I got back on online dating. Kind of.
It feels weird now. It really does. I was so comfortable with it back when I was looking to meet someone and now that I’m happily entangled it seems the last thing I’d be interested in. I guess it’s worth clearing up how I got back there, because at the moment it probably sounds like a guy who wants to have his cake and just start amassing cakes. That’s not it, I’m no Lex Luthor. Sidebar: that was a pretty problematic metaphor. I don’t see women as some type of good to be consumed (there’s a low hanging cunnilingus joke I refuse to make here. I just can’t go down to that level. Okay, we both knew I wouldn’t be able to help myself) and even if females as cake was an apt metaphor, I don’t have any issues with polyamory. On that note (and more relevant to the subject), while I’m at the stage where I’m considering trying polyamory I don’t quite think I’m emotionally ready for that kind of intimacy with multiple people. Not that I have much say in the matter. My general dating strategy is to stand looking awkward until someone takes pity on me and grabs my hand. It’s been working out thus far. So the online dating thing is window shopping at best. If it is, it’s the laziest window shopping possible.
I went back to the site to find a quote for that lengthy diatribe about my ex and ended up looking around while I was there. Now, like Twitter I find myself aimlessly surfing without an agenda. I go on, check my matches, see how little they’ve changed and log off. It’s the most dispassionate way to view other people. Due to my general disinterest it’s not dissimilar from looking in a catalogue and matching up compatible personalities like creating outfits. Much like my inability to dress myself, my inability to find complimentary aspects is legendary. I look up profiles and think how emotionally draining it’d be to message any of these lovely gals. I’ve gone back and looked through my past messages. It’s a humbling experience. If you’re a beta male who wants to feel like a total fedora tipping neckbeard, just look back through your online dating message history. A metric fuckton of cringe is a heavy weight to bear. They weren’t all terrible, but the further I go back, the worse it gets. At least that’s a sign of personal growth. If I was Benjamin Button-ing my maturity that’d be a curious case indeed.
The curious case that’s cropped up, however, is the number of friends or friends of friends popping up in my high percentage matches. I’ll find people I’ve met at parties or actual friends I interact with pseudo regularly in my top 10% of matches. Someone will post on Facebook and their friend’s profile picture will look familiar. I’ll hop on the site and they’ll be a 99% match. That wasn’t a hypothetical scenario. It’s doing no disservice to my notion that Toronto’s the biggest small town in the world, nor my hypothesis that good people beget more good people. If you find someone choice, they tend to know other choice individuals. It’s why I end up seeing people at parties who I recognise from unconnected situations around the city. It’s why buses might as well be my local pub, because a statistically disproportionate amount of time somebody knows my name. When this comes to online dating, it makes complete sense. Remember back when we talked with our mouths and you’d meet people at social events? You’d find a friend of a friend and hit it off? Well since social interaction has shifted online in a significant way, the “mutual friends” tab is often a decent indicator of your compatibility with a certain someone. If the people you have in common are excellent humans, chances are your personalities might just interlink like Voltron, Megazord or IKEA clip seal containers.
So basically what I’m trying to say is, dating for me is finding someone who’ll indulge my unabashed love of IKEA.