We all know that dating is hard. Or at least I assume so. After the one boyfriend I had in high school, I haven't even gotten beyond the, "Is he safe enough to tell him my real name" part of it. You see, I apparently appeal to the type of guy that has to be completely shitfaced to talk to me. Actually, not talk, sing to me while plugging my name in random parts of a song or proceeding to tell me I'm dumb that I don't understand his type of humor even though we're going to be married with a bunch of kids. That was a low night, but it happened nonetheless.
Other experiences include a married soon-to-be father wanting a secret relationship (who still messages me occasionally at late hours of the night), a guy pushing me to the ground when I wouldn't make out with him, a date judging my intelligence and thought I was dumb while proceeding to tell me he'd lick mustard off my arm in public, someone stalking me at work and then got angry I declined his offer of a date, and another asking me to bring my friends along, but don't worry, he won't do anything they're not okay with. At least he came with a warning label. My hero.
Maybe it's because I was introduced to Jane Austen before I hit puberty, but I kind of expected men to be a little more... decent. I'm not expecting a horse drawn carriage or for him to save me from a lack of money due to the family fortune having to be passed down to men. We as a society are no longer enduring those types of social rules, but I guess we forfeited decency along with it. Don't even get me started on the Neanderthal conversation starters brought on by Tinder. Jane Austen and all her beloved characters would be appalled by the messages I, and many other women, have received.
I went to a wedding this weekend and saw this amazingly attractive guy. Tall, bearded, and assumingly with one of the gorgeous bridesmaids. I don't typically approach this type of guy because my idea of a good time is eating a pint of coffee ice cream while talking through old Disney movies. I don't think tall, bearded manly men go for that kind of girl. Mainly because no one of that stature has ever come up to me in interest. But wouldn't you know it, it turned out he had been looking for me the whole night. Whaaaaaaaaaaaat? As I was leaving he said, "There will be a next time, right?" So I gave him my number. I thought I wasn't going to hear from him ever again but he messaged me immediately. Too good to be true?
After a few messages, I slowly started to feel obligated to keep the conversation going. It seemed as though the only way I could make sure he replied was by asking questions about him. "What do you do? Oh that sounds cool, what is that? What's your stance on tacos?" I was the only one sending questions. It may be that I honestly don't know how to talk to guys through text, but I wasn't even given a chance. The minute I didn't know something about what he was talking about, he was clearly uninterested and I was left trying to figure out how to keep his attention.
Then I realized that that wasn't my job. Why do I have to be the one to think of a witty repertoire just to make sure this painstakingly handsome man would continue to notice me? Do I really have to put in 82% of the effort of a conversation to ensure my chance of getting a guy to like me? Once I realized I wasn't going to get any questions of interest from him, I stopped asking. I was mentally drained thinking of what to ask, what he thought of me, and if I really cared if I wanted this to go anywhere. No amount of good looks (though there were plenty) would make me feel like I wasn't enough for this guy that I barely knew.
Maybe it was because I didn't immediately throw myself at him. I didn't offer up my boobs, butt, or any other part of my body right after we exchanged names. That's what the majority of guys on Tinder, Bumble, bars, Omegle, the sidewalk, or even school have asked of me. Why would this guy be different?
What happened in history that made this type of behavior permissible? Was there a sudden shift of men turning into pigs or was it a gradual evolution? We came from monkeys to men to only turn back into animals. Is it really so that I now have to be 100% interested in everything a guy says while maintaining my own level of an interesting personality to the point where a guy doesn't even have to ask about me but if I'm brought up in casual conversation I may entice him to learn more about me in a non sexual way? Just typing that was a hot mess. But it ridiculously and honestly seems true.
Based on my experiences, I have to be stunning enough to capture your attention but that's where it ends. From there, I don't have to hold your attention because I'm now supposed to find everything about you appealing - your job I didn't know existed, your humor that is offensive, your work out routine that sounds exhausting and boring, and your opinions on my bra size. But at least one of those is about me, right? I should be so lucky.
These are reasons why I am content with being single for the rest of my life. I would gladly take on the life of a spinster if it meant I didn't have to play this half assed game of cat and mouse where the cat isn't really chasing because there isn't actually a mouse.
Now, I know there are guys that aren't reverting to our primal ancestors. My brother has always been a gentleman and the wedding I went to had a groom that was said to be, "one of the few left". Which is exactly how I feel. It's like the chances of buying a winning lottery ticket. Or even finding a Charizard on Pokémon Go. You have to be in the right location at the right time to find one. "One" being a nice guy that is willing to actually talk with you and maybe laugh at your jokes.
So what's my solution to all this? Find a 60 year old man that understands chivalry but risk the possibility of racism and/or sexism? Wait for another generation to come around that hopefully has been raised to value dual sided conversation but probably become a Cougar (because it'll take years)? Start attending church and hope that there's someone that won't guilt me for pretty much any choices I've made for the past 5 years?
Or how about I focus on my job, my family, my friends, my Netflix account, and me. If there's someone willing and able to go above my expectations of men, which have drastically plummeted recently, then that means I have two wishes left and genies are real.