I was feeling too cocky – thinking I had defied the odds by getting responses to my proactive dating messages. I thought I was finally getting somewhere. But getting a response to your virtual pick-up line is only the first of many hurdles in this online dating sports event.
Let’s review my recent experiences while enjoying some Independence Day appropriate herby picnic potato salad.
One recent afternoon, I dropped my line into the Plenty of Fish pond when I noticed an attractive man had viewed me. His profile appealed and he said he was looking for a relationship. I pondered my opening line to him. I noticed that he had a garden so I decided to incorporate that into my message. “Do you grow basil in your garden?” I asked, “I need a supplier for my pesto.”
A short time later, Gary wrote back. “Basil is awesome,” he replied. “We could discuss this over a drink.”
Pay dirt, I thought.
“That’s possible,” I replied.
“Will you be in DC on Tuesday?” he asked.
“I will be in DC,” I responded, “attending a writing workshop in upper N.W. It ends at 6:15.”
“Is it near 12th & H Streets?” Gary asked.
This question immediately put me on guard. I recently had lunch with a man who drove from West Virginia for our first meeting and Gary appeared to be balking at a distance of under 5 miles.
“No,” I wrote, “I’ll be around upper Connecticut Avenue.” I then suggested a couple of venues in the vicinity of my class and asked if either one of these worked for him.
But Gary never replied. I’m not sure if this counts as ghosting since we had only exchanged a few messages. I’ll refer to it as fizzling. And it’s certainly rude.
Imagine having an in-person conversation with a guy and he walks away mid sentence. It feels almost as bad when this happens online.
Could Gary’s “fizzling” be related to the fact that I am 10 years older than him?
The problem with fizzling or ghosting is that you never know what happened or even if the runaway person’s reaction has anything to do with you.
It was time to move on to other possible targets of my affection. Next, I sent a message to Robert on Tastebuds, a mixed-use (dating, friends, concert buddies) site. We liked some of the same music and he was attractive, tall, and single. His profile contained little information so it was my job to ferret it out. Oh, and he was Bahamian, a “fact,” if true, that would play a key role in the end of our non-relationship.
I emailed Robert and asked about his favorite local music venues. We then corresponded about our jobs (in my case, retirement), marital status, and our children. I learned Robert was single and had a married son who had recently moved out of his house/apartment.
Here’s his verbatim message:
I have a son but his Married and he just moved out of the house that makes me very lonely .. Please can I have you mobile number ? I will be honored
Yes, I know Robert’s English and grammar are questionable but I decided to play along in hopes that (1) he was intelligent but that English was his second language and (2) the keyboard was not his friend.
Give me some slack. I’m in a dating dry spell and willing to entertain false hope.
Still I was suspicious of a declaration of loneliness and his career also had me wondering:
Am into art works importations and sales and I also do artworks interior decorations for homes and offices
I decided to give Robert my Google voice number so we could text. When he sent his number, I searched it and found it to be a Voice over Internet Protocol Washington state number. Strike 3 – almost out.
Once we started texting, it didn’t take long for my suspicions to be confirmed. Ultimately, he did not want to speak on the phone due to his thick accent. Classic catfishing behavior.
The only thing I’ll share from my second catfishing encounter of the week was a tip I learned to help you search photos of matches on Google image search. If you crop the image closely to cut most of the background, Google is more likely to find the photo’s match. This helped me identify a Coffee Meets Bagel match from Virginia who in realty (no pun intended) was a realtor in Texas. The real guy is single and cute so maybe I should message him via Facebook and tell him someone stole his photo for nefarious dating purposes.
Lessons from a Millennial
I was sharing my frustrating non-dating week with my daughter. A tall, natural beauty in her late 20s, my “baby” hasn’t gone more than few months without a boyfriend since age 15. And this is without Facebook, which she refuses to join.
“I’d never do online dating,” she declared.
Daughter has met men in Starbucks, at various jobs, volunteer experiences, and through friends.
She instinctively knows how to send the right signals to a man she’s interested in.
“I just position myself,” she explained.
“Would you go up to a stranger and start talking?” I ask.
“Yes,” she said. “Men are afraid of rejection too. If I see an attractive man at a bar, I sit next to him. I might wait for him to talk to me. Depends on how I feel. Or I might start talking.”
She’s a natural. I have watched her masterfully look at an attractive man, look away, and return her gaze in the classic flirt maneuver.
It’s surreal when you’re in your 60s to get dating advice from your daughter. But it’s also fun and usually helpful. My plan is to channel my millennial daughter’s attitude and energy the next time I’m in a situation where I might meet men in real life.
Until next week, happy dating or not dating.