I’ve been away this week but did not want to let down those of you who actually look forward to my weekly offering; so I’ve done a Phil & Kirsty and “revisited” an old piece. At my age old pieces are the only things left to revisit.
Almost two years ago I wrote The Dating Game a tongue in cheek look at the multi-million dollar on-line dating industry with the added benefit of studious research.
As I am now completing my PhD here I thought it important to update all you cosy couples out there to the dangers us singles contend with; a land of milk and honey this is not.
Progress?
Certain things remain as big a mystery to man as when Adam first attempted to woo Eve with an apple; so it is that the dating game continues to evolve with new approaches led now by technology.
Whilst there are those that will vigorously challenge this – mainly tattooed, skinhead females in cargo pants – the burden of the chase remains with the man.
Most just do it with an iphone now instead of an apple…pardon the pun.
Days Of Innocence
Take your mind back to school days and the first time you got that dry mouthed, banging heart sensation when you set eyes on the object of your teenage desires.
One look at her and it was an instant wipe out of anything other than her presence dressed in polyester sweater and pleated crimplene skirt as she strutted along the corridor oblivious to your bog-eyed stare.
Sadly, once in her presence, the automatic disengaging of your brain cancelled anything remotely interesting, attractive or cool to say, leaving you to contemplate a lifetime as a mute nerd with an uncontrollable drooling mouth.
As boys we often resorted to trying to attract our new “mate” in other ways than words, apples or smiley faces for that matter. In doing so went went back centuries and became Stone Age Man again.
Our methods generally ended up inflicting pain and creating unintended and unwanted feelings of loathing from the sweetheart in question.
A rubber thrown across the classroom, with the intention of skimming her head to demonstrate our charm, would inevitably hit her flush between the eyes, almost blinding her in an instant.
Courage was in short supply in those early teenage years; even on good days of strong resolve, you could guarantee a big yellow spot to emerge right on your nose, resisting the efforts of a whole tube of Clearasil, dissolving the built up store of good intentions.
I once tried my dad’s haemorrhoid cream in desperation but it stank for days so it was back to the worn copy of Playboy.
How Not To Ask For A Date
As evidence of total ineptitude my initial reaction to being told that a certain girl fancied me – my mate’s sister – was to wonder what was wrong with her? Had she copped one in the eye from a stray rubber?
She had clearly missed me leering at her for the last six months, mouth drooling in Geography, wondering how to communicate whilst resisting the temptation to throw my atlas at her.
Now, after several months of delaying the inevitable “will you have babies with me” I decided I needed to show courage. It was then that I realised I would have a lifetime affliction for saying completely the wrong thing in moments of duress.
With her right arm in pot post a fall, I proposed our first date could be a game of tennis. She wrote me off in an instant as a complete moron as did her brother and I lost a best mate and prospective date in a flash.
It was my first experience of two for one.
Blind Date With Big Bertha from Bramley
After several years in the wilderness – a place where alcohol replaced courage and morality although the end result rarely changed – I discovered the horrors of the blind date.
Even though I am a techno-phobe, I can see that the internet has at least one redeeming feature in banishing the concept of the blind date. Every picture tells a story, don’t it?
My worst experience was the result of one of the girls at work convincing me, after weeks of cajoling, to meet her friend who was “ideal…the perfect woman for you”.
How I believed this colleague, given that I was almost thirty and showed no signs of understanding the barest notion of commitment other than to mastering the off-drive, should have been a warning sign to both of us.
I made three fundamental mistakes: firstly, actually agreeing to this: secondly, telling two friends where I would be: finally, not fleeing like a car thief as she unloaded herself from a groaning Fiat Panda giving new meaning to “a few extra pounds”.
As she waddled across the car park and the car wearily righted itself, the suspension expelling air like a damp fart, a last minute temptation to hide behind the dashboard was lost in sheer panic.
I sat frozen in my seat knowing that this would be the worst couple of hours of my short life to date.
It was.
The Brave New World
These days we have internet dating. According to industry blurb around one on four relationships now start on-line and, of some 13m singles in the UK, broadly three-quarters are on-line.
The chances of meeting anybody half-decent in a pub – if you can find one open – are as remote as staying sober long enough to say something half-interesting. In contrast, internet dating seems to be one of the few sectors of the economy that has proven to be recession proof.
Most of the long established taboos have vanished but anybody starting out to explore internet dating can easily be overwhelmed by the sheer choice out there.
You can bag a Granny, lust after a Latvian or even be matched by a series of psychometric tests like a job application. In so doing you end up with someone as troubled as you are; logical?
Many brands are owned by the dominant big players in a market place where there has been rapid consolidation in recent years.
In a sense it’s not too far removed from stumbling from pub to pub all those years ago, only to find the same hunted prey. Without the comfort of alcohol though this can be a brutal process.
Picture after picture pops up for an instant dismissal if she does not remotely look like a supermodel, conveniently forgetting you don’t actually know any nor have ever come close to dating one and can only dream of looking like George Clooney.
If you get as far as reading her profile things can come to a rapid end as she explains how she so wants to share a bungee jump with her “soul mate” and spend a year backpacking, living on insects to “connect with herself”. Delete!
The fact is that most of the people on dating sites are lying their arses off and you quickly learn how to decipher certain elements of phraseology; for instance.
A few extra pounds – Big Bertha lives and is up for a second date having ditched the Panda for an Humvee.
Young looking – many decades ago when the photo in question was taken.
Busy lifestyle – six kids under ten.
Wants to travel the world – preferably from Russia and on your credit card.
Not a bunny boiler – hide the cat.
Staying Alive
If you do actually stray from the comfort of the screen to a real date, here are a few tips from a seasoned campaigner.
1 – schedule during daylight hours so you see the tuck behind the ears.
2 – as the coffee goes cold, remember you forgot your Gran’s birthday; even if she’s been dead twenty years.
3 – order cake to boost sugar levels aiding will to live as she tells you what’s wrong with men.
4 – try not to stare at her moustache.
Easy as it is to scorn the youth of today for being obsessed with technology, in dating land we are just as reliant on IT even though we have only just come to terms with the disappearance of Betamax.
Give me the old days anytime.
And Finally!
The Ryder Cup once again showed how sport should be played whatever the prize at stake or the pressure of the contest. Of course this is a major television event too now.
Speaking on Sky, Jack Nicklaus, a man who has done it all in golf made a wonderful comment.
“The older we get, the better we used to be” he said.
A master not only on the course.
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