Saturday, June 27, 2009
How many times a day do you think women around the world complain about the state of dating these days? I'm going to guess a shitload mainly because I'm too lazy after my afternoon of floating on a raft in the pool to provide an actual estimated number and because I'm among those that complain.
As I suddenly find myself back out in the scary depths of the dating world, (please kill me now) I find it harder and harder to stay positive each time I come back to this place. It's like being trapped in a techno-tastic dance club overflowing with sneery, popped collar doucherockets, pompous suits with airs of entitlement, tatooed, fat white trash, unambitious lumps of crap that reek of pot, asexual mama's boys with arthritic thumbs from their XBox-alism, ganstas, closeted homosexuals....Shall I go on?
See? Cynical as all hell, but I have many reasons for this attitude. There's one thing in particular about this trainwreck called dating that especially makes smoke come out of my ears and that, my friends, is text messaging. Since the beginning of time, men have grabbed their crotches and proclaimed that because they have these two giant friends hanging between their legs, they are brave, strong, macho and world conqueringly fearless - the epitome of "MAN." Except as men continue to evolve, their giant friends and all that they apparently symbolize are shrinking rapidly. They no longer use them and therefore no longer need them. At this rate, by next year, some men will be completely ball-less...or perhaps it's already happened.
Case in point, when did it become acceptable to get to know somebody through text messaging? Now, I'm not completely chastising the technology because I think it's perfectly fine in certain situations - in a crowded bar where a phone conversation is not possible, at work when you're not supposed to be yaking on the phone, when you're with your friends and you don't want to be rude and leave to talk on the phone, to send a simple message such as "on my way" as in, I'm on my way to your house to pick you up, so be ready - see a pattern here?
However, it's not OK for a guy to send a text message instead of calling a woman on the initial contact after meeting and it's not OK to just text back and forth for no other reason except the convenience of hiding behind "lol" and "idk" instead of actually using your vocal chords to communicate like a normal, considerate person. What the fuck? You're trying to get to know each other to see if you would like to date are you not? How do you do that when sarcastic humor, true meanings, genuine laughs, sighs and sincerity are completely missing or lost in translation? How lazy and socially inept can you be?
Take for instance the text message I received Thursday evening. It was from an unsaved number that I didn't recognize and all it said was:
Ummmm, huh? First of all, that's not my name. Second of all, how in the hell am I supposed to know who this is? And, no, I didn't text this back to the mystery number because after I thought about it for two seconds I realized who it was.
Last Friday we went to a free concert that Ida Maria - one of my new loves - was headlining. As I was busy rocking out, some guy came up to me and started talking to me about how he couldn't find his coke head date who had apparently ditched him. Now as charming as that approach was, I wasn't particularly interested in the guy, but he also wasn't terribly douche-rific either. When the concert was over, I said bye and started to walk away, he asked the inevitable question and I called out my number over my shoulder thinking I would never hear from him or see him again...until this delightful text message appeared on my phone.
It has to be him since he's the only rando I've given my number to and haven't heard from in the past nine months or so and the area codes match. I ignored it of course because first of all, is he retarded? And second of all if the man really wanted to talk to me he would, how you say, "grow a pair" and call me. What a wanker.
I realize chivalry is hard to find these days and most women have come to terms with this, but are you kidding me? Excuse me for wanting and expecting to hear a voice rather than read my way, tiny message by tiny message, into someone's life. I also realize and immensely appreciate the power of the written word - I'm a writer for fuck's sake - but there's a time and a place for it.
So, men, next time you're faced with the ever so difficult decision of "shall I call or text?" Stop, think really hard and just for good measure, reach down and grab your crotch just to make sure evolution hasn't gotten to you yet, take a deep breath and dial the phone number instead of being a giant, ball-less pansy ass. Believe me, no woman is EVER going to be disappointed that you called rather than texted.
I'd really love to get out of this aforementioned horrific, techno-tastic dance club full of douche as soon as possible and if men would just follow this simple, common sense rule of dating, it would be a decent start to the journey towards the exit.