I'm Miss M. Here are some of my Online Dating tips, backed up by my sometimes hilarious, and often disconcerting stories…
When I first signed up to Internet dating a friend gave me some advice that I really wish I’d ignored.
She said: Never be the one to approach a man. Let him initiate contact with you. Because men like to hunt.
I’d listened to her, and there I was… I’d been “hunted” by complete freakazoids who wouldn’t know how to love, date, or even hold a conversation with a woman if their balls depended on it. I didn’t know why I’d attracted such horrible horny losers?! Maybe I had a “I’ll have sex with you if you treat me badly” look about me. Or maybe that’s just the way men are when they don’t actually care about you.
Either way, I refused to give up hope, and decided to take back control. It was time for me to go on a hunt of my own. It was time for me to say hello first.
I decided not to be hasty with my prowling (ew). The plan was to scope out the prey, decide on appropriate weaponry (witty shit to say to get their attention) and go from there. So I started scrolling through my options, and was excited to see there was real quality out there (or so the profiles would have me believe). These guys seemed cute, funny, sometimes shy, sometimes outgoing, and really into outdoor activities.
No really… all of them had pictures of themselves abseiling, tough-muddering, running a marathon, or tackling some kind of foreign animal (often just a foreign beer). It got so repetitive that I started playing a drinking game with myself – I’d take a swig of my wine every time someone’s profile said they liked outdoor sports.
Needless to say, I got wasted that night and had to go to bed. The hunt would have to continue some other time.
Don’t get me wrong, I’d gone through boys’ profiles before. But I was always waiting for them to approach me so it was more like window shopping. Now, I was ready for full-fledged eBay bidding battles.
And that’s when I came across Mr Maybe’s profile.
I was about half way through a hunt. I’d clicked on a few dudes that looked date worthy and had even started a few conversations.
Mr Maybe came up, and I wasn’t sure what to do with him. So I opened a new web browser, and let his profile sit pretty while I thought about it (and continued looking). I don’t know why it was such a tough decision. He was cute, seemed sweet. He didn’t fall into the outdoor sport cliche, but he did have a picture of himself playing cricket (which earned him massive brownie points).
Despite all that he seemed kind of boring. Still, I decided to give him a shot.
Why the bloody hell not?
And my gamble totally paid off. From there onwards, we started messaging each other fairly frequently. He was anything but boring, and even had me laughing out loud (LOLing) through our banter. He didn’t show any signs of being a drainer, a sex-pest, an alcoholic, or just plain too cool. So that was nice.
Also, it just so happened that he shared my Indian heritage. This had never meant much to me (despite my parents’ not-so-subtle hints they’d be just that tiny bit happier if I ended up with an Indian). But in this case, it was kind of a novelty and I enjoyed it. You see, I’d never dated an Indian guy before.
Oh, except there was this one time at my best mate’s 16th… I was 16 too, and she was having her birthday dinner at an Indian restaurant. There was a hot waiter with an eyebrow ring (all the rage back then). So my arsehole mates decided to leave my number on a napkin for him. He thought it was hilarious and came over for a flirty chat. I was instantly smitten.
The next day he came and visited me at my part-time job, which was only one block away from his house! It was total fate. So we went on a couple of dates, and he even took me for rides in his amazing red Porsche. I can’t remember what quite went wrong with us… I think he started popping into work a little too often. I also have vague memories of being in his apartment and trying to leave – with him blocking the door for just that little bit too long for it to be flirty. Hmm, that’s a bit of a worry now I think about it… Anyway, that Indian romance ended… But MAYBE another one was about to begin?
After a couple of weeks of texting, I finally asked Mr Maybe out on a date. I was taking this control thing very seriously so was happy to call the shots. I organised the time, the restaurant, everything. And it all went to plan.
Unlike the majority of Online dating scenarios, Mr Maybe was even better in person. We had shitloads in common, including the racially stereotyped stuff like our undying love for Tendulkar and Bollywood blockbusters. Conversation didn’t stop for a second, and we ended the date with a sweet walk to my car… and kiss on the cheek.
A part of me wanted to take the hunting thing to the next level and jump him for a pash. But I held back in the hope we’d get to know each other better first. And I got exactly what I wanted…
My phone lit up with a text mere minutes after we left the restaurant. He’d just got to his car and wrote to say he’d had an amazing