Like being in the restroom at a sporting event

So about two months ago I decided my avenues for finding a decent, normal single guy who was interested in dating me were gone, and it was time I gave online dating another try. You all should know this by now, and if you don’t just go back a couple entries, and you’ll see what I mean. Today I decided it was high time for an update. I’m hopefully going to do more of these, but seeing as how sometimes scheduling time to wash my hair can become a process, I’m not gonna promise anything.

Usually when I say that, I magically do whatever it is I’m not promising. Still not promising.

So, let’s start at the beginning — the day after Valentine’s Day, when I spent a couple hours in Starbucks with my friend Bee. I put together what I thought was a nice profile, published it, spent the money on a year’s worth of help from a company who promised results, and waited.

OK, I didn’t just wait. I sent a couple messages to guys I found interesting, answered a couple messages from guys I didn’t find interesting, and realized that, although the pool of potential soulmates has gotten larger, it has not gotten any easier to find someone I like. I figured that with a big enough pool of men, I might find someone I’m attracted to, who is funny and smart and good looking and preferably Latin and gets my sense of humor and makes me see fireworks and rainbows when I read his profile.

Most of them, however, make me go, “Eh, he’s ok. Maybe I’ll send him a message.” I found enough of them, and I sent the messages and, like, one of them got back to me. He ended up not being interested anyway. Most of them could not be bothered to even look at my profile.

I’ve gotten a few who sent me messages, and whether they seemed to be my type or not, I answered their messages. I figure, they have at least one thing going for them — they have really good taste in women.

One of the guys who initiated the conversation, J from Delaware, was kind of a creepy. And yes, he was the first one to ask for my number. When I say he was creepy, I’m not using it as a cop-out because I’m really picky or not truly ready for a serious relationship. I mean he was creepy. He asked me if I was a good girl and went to church on Sunday. Um, did he think he was being cute and sweet? Because he wasn’t. He was being creepy.

Then he asked me if I would do something “crazy” like text him. If it’s crazy for him to text me, I don’t think I want him to have my number. The creepster possibilities are endless, and I’d rather not discover what they might be. There was no way I wanted him to have my personal info, and certainly no way I’d be trekking down towards Delaware to meet him, so I decided to end it with J from Delaware.

I am currently talking with a couple other guys — there’s P from the Bronx, who wins points for proximity, and K from Lancaster, who wins points for not being super creepy, and being able to express himself in writing. Loses points for the whole Lancaster thing (sorry, but it’s really far, and I have zero desire to visit there anyway) and a couple other things I may or may not get into in the future.

K and (possibly) P are for another day. See what I did there? I got myself some motivation to write again soon!

After my conversation with K the other night, I told a friend that online dating, and dating in general, is starting to feel like the restroom at a sporting event — the guys are either taken or they’re full of crap.

But I’m in it for the long haul. Eventually a stall frees up, right? I’m just hoping it’s not too long.

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