I’ve started dating, oh joy! I have joined Ok cupid, a free online dating site. I have never been on a dating website, there was never a need. I’m ready, I say to myself. I’m not ready, I say even louder. I ask my therapist if I am too fucked up to be in a relationship, she looks at me as says “you’re no more fucked up than the rest of us”. Cool.
I tell everyone my plans and everyone has an opinion. My mom says “great, have fun and great sex”. My best bitch says, in her best dire voice “be careful out there, it’s dangerous.” I all of a sudden imagine her as Elmer Fud- “be berry carefol, you’re hunting wrabbits”. I laugh to myself as she talking.
I cautiously tell my kids that I am going to start dating, my daughter says “yay, you deserve to be happy mommy”. My son says “Ok mom, just don’t bring a different man home every night”.
I nod my head in agreement, half proud and half shocked. He is so much like his father I can barely believe it.
A few days later my mind comes back to dangerous. Dangerous? My husband just died, I can handle anything. The next night I sit on my bed, with my putie in my lap (my son used to call the computer a “putie” and it just stuck). I open my putie and begin the daunting yet exciting task of finding a boy. Okaaaay cuupid! Okay cupid make me a match.
The Ok Cupid website is more daunting than I could have ever imagined.
Why do I want to be in a relationship? What kind of relationship do I want? Do I want casual sex? Do I want kinky sex? Do I want ANY sex? Now comes the uploading of the photos. These photos have to be everything. They have to be perfect. They need to say sexy but not slutty, kind but not a doormat, easygoing but not careless. But most of all they need to impart the fact that I am available but not desperate. Every man on every talk show since the beginning of time says that they can smell desperation a mile away. I try to avoid desperation. I take a few pictures of myself, ready to go, maybe. Ok now I am really ready. Wait, Ok now. I upload the pictures, four to be exact.
Oh boy, OK, I can totally do this, I say to myself. I fill out about twenty-five questions at first, just to get started. I’M MATCHED!
I get a list of boys that are matched to me by percentages. Wow, this is kinda fun! Boys, boys all types of boys! It has been about ten minutes and I have yet to receive a message from the new love of my life. WHAT’S WRONG WITH THIS SITE? I slam my putie closed and go to bed angry.
The next morning I awoke to about thirty messages. YES! This is it, I’m going to find him. The boy to complete me, the boy to take away all of my pain. The hark angels sing and I quickly scan all of my messages from boys and more boys. Yep this is fun. I quickly begin to gather phone numbers from boys. I love the attention.
I am getting messages from boys as close as Estacada and as far away as Belgium. OK, I need to get organized, Marc lives in Belgium? Or is he the guy that lives in Gresham. I make mental lists of the boys I like and the boys I like like. I give the boys I like like my cell number and wait. The first boy I like like sends me a text asking how my day is, I reply, “good, how was yours?” He texted back “OK, I just have this problem” . I say to myself this is it, his problem is trying to figure out how to ask me out. I’m going on a date. I breathe and try to calm myself down. I don’t want to be to eager.
Then IT happened, IT popped up. A picture of his veiny, pale, erect penis. I stare at the screen of my phone, is that…? Yep that is a penis. I slam my phone screen down. I guess he’s not going to ask me out, DAMMIT! I pick up my phone and stare at the “thing” on my phone. I start to ponder my place in the dating world. Then I start to wonder, just how many men would send a dick pic upon first text meeting?
And so it began….