Online dating. You see commercials on television for it all of the time. The commercials make it look ultra appealing and super easy (like commercials often do with everything). Match.com boasts that it’s #1 in online dating marriages. eHarmony claims that it has this magical formula/method that will match you with the perfect person. You’ll meet your soul mate, and life will be happy, and you’ll skip off down the yellow brick road to a life full of love, contentment and rainbows.
Okay, the online dating companies don’t claim the last half of (that previous) statement in their commercials. Yes, I’m extremely cold—and perhaps even cynical. That doesn’t even matter, and that’s not what we’re here to talk about. However, I have to mention these feelings because it relates to the rest of my story.
So, as some of you may or may not know, I decided (2 months after the break-up) that I would try online dating. I wasn’t ready for it, and probably had no business doing it, but put myself out there because it seemed like a good idea at the time. So, I signed up for both match.com and eHarmony. About 2 months into each, I’d had 2 dates—both of which were interesting to say the least. The first date, included a guy who literally discussed his love of popcorn for 30 minutes. The second date, I already discussed here, after it happened. I had a third date, which my dear friend likes to make fun of me for all of the time. It turns out date number 3 had the entire Clint Eastwood movie collection and took pictures of trains for fun. I don’t consider myself a good person for making fun of those things, and hey, he had a hobby—but just wasn’t for me. Well, needless to say, about 4 months in to eHarmony, I cut that cord. Last month, I took myself off of match.com.
Now, I am going to throw this out there. To me, online dating is somewhat worse than high school. It’s a big popularity contest. On the site, they ask you to share pictures, so that your suitors can see what you look like. You get your typical ‘selfies’ shared, along with some other interesting photos. However, it is human nature to look at the person’s pictures before you even read their profile. It’s shallow, but we all do it. Myself included. There’s a downside to all of this. You can see who has looked at your profile. It’s disheartening sometimes, as you know that there’s a reason why they chose to move on. Especially if your ‘About Me’ section isn’t too fully developed. It would be naïve to think that they moved on because they didn’t really like what you had to say. Here is the point where you can tell me that ‘it’s all in my head’ and I have ‘no self confidence’. Yet, this is my theory—and I am sticking to it. Needless to say, I became sort of disenchanted by the whole thing, and decided that I didn’t really want to, or care to participate in online dating for now. So I ended things. I broke up with match.com.
Okay, onto the story.
Back in December, I seemed to get a great deal of hits on my site. Not sure if it was that standard ‘have to have someone to bring home to mom and dad around the holidays’ or if I was really smokin’ at that time (hahahahaha). Either way, I talked to a few people, all of which seemed decent. However, none of the discussions really went anywhere. There was this one military guy that seemed really nice, but after awhile he just stopped talking to me. That was interesting. Anyway, around Christmas, I got this message from a guy—and we started messaging back and forth.
At this time, I was probably at my lowest point. I didn’t think with my brain, I thought with my heart. Everything was ruled by emotion—and nothing by logic. I was also unrealistically and irrationally desperate. Please don’t judge me.
So—after exchanging like 2-3 match.com messages, he asked for my phone number so that we could text. Thinking it might be easier. From what I remember we talked for a few days. He must not have been too impressive, because I honestly don’t remember what we talked about. I don’t remember anything about him, really. I remember he asked to see pictures (no, not dirty ones, get your mind out of the gutter). So I sent him some pictures from Facebook or something. I feel like I remember he was somewhat of a jerk—but who knows. Either way, I must not have been too sorry when we stopped talking.
Last week, I am at work, and I get a text from a number that I don’t have stored in my phone, and I don’t recognize. We will henceforth refer to unknown texter (soon to be creepy person) as CG for ‘Creepy Guy’.
CG: Hey how is your day going?
Me: Who is this?
CG: Alex, this is (will not reference name so I will call him CG)
So at this point, I am trying to jog my memory as to who this person is. If this were an in-person conversation, it would be one of those moments where you awkwardly pretend to remember the person that remembers you.
Me: Ohhh, hey. How’s it going?
To shorten things up here, the conversation ensues. But then, things start to get weird.
I am 26 years old, therefore an adult. Please remember this as you read.
So he asks me if I have a boyfriend. No. He asks me if I am seeing anyone/dating. No.
Last Friday, he asks me if I want to get together. No, he doesn’t ask if I want to grab dinner, or go have a drink, or venture off to Starbucks. Nope. He asks me if I want to come over.
