Love in an Elevator – of Zeros and Ones

Long have I harbored, and still do, the idea that I will “meet the person on the way to meeting myself.” Meaning, that if I am engaged in doing things that ignite and enliven me, and I happen to meet a dude on the way, great – if I don’t meet a dude there, well, I went for me anyway. The other thing about that method is that you already know that you have something in common, wherever it is you are or what you’re doing – more than what you’ll know by internet dating, which the only thing you know for sure you have in common is that you both internet date. Or seek to.

So, that’s all well and good to “meet the person…yadda yadda yadda,” but, well, what if you haven’t, and it’s time to grease the wheels a little? Enter the internet. And, for me, most recently (as in Sunday) Tinder.

Ah yes, the new fangled, smart-phone app, where you swipe a photo left to reject and swipe right to approve. If you both “swipe right” on one another, you get the chance to chat. I like the idea of this better than my previous forees into internet dating, because there’s none of this “so and so winked at you” or “looked at your profile,” or even so-and-so messaged you and his photos are of him in a sports bar with five of his best bros swilling pints. In those situations, the most fun part is the polite decline. How to answer, if to answer the, “Hey hows it goin”?

Once, I politely declined a guy’s “advances,” and got a lovely diatribe on how all women were superficial bitches. That was fun. So, Tinder – you can only communicate if you’ve both agreed you pass the first gate.

Last night, I was supposed to have a coffee date with someone who passed the gate, but he got sick and texted to cancel and reschedule. About an hour later, I just took down my profile.

I’ve done it before. My second stint on OkCupid lasted 12 hours—from when I put the profile up at night, to when I woke up horrified in the morning, and took it down!

I was talking to a friend last night before my date was cancelled about my amalgam of feelings around the whole "internet dating thing": That I felt glad to get out there; that I felt loser-ish to “have to” date that way; that I was excited for the date, but also trepidatious about meeting a stranger who all I know is from two photos and a witty sentence.

And then the date was cancelled, and I was relieved.

It’s not to say that I won’t restart again, but I usually do internet dating only so long as I can stomach the concept. And it’s hard (for me) to quiet the nausea long enough to “get out there.” That’s okay. As Alanis Morissette says in her song “21 Things I Want In A Lover” (which may as well be my WSM Craigslist ad), I’m in no rush, ‘cause I like being solo…In the meantime I’ll live like there’s no tomorrow.

And though I agree with the second part, and will continue to go out to meet myself and potentially meet you too, my desire for dinner for two may bring me back to 140-character witticisms and culling my most swipe-rightable photos.