No Jack, I am not blinkin’ flying…

I wish my life read like an e.e Cummings poem… With hearts being carried, where everyone has a darling and fates are not feared.

But alas, in a world of Tinder and Plenty of Fish, it’s pretty bloody unlikely. And let’s be honest nowadays if some bloke wrote a poem as beautiful as Mr Cummings fine work, we’d all be a little freaked out and run for the nearest hills, and they wouldn’t be full of the sound of music, that’s for sure.

Now don’t get me wrong, I’m all for Internet dating. With a somewhat busy existence and with most of my friends married or in long term committed relationships… I’m not gonna find the bloke I want whilst shit faced on a few pints because I’m now a light weight, shaking it off to Taylor Swift – besides nobody wants to see that! And I’m certainly not going to meet anyone whilst I’m snuggled up with the cat watching episode after episode of whatever boxset I’m obsessed with on netflix…

So I’ve been branching out more into the Internet dating realms and I have to tell you, it ain’t pretty and it’s a little bit frightening… If I’m not getting messages saying ‘what up babe, you’re a stunner’ – great opener btw lads! I get messages longer than my arm about how I need to open my mind to new possibilities and experiences which not so subtly, then lead to being asked if I fancy a threesome with them and their other half. Cheers then!

And they’re just the tame ones.

Occasionally, very occasionally there’ll be a little flutter of excitement as Tinder ceremoniously announces that ‘congratulations! You have a match’ and it’s the fit one I was hoping for, messages flow as easily as Merlot between me and my mate Kate Furnifer, and I allow myself a wee bit of a squee and run off into the sunset of my mind planning the next 20 years of my life.

Then there’s the planning of a date and of course there’s hours of ‘what am I gonna wear?’ , ‘is this too slutty’, ‘will he like my tattoos?’, ‘should I go blind for the night and not wear my glasses’ and so on so forth… Then finally we meet and it’s all lovely and nerve racking and blushing glances and talking faster than a greyhound on a race track… Pretty great really.

But then… That’s when it starts to go tits up.

Now in this instance there was a couple of dates before what I am about to tell you, but quite a fair number of my online dates have cancelled for absolutely fuck all reason after countless messages and effort (seriously what is the actual point) and then disappeared off of the face of the planet – my guess, they’ve gone back to burn in hell, but that’s just a hunch…

My most recent flurry of excitement of endless text conversations and two dates ended all rather abruptly… Third date arranged and then on the day no communication whatsoever followed by an awkward text a few hours before, cancelling ‘I’m gonna have to bail on tonight, sorry to be a let down x’ and then… Nothing. Zilch. Squat. Fuck all. Like it never happened or he even existed.

And I’m wondering, whatever happened to manners and kindness?Yes it’s crap saying ‘actually you know what I’m married/not interested/have a girlfriend’ but what I wouldn’t give for a bloke of the online dating world to be a little bit honest. I’m a big girl, yes rejection is bollocks and nobody enjoys it but I’d much prefer it to the countless ‘what did I do?’ questions that run on repeat on my airwaves like ‘My Heart Will Go On’ did on the radio for the whole of 1997 – thanks for that one Celine.



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