Date 3
CyBorg calls and wants to meet up on a Tuesday night for drinks. After my prior 2 internet dates, I'm a little reluctant to go. It's starting to feel like work, for crying out loud. The stilted phone conversations, the half-hour-before-meeting nerves, the instant snap judgment on level of attractiveness, the horribly awkward first 10 minutes where you have no idea what to say to each other, the nagging feeling of being trapped once the whole thing starts...I don't particularly feel like going through it again. But CyBorg has been so nice that I agree. I invited him to my favorite neighborhood bar and he met me there. He is a huge guy, absolutely enormous. While not my type physically, he is certainly attractive. And he is as sweet as can be. Nervous, fidgety, afraid to make eye contact; he warmed up after a few beers. He is highly intelligent and our conversation was pointed and interesting. I went through the entire internet dating process again, the nerves, the judgment, the distinct trapped feeling, the connected conversation, the asking of relevant questions, the listening intently. I like this person, he is perfectly lovely, but not enough for me to want to be sitting across a table from him on a subzero Tuesday night. What I really want is to tear into some Doritos on my couch, parked in front of ‘American Idol'. I fear that I have run my course with internet dating after only 3 dates. I'm wussing out and being a huge baby. I don't really want to do this anymore.
I think the thing is this: dating, any dating is stressful. It's full of potential pitfalls, because your entire being is scrutinized, and you must scrutinize in return. It's tiring to be witty and smart and cool so consistently, when really...you just want to knock back a few beers with a buddy and gossip about your other friends. Having to go through the process continually can really start to get you down. It also highlights the fact that it's really really hard to find someone you click with. Your odds are miniscule, really, and you can go on internet dates until the cows come home but it doesn't mean you're increasing your chances for true love. You're just going out more, spending more money and exhausting yourself.
Date 4: The Final Straw
I'm incredibly shallow these days, I admit it. Internet dating has turned me from a sweet, loving and giving person, into a wannabe recluse, shut-in, couch potato. I have almost no energy left for the awkwardness of it all; the phone calls, the choosing of an appropriate yet not too slutty outfit, the uncomfortable date itself, the requisite after-date summation with my girlfriends, etc. It's all too much and I'm officially over it. I don't want to go on any dates for a long time. I want to watch The Bachelorette and go to bed by 10 with my book instead. I'm looking at people who have cats and/or HBO On Demand enviably. Then I get a voicemail message from BklynGuy, and he has invited me to (gasp) see the Rangers vs. Colorado at Madison Square Garden. I'm totally in. I had mentioned in my profile that I'm a lifelong Rangers fan, and BklynGuy went and got himself a pair of tickets. How could I not be impressed? And it's the Rangers! How could I not go?! All of this begs the question, however, of what he is doing potentially wasting a Rangers ticket on a complete stranger? Is he that hard-up for a date? You'd think he would take a buddy, someone he knows he'll have a great time with. I'm concerned that the offer smacks of desperation, but it's the Rangers. These are the kinds of moral dilemmas that I never anticipated when I logged on just a few weeks ago and started shopping for men. What happens when you begin to find some of these guys pathetic? It makes you feel horrible, like you've used someone and thrown him away. Like you are cruel and shallow for not liking him that way. The guilt is starting to get to me.
I was walking down 8th Avenue on my way to meet BklynGuy, and as I approached the Garden, I ran into an ex-boyfriend who was also going to the game. I hadn't talked to Ben in a few months; he is one of those on again/off again boyfriends, and has been since I was about 14. We have an enormous history, and despite how crazy he frequently makes me, he always ends up back in my good graces. He makes me laugh, almost harder than anyone I know; for that, I will love the guy forever. We hugged and exchanged our recent news, a little awkward, but because of the stormy nature of our relationship, it's nothing we haven't pushed through before. He smiled and sheepishly said, "You're probably going on a date right now, huh?" I explained that I was, but that this time I was really going as a writer, not a dater. He wished me luck and I headed into the Garden to meet Bklyn. As I walked away, some truths about dating became a little clearer to me. Here was this man that I have loved and respected for 14 years, who I just wanted to sit with and have a beer and a couple of laughs. If I could have blown off my date and watched the game with Ben, I would have done it in an instant. There is just no substituting for chemistry, and there is no substituting for the comfort of letting your hair down and screaming for the Rangers with an old friend.
