07 January 2011

I Hate Everyone

I hate online dating.  Actually, I struggle with a love-hate relationship: I’d love to be dating someone but hate leaving the house. I love that it’s easy but hate taking it seriously.

After ruling out school and bars and dog parks as places to meet people I’m quick to throw up my hands and say: “what other options do I have?” So I go online and hate myself for it.

I am a sucker for the online propaganda. Those damned commercials that make it look as if the only way to meet someone you’re compatible with is to do it online. Here, all the guesswork is supposedly done for you. It also doesn’t help if you’re gay cause then you’ve got people telling you your options are limited because there are fewer of us out there.

I’ve tried and tried but can’t take it seriously.  When I fill out a profile, I end up writing things like: “too sensitive” and “painfully average” and “tragically unhip.” I write sarcastically trying to “set myself apart” when, “setting oneself apart by writing sarcastically” is really just a tactic for meeting like-minded singles ultimately exposing myself as no different from anyone else. Further, by selling myself short, I don’t put myself out there thus worrying little about someone asking me out and having to do something scary, like go on a date.

The only time I met up with someone from the internet was at the Dore Alley Fair in the City. He was a little older, trying to get into the Bear thing and clearly utterly humorless. We met, said hello, then mentally counted down from five and made excuses to go in different directions. Later, standing in line for the port-a-potty, I looked to my right and saw him making out viciously with some stranger. “Slut” I thought to myself.

Everywhere I looked that day attractive men dressed in leather were whipping each other. And here I was, wearing jeans and a black jacket in the summer.  I felt out of place and discouraged. Why did it seem that every gay was having such an easy time of it? Am I too picky? Too shy? Too sensitive? Too tragically unhip? Yes I am. But I don’t consider these bad traits, that day wasn’t my day.

My problem is my unwillingness to compromise; I want to be myself but have a hard time putting that self out there.

A friend once told me he checked out a book of witchcraft, chanted a love spell in his kitchen, and then later got two dates. Should I become a witch in order to get dates? Actually that ‘s something I wouldn’t consider a compromise.

Point of the conversation: Compromise is the language of the devil.

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