Just Say No

After a summer of first dates and a steady fling, I’ve been taking some time off from dating. I’m feeling happily solitary at the moment, as you might have surmised from my last post. All I want to do is work out, hike, read, and do creative writing projects. But I still have my dating profile up and look at profiles for a few minutes almost every day. It’s an addiction. Many of the guys I see seem great, but when it comes to the idea of spending my time going to meet someone and making chitchat for an hour or two, I’m simply not interested. And maybe I’m too picky, but men’s profiles make it so easy to reject them. Aside from my usual reasons (has kids, is ex-military, doesn’t seem to have an active lifestyle, doesn’t seem to have any intellectual interests, didn’t write anything in his profile, wearing sunglasses and/or a hat in all his photos, simply not attractive), here are some of the many snap judgment reasons I have for swiping left.

  • He’s looking to meet “open-minded people.” This sounds like a good thing, but it could really mean anything. I always assume it means he’s married and looking for some ass on the side.
  • He went to Sarah Lawrence College or Vassar. What kind of guy goes to a female dominated school? A pansy or a player.
  • His name sounds biblical. I’m looking at you, Omiah and Jedediah. The strong religious connotation freaks me out. If you’re not actually religious, find a nickname.
  • He wrote his name in Japanese even though he looked like your average Caucasian. I think it’s super cool if you’re fluent in Japanese. But let’s talk about that on our first date. Don’t write your name on the app in kanji when you’re a white guy dating in Colorado.
  • He says that you must be OK with his guns. I am OK with guns. I own a handgun. But if you use many of your precious few 300 characters to tell potential dates about it, then gun ownership is way too much a part of your identity.
  • He reminds me too much of an ex. In looks, in job, in self-description, in name, whatever. I just don’t want to go there.
  • He has a career I can’t respect. And I’m not talking blue collar here, because I don’t have a problem with that. I’m talking owns a cosmetic procedures spa. What 37 year old man makes his living by profiting off the insecurities of women?
  • His photos are all selfies in his car. All of them.
  • He lists his ski pass. Yeah, if you pick your dates based on which mountains they’ll be hitting this winter, we have nothing in common.
  • He has a typo in his self-description. I’m totally OK with typos in texts and casual emails. I make them too and am not embarrassed. But your profile is your first impression. Take a few seconds to edit it. And ask a friend to read it over. Then check it again a few days later.
  • He’s looking for a “slender” woman. We all have physical preferences in our mates. But keep them to yourself. You don’t like what you see? Swipe left.
  • He’s jacked. Guys that look like a balloon about to pop are gross. But I don’t share this opinion in my self-description. I just swipe left.
  • He’s looking for a “girl.” Well, then he’s a pedophile. And “looking for a good girl”? He’s a conservative, offensive, oppressive, backwoods fucking hillbilly.
  • He has a jokey self-description, calling himself an “international man of mystery.” I’ve ranted previously about guys who are “looking for a partner in crime.” This is no better.
  • He considers a 9-5 a liability. I have a great, professional job that pays me well and offers me sweet benefits. I’m sorry I’m not independently wealthy and my job would get in the way of our travelling eight months out of the year. Clearly I’m doing life all wrong.
  • His location was Black Hawk. I’ve been there once. Maybe the time I saw him on Bumble was the only time he’s ever been there. But I can’t help assuming if that’s his location that he’s a compulsive gambler who frequents prostitutes.
  • He is wearing a flat brimmed hat in at least one photo.
  • His name has a cutesy spelling. I can date a Chris, but not a Kris. Or a Jasyn. Or Mikel, Zakkery, Rian, or Jaxson.
  • He has a nipple ring. Dude, you’re 43, not 23.

Even the rare one percent that I find compelling enough to swipe right on, if we match, half of them I’ll instantly unmatch. The other half I’ll start a conversation with but most I’ll unmatch after a few messages back and forth because they are unimaginative and dull. My self-description says, “Let’s have a conversation, not an interview.” Most guys can’t figure out how to do that. Besides the addictive quality, I suppose I’m partly using the apps as an ego boost right now. I know it’s a mean thing to do, but it’s not as bad as making plans to meet up and then standing them up, right? It’s also not as bad as going on a date or two with someone and then ghosting. I really feel that most guys I match with just don’t merit an in-person meeting. I’m sure my mood will turn at some point and I’ll actually start dating again, but until then, sorry, guys.

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