I came home from a movie and it was before my bedtime. I have the house to myself and I feel no great urge to watch television. I powered up my internet machine and proceeded to entrap myself in the worldwide web. When I turned on the computer, I wanted to play online poker, but once the computer was on, I wanted to play Monopoly online. Alas, my online Monopoly account isn’t working. I didn’t want to check e-mail and I felt poker would be a waste of time. Facebook is tiresome and its content, albeit from my friends, is unrewarding. I decided I would rather read a few blogs on WordPress and blolirt (blog-flirt).
I travelled down the tunnel of topics. I chose dating, because I was curious to see how frustratingly pointless other people find the activity. Perhaps I would find some nuggets of truth? A hidden suggestion I had heretofore never considered?
My mind wandered separately from my eyes as I clicked from blog to blog. I began to think of a junkyard. Stacks and stacks of crushed cars. Cars that were once cared for and loved by their owners. Cars which were the object of optimism and aspiration. “Some day, if I work hard enough and save, I will have this car,” the dough-eyed youngster pined.
But then the car rolled off the lot and depreciation began. Time and use caused one component after another to fail. Or else, some critical user error caused the car to become destroyed beyond repair in an automobile accident. Perhaps the initial owner loved the car, but had to sell and subsequent owners became less and less kind, until ultimately a thoughtless youngster beat it into the ground. Or perhaps the car was sold to a rental agency, becoming a whore to any person with a credit card and a driver’s license.
My point is, a question began to form in my mind: to what extent has online dating become a stroll through the junkyard? Especially for a man my age. Nothing is pure or innocent anymore. Everything has been discovered. There is no frontier, no manifest destiny. There are only broken families and broken hearts that despair at the thought of being alone. They wish that help was on the way.
So if I’m strolling through the junkyard, what am I really looking for? Parts for other cars? Or am I fascinated by the great rusting hulks, contemplating what could have been? Or do I observe the damage and imagine what might have happened?
Believe it or not, there are actually some worthwhile things in the junkyard. There are cars, whose body is horribly mangled, yet the engine is in perfect working order. There are other cars where the axel snapped and the tires rolled away, but the body is pristine and flawless. All it really needs is some tires, right?
I think it really is a matter of attitude. I need to separate this defeatist mentality that online dating is like a job interview for romance. I think I wanted to come on to WordPress because I wanted to get away from the Instagram pictures and the slutty, duckfaced poses and read some real words; listen to some real thoughts. Tonight, I have not been disappointed.
I would rather read some honest things that someone has written than waste my hours sending pointless, “Hey” and “How are you doing?” messages. Even worse, committing the fallacious sin of sending a structured, meaningful message to an online picture of a supposed human being using the Hi-Observation/Compliment-Personal Connective Sentence-Question format, which is my usual online messaging habit.
The only fish in the sea are the robots beckoning me to their online webcams so they can infect my computer with viruses. Why not just skip the physical contact and contract an internet STD instead?
Oh man, I’ve travelled to a dark place. I had better leave this junkyard and return to the dealership showroom floor.