man and I’ll think, ‘Ya know…I don’t really need one of those. Dying alone is fine.’ So I guess I’m just not in a hurry.”
I saw a guy on Bumble I might like to get to know better, but his profile said “SB/SD welcome.”
I am An Old and had NO idea what that meant. So I Googled it at work, which is how you should always learn about something you’ve never heard of that’s pretty likely to be some freaky sex shit.
Not REALLY, but turns out it’s “sugar baby/sugar daddy,” and…ew.
Dude, I just wanna fuck you — why you gotta make it weird?
The only way I need YOU to pamper me is by going down on me for a respectable length of time. I can handle my own…spa treatments or jewelry or whatever the hell.
Plus, I think I’m too old to be a “sugar baby.” I threw up in my mouth a bit just typing it. 🤢
I mean… I don’t go to friends’ parties SPECIFICALLY so I can hook up with their friends, but I’m not gonna lie, it does eliminate some of the legwork. Like, OK, I already know you’re not a serial killer or a Trump supporter. Neat. What else ya got?
If there’s something weird that CAN happen with an ex-boyfriend, that weird thing is going to happen to me.
“Hey, what’s up, we never actually DATED 15 years ago, we just slept together, and never spoke again after I told you that needed to stop. But sure, by all means, send me a Facebook message request (because we’re not FB friends) that’s just the automated wave.”
I dated…SO many weirdos, you guys. And it’s ALWAYS the weirdos. No ex I WANT to hear from ever contacts me.
Also, I should mention that HIS WIFE has viewed my LinkedIn profile at least three times over the years. Maybe I’m in the running to be their guest star. (🤞🏼🤞🏼🤞🏼!)
If you’ve never had your brain telling you you’re an undateable garbage monster on the SAME day you realize the last person you dated is now in a seemingly happy relationship and that you haven’t had ONE date since you broke up three YEARS ago…I highly, HIGHLY recommend it.
Bright side: I honestly didn’t realize it was him. I think I forgot what he looked like?
So clearly a very serious “relationship.”
One of my dating matches asked about my “guilty pleasure” entertainment choices, and aside from “I never feel guilty about pleasure,” which just sounds filthy in a way I’m not yet going for… I dunno, I’m pretty open about the lame shit I like. I’m not trying to make a guy go to a Pistol Annies show with me, or watch “Jane the Virgin,” or go see “Legally Blonde: the Musical” the 47 more times I’M totally gonna go see it before it leaves Philly. I don’t need you for that.
I mean, I AM gonna need you to like John Mulaney so I know you’re not a goddamn soulless monster, but I don’t feel guilty about that at all. A lady has to have standards, sir.
I spoke to my therapist about my anxiety in talking to men on dating apps, and she said, “Well, if you don’t want to, you don’t want to, and that’s perfectly fine. But all the other things you said might be holding you back, you don’t seem sure you don’t want to. And the only way you’re going to be sure is if you try.”
So I wrote to FIVE entire Bumble guys, including Hot Chef, and of course everyone except Hot Chef wrote me back. *grumble* FINE.
But also, and this is the important part — they wrote me back, and then, after 24 hours of still feeling like I might throw up every time I tried to respond, I DID respond.
Full disclosure: It REALLY helps when it’s early and all you have to do to “respond” is copy/paste what you did over the weekend. But I DID it, is the point. So hopefully I’ll have an answer, an orgasm, or at least some quality first-date stories, soon.
Smug Singleton 