In the beginning…

Day One, and I already have over 99 views of my profile.  This seems a lot, so I am excited to see who has looked at my profile pic and decide to delve further.  Perhaps I am more attractive than I thought…or perhaps most people (women) get over 99 views in a day.  Who knows?  I’ve even got a couple of messages sent and some winks! The feel good factor is pouring through me now – who needs wine when all you need is a dating website! I should have done this years ago!!

I decide to start reading the messages first, but not before I’ve poured myself a generous glass of vino. Just to help with the nerves and boost my conversational skills. The first message is from a guy who lives nearby.  He is tanned and good looking but a bit short for me.  He says he’s 5ft10ins, which is perfectly acceptable in the height department, except for those women unfortunate enough to be taller than the average man, like myself.  At just shy of 6ft, I tower above the world around me, and this time around, I’d really like to meet a man who can make me feel more feminine.  There’s nothing worse than walking around with people that you are literally head and shoulders above.  It makes you feel like a freak of nature, a literal giant among men, which is not sexy or alluring to anyone.  The term ‘Amazon’ is often used to describe me, people seem to think this is a compliment, but it certainly doesn’t feel like it. I’d love to be little.  In my opinion, the smaller someone is, the more feminine they appear, and I rarely feel feminine.  Anyway, I decide to respond to the uninspiring, ‘Hi, how are you?’ he has sent me.  I ask what he does for work, as I’d ideally like someone with a decent job.  By decent, I mean a job that earns more than the minimum wage, has potential to develop into a glorious career or provides some sort of humanitarian aid to those in need.  Also, someone who can hold a conversation would be good.  I have a list of minimum requirements actually, but I digress. Number 1 responds instantly with his answer:

‘I work on the trains. I’m a train driver. Choo-choo!’.

Wait. Did he just say that? Choo – choo? Do grown men say that to women nowadays?  Is this a reflection of the calibre available online? Should I abort this mission now? I cannot believe I’ve just signed up to ninety quid of this! I need more wine. 

To be honest, my dating experience thus far has been neither extensive nor frankly, overly enjoyable, so for all I know this could be standard fare.  As a teenager, I was always the one leftover – the third wheel as it were. Tall and gangly, I was anything but elegant, and more likely to be bullied by the cool kids than hang out with them.  I always struggled to understand how to make friends so spent most of my time in school trying to avoid being noticed by anyone.  Even amongst the small group of friends I eventually made, I somehow managed to be the only one without a boyfriend.  That’s not to say that I didn’t attract some interest from time to time though.  On a night out, I could often be found snogging some guy in the corner of the room, but they never wanted to see me again.  I mistakenly believed that guys would be interested in me if I gave them what they wanted, but it turns out this is not the case.  Less is more, and all of that. So after a string of non-starters, I found myself heading into adulthood never having had a boyfriend despite a number of sexual encounters.  As an adult, not much has changed.  I still don’t have a scoobies about men or how to attract them. My ex-husband was the first man that I found attractive that actually wanted to date me. 

Although I wasn’t really into him, I took his offer gratefully, wondering what on earth I had done differently to actually hold onto him – a decision I would come to regret with time.  But I digress; back to the case in hand for this evening.  

I let the shock pass, and debate how best to respond to Mr Choo-Choo.  I feel I should say something, after all, he has replied to my question.  Perhaps he’s one of the better ones.  I don’t want to pass up on an opportunity just because of one random line.  I opt to give him another chance just to be sure.  After another two messages in which I discover that he works on the local route that runs past my house, he sends the following:

‘So we could keep messaging like this all night or we could meet up and see how things go instead.’

Hmmmm, we have been talking for ten minutes and a total of six messages.  I could count the number of words we have exchanged, and the guy wants to meet up? Already? Now, dear reader, I have learned the hardest way possible that men like a woman who plays hard to get, and I’m not into meeting up with total strangers, or at least not tonight anyway –I’d need a babysitter for starters. So I plump for the following response:

‘Thanks, but I’d rather get to know you like this for a week or two first if that’s ok?’

I wait for his reply.  Minutes turn into hours and I begin to wonder what has happened.  Perhaps that was not the correct response.   Did he get a better offer? He could at least reply to me.  A bit of common courtesy goes a long way.  It wouldn’t take much.  But the reply never comes. 

I didn’t know it at the time, but this was my first ghosting[1] experience.  It turns out this is very common.  Especially for me.  In fact, over time, I develop the uncanny ability (albeit unwittingly) of sifting through the dregs of the male species on offer at remarkable speed.

[1] If you’re anything like me, you will find yourself endlessly Googling an array of new words and acronyms when you delve into the world of online dating.  To help you out, I will share with you my discoveries along the way. Ghosting = stopping contact with someone without giving them a reason – essentially disappearing, ie: the opposite of haunting someone, ironically.