Online Dating Nightmare: The Sangria Saga

Sangria Saga

When I’m single, I usually have very short windows of opportunity to embrace singlehood to the fullest. I know this might pass off as wildly obnoxious, it is, but that’s just how it’s happened for me (so bite me).

There are downsides to this however: being the “perpetually-in-a-relationship” one within your mostly single group of friends feels like you’re missing out on the fun stupid shit and raunchy/sexy/embarrassing tale-telling that usually result from bachelordom. And so, when the chance came around again during summer of 2014, yours truly jumped on the virtual bandwagon.

I had never done online dating nor been on a blind date before, so, being an overachiever on a time-constraint, I orchestrated an online-dating blind first date. Yup, you heard me. How the fuck does that happen? Guy and I exchanged many emails, but no pictures. I thought, hell, here’s an intelligent motherfucker that can hold a conversation. How refreshing! So screw the pictures, let’s just meet. And why not; two birds one stone, right? As it turns out, I clearly needed to rethink my strategy because that meet-up was the first and the last nail in the coffin of my budding tech-savvy dating life.

Worst date ever. On the plus side, it’s also my best “worst date” story to date.

So, I meet this guy, Old Port, public area. Oh dear god.

Let’s just say I was banking on his “really nice personality”.

Jardin Nelson, the place I suggested, had too long of a wait, so we went elsewhere. RELIEF. I can still show my face there! But hey, calm your tits. Before you start labeling me as a shallow bitch (I am, but not the point), let me clarify: this guy was a world-class jerk.

The fake name, fake age, and what I suspect as fake teeth, should’ve sounded the first alarm. I tell myself to be open-minded. Personality, Personality, Personality. We sit down, order a pitcher of sangria.

Rookie mistake. Never commit to more than a glass of anything before the other person can open his/her mouth. Because once we were served, my “intelligent conversationalist” (cannot air quote this enough) went on a tirade about questions like “Why men make more money than women?” [Hint: they’re the smarter gender, apparently] And ,continued his monologue on the things he loves most in life: cars, money, bitches. Surprise surprise, his parents were not on that list. Way to leave a lasting impression, bro.

This experience made me realize a couple of things.

First, I’m way too polite for my own good because, yes, I stayed to finish the whole pitcher. I had a “Let’s embrace the insanity” moment. Plus, I can’t think of a more appropriate time for alcohol. Next time, I know to pick my jaw off the table and unapologetically walk the fuck out.

Second, it’s too easy to get enthralled over the ‘ideal’ picture someone paints about themselves online. Over half the people admit to lying online on some level, if that’s not the shadiest shit you’ve ever heard. Face-to-face real-time responses, that’s a better indicator of someone’s true nature; not the well thought-up words put on paper, or a webpage.

Would I ever try online dating again? Holy fuck. Not at this point in my life. Maybe one day, when I can dedicate some proper time in getting to know somebody, do my homework, and not rush through the process the way I did. For now, I’ll stick to good ol’ fashioned bar hookups, cause that’s still working fine for me. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it!

Til then, I’ll remain content by online dating vicariously through my friends, snatching their phones and playing the “hot or not” game on their Tinder accounts. Shhh!

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