I tell him that I am super busy all weekend, and that I already have plans with friends all weekend. He tells me to ditch them. I tell him in a nice way to fuck off.
So I go about my Friday, and enjoy my time with friends.
Saturday comes, he texts me late in the afternoon, asking what I am up to. I tell him I am going to my sister’s for her birthday, and to the gym and to a family reunion. Later that night he texts me asking how the party is going. I don’t answer.
Sunday comes, he texts me asking how my day is going. I don’t answer.
Monday comes, he says good morning, I say “hey”.
I decided that I would see if perhaps he’d be like a normal human being. Maybe tell me something about himself.
Nope, I tell him that my day is going well, and then he asks again ‘When are you coming over?’
So, I tell him the following:
“I don’t know you, if we were to meet, I would want to meet in a public place.”
The conversation sort of ends there.
So Tuesday, and Wednesday morning—he texts me. I don’t really say much, or anything to really keep the conversation going.
He does ask me if I have plans on Wednesday night. I say:
‘Yep, going to the gym—and then watching American Horror Story with my sisters.” He asks me when we’re getting together. I say “Don’t know.” The conversation ends there.
Yesterday he texted me in the morning, like clockwork:
CG: Good Morning!
I don’t say much of anything, really. Other than, yep—on my way to work. He asks again: ‘When are you coming over.’ This is where I sort of lose my shit:
Me: Listen. I don’t know you, I don’t know anything about you. Don’t even remember what you look like. I don’t know where you’re from, if you work, if you like sports, if you have hobbies. Haven’t you ever seen Cold Case? Where the girl(s) go to meet up with a guy that they met online…and they never come home. I don’t know you. If we were to meet up—it would be in a public place where I want it to be.’
CG: It’s no big deal, I won’t bite. You will find out all of those things when you come over, sound good? J
I stop answering. It’s gotten to the point now, where I’ve let it go too far. Deep down inside, I didn’t want to talk to this person. But thought, ‘Hey---maybe he’s just like trying to get to know me.’
I know what you’re all thinking ‘Dear God, how much did you let him get to know you?’ Well, he doesn’t know much about me at all. Other than I have a dog, I go to the gym and I am always busy. I knew things were off when he was asking me to come over. We all know why. Let’s be adults. I’ll tell you straight up, I am not that kind of person.
Now that we’ve settled that, let’s get on with my story.
So I didn’t answer him after the conversation above. Yesterday evening when I am on my way to the gym he texts me:
CG: Hey Alex
I don’t answer.
After the Bears game at about 10:15pm last night:
CG: Hey there miss quiet----
I don’t answer.
Good Morning, Beautiful
I don’t answer. Firstly, get the point dude. You’re a creeper. Secondly, don’t call me beautiful. I don’t know you, I don’t want to know you, and I don’t want to end up in your crawlspace or on your mantle--so leave me alone.
Well, it’s 2:25pm, and there have been no texts. I don’t ever plan on speaking to this person again. I don’t know why I carried a conversation in the first place. Call me stupid, tell me I should know better—but honestly, I didn’t start to get really creeped out until yesterday. Although, I should have known something was off when he didn’t ever offer information up about himself.
So let this be a lesson to those of you considering online dating. Although I am fairly certain that 85% of my readers are either married or dating. Creepers are out there, and the Ted Bundy’s of the world do exist. Not that this guy is Ted Bundy, but he sure was acting like it.
So, in conclusion----
This morning, when I was showering, I was replaying the creepiness in my head. I then had an epiphany, like most do (when they’re washing their hair): I don’t want a relationship. I’ve spent all this time worrying about being alone, and asking myself what I will do if I don’t find anyone. It’s been top of mind for a year now. One year. Honestly, I could give a shit less right now. I am so busy living life, and trying to have fun—that I don’t have the time to worry about it. I think, needless to say, I am finally becoming okay with me. Well, I am certainly in the process of becoming okay with me. Me, myself and I---we have a long road ahead of us. I am so immersed in working out, and being a good friend, daughter, employee and sister—that I don’t have the time to worry about being alone. Honestly, I don’t want to make the time to worry about being alone.
I’ll admit, there’s a wall up right now, and it’s somewhat reminiscent of the Great Wall of China, or the locks in Sault Ste. Marie, Michigan. No one’s getting through this barrier until I open the gates. It’s going to be that way for awhile, and people are just going to have to deal with it.
Until then, I’ll continue on this path. Minus the creepers.