Dating can be complicated. There’s all this weird tension because each person thinks there’s certain expectations at the end of the night. Do we kiss? Was he into this? Should we get another drink and ask the same questions again to see if the answers change?
Online dating is even worse. The expectations aren’t just involving “chemistry.” Everything gets laid out on the table. “Are you planning to stay in this city?” “Do you want to have kids?” “Would you stay with someone if they couldn’t/wouldn’t want to have kids?” “What’s your timeline for marriage?” “How soon would you like to meet my family?”
Oh my God. Ew. It’s like someone takes a speculum and pries open your vagina only to pour rubbing alchohol inside and watch you squirm. How uncomfortable do you feel right now? Aside, of course, from that lovely image I just burned into your mind.
For those of you who are unfamiliar with my online dating escapades, feel free to take a moment to get up to speed here.
During my six months of awkward first dates and giving out weird side hugs as a pathetic means of letting that person know I would never be seeing them again, but thanks again for buying my dinner, I learned that dating comes down to one thing: honesty.
If you’re trying to paint yourself out to be sweet or lovely or perfect or any other adjective that’s not remotely true (Not that you’re not any of the above – but PMS is real, bitches. Lezbehonest.), it’s not going to bode well in the end. Here’s how it goes. The guy will probably think he’s met his dream girl – one that directly reflects the entirely innaccurate portrait of a sports-loving, acne-free, laughs-all-the-time-at-your-stupid-jokes, daintily tinkles and never farts, giggling beauty that never ever ever ever ever wants to fight and always agrees with whatever her maaaaaan says and thinks. And then Aunt Flo will come for a visit. And she’ll turn Miss Priss into a roaring monster with a mild case of Tourettes. And said man will flee because he was duped into an alternate reality, and he’ll spend the rest of his life believing that all girls are cray cray.
And we are. But word to the wise – gents, if your lady friend somehow magically fits every description above prior to the mention of The Exorcist, and she claims she’s just “not like other women,” she’s a fucking liar and you’re the idiot who’s about to get ass raped by her menstrual shitstorm.
So back to honesty.
I find it’s best to just lay out all of your dirty laundry from the start. That way, you have no expectations, and there’s no frustrating “But whyyyyy???!!!” sob sessions at the end of a two month run. Instead, you can either avoid the two month run altogether or enter into it with each partner knowing exactly what they’re walking into.
Think of your first date as the presentation of a resume. You can talk about the prerequisites: family, friends, work, travel, blah, blah, blah. And then once you’ve gotten through the “experience” and “education” bits, you can spend the rest of the allotted time diving right into your “special skills.” These are the deal breakers and makers, people. The nitty gritty. The do all end all. The…
Shutting up now.
I present to you my personal skills. Beware, for they are sexy and will probably cause uncontrollable moaning and moisture for all involved.
- Can form a double chin on command.
- If given enough wine, will do a Dreamgirls impression including but not limited to: using cookies as props to cover up breasts, then crumbling them and shoving them down her shirt.
- Has won numerous honors for “Most Potent Farts.”
- Uses “fuck” as often as possible in everyday conversation.
- Always has a vulgar joke on hand.
- Racist/rapist/women/gay/Helen Keller jokes are never off-limits.
- Has no shame in talking on the phone while taking a shit.
- Overshares every sexual detail to anyone who will listen.
- Considers raw cookie dough part of daily nutrition.
- Has been known to pee her pants when prompted to uncontrollably laugh.
- May at any point start speaking in a German accent, a New Jersey accent, a British accent, a Southern accent, and any and all possible other accents for no reason at all. There is potential for this to occur during sexcapades, which will most likely result in said partner getting either a mad case of the softies and/or thinking she is a serial rapist.
- Finds offensive humor to be hilarious and can’t understand why women are offended by a recent feminine wipes campaign (you may view it here)
- Wet the bed somewhat recently (let’s just say in about the 10th grade) due to a particularly vivid dream about swimming in a fish tank.
- Has a cocker spaniel who only busts out the lipstick when around males. He is a confirmed gay.
- Shares many things in common with her father, but the most important being they have both been inside her mother’s vagina.
- Has at times used a deadly combination of acting skills and tears to coerce her younger brothers into giving her what she wants.
- Relished the power of being the first born and having the ability of throwing said younger brothers in timeout as a child.
- Also relishes making people suffer the potent reek of her farts by duping them into smelling her new perfume.
- True Love: Is There an App For That? (laurabwilliamsdesigns.wordpress.com)
- Let’s (Gamify) Date(ing), And Make It Addicting In The Process (techcrunch.com)
- hey i just messaged you…and this is crazy… (heyyyitsjenn.wordpress.com)
- Dating Online: The Coward (julietjeske.wordpress.com)
- Mobile Apps Tap the Changing Face of Online Dating (sci-tech-today.com)
- Paul Rudd: ‘Farts are hilarious’ (contactmusic.com)
- Blah. Blah. Blah (myjourneymyrules.wordpress.com)