The date was a horror show. I wish I could say that I was pleasantly surprised, but it just wasn't meant to be. BklynGuy was quite possibly the geekiest person I've ever met, he was practically a sketch character on Saturday Night Live. All he could seem to talk about was his "Scrabble Club", even going so far as to fill me in on which words he has gotten high scores with, 'unitard' was a particular favorite. He kept making bad jokes, really corny ones, and I'd have to politely fake some laughter. He would inform me, after a particularly good play by the Rangers, "I told them! I told them to do that!" as he bowled over in peals of laughter at his own lame joke. I felt like I was on Candid Camera, or at the very least being X'ed on the Jamie Kennedy Show. To make a strange situation even worse, Bklyn kept punctuating his points with a squeeze of my knee, or an elbow into my arm. I spent the entire date trying desperately to get my entire body as far to the left of my small Madison Square Garden stadium seat as possible, squished uncomfortably into one side of the chair to avoid any further bodily contact. This wasn't just a date; this was an exercise in perseverance, grinning while bearing it taken to the extreme. And maybe I was just being overly sensitive, but I swear I noticed a group of cute guys sitting diagonally to us laughing at me. There was one who was particularly cute, and he kept smiling sympathetically at me, as if to say, "You poor girl. I see what's happening here, you are clearly stuck on the worst blind date of your life. Wish you could come sit with us instead." And oh how I wish I could have. Anything...anything to get away from Bklyn and his guffawing over the time he tried to play the word ‘imp' for a double-word score.
The Rangers lost 4-3 in overtime, and we headed out of the stadium with the throng of disappointed fans. As we neared the entrance to the Garden, Bklyn asked me if I would come join him for a few drinks. I politely begged off, using the late finish of the game and my need to be at work early the next day as an excuse. He was persistent, "come on...come on!" while shoving his elbow into me. I had to get a little more firm, "No thank you. I really need to go. But thank you so much for the ticket to the game, I really had a nice time." It was at that point that something dark came over Bklyn's face, something snapped and he was clearly angry and feeling rejected. As we began to take the steps to head outside I said (desperately trying to diffuse the situation), "I think there is a quicker way to get to the subway if we head to the right, we don't even need to go outside." To which he curtly hissed, "Well sorry if YOU don't want to go outside, PRINCESS." I think I actually stopped in my tracks; I'd had just about enough. I turned to him and in my best 2nd grade teacher voice, said, "Actually, I was only thinking of avoiding the crowds outside. Oh, and I'm definitely not a princess." That was the end of the date. I thanked him again and headed right towards the subway. It was my last internet date. I've scarcely been more thrilled to walk through the turnstile and onto the downtown 1 train. I had gotten through 4 dates with 4 strangers, and now I was on my own again. I felt deliriously free.
So what have I learned through this frantic rush of internet dating? That's its no substitute for the real experience of meeting someone, liking them for one reason or another, and deciding to get together after that point of initial attraction. That a connection will rarely be spontaneously generated based on a few emails. That there are millions of single men, and just because they can write a witty profile, doesn't mean that you will have anything in common in person. That dating is often times a chore, and is usually much less exciting than you thought it would be. That I'm getting older and pickier, and I know I'm not going to settle on a relationship that is not totally right for me. That hanging out with the girls is often times a better idea than struggling through an awkward few hours with a stranger. That no matter how far technology comes, I prefer to stick to tradition. Will I ever delve into online love again? I need a break from it right now, but I'm not so crass as to say never again. Maybe. But not right now. Right now my couch is calling, and American Idol starts in a few minutes. I'm putting on my pj's and breaking out the Doritos. I'm about to enjoy the best date I've had in weeks. I, for one, cannot wait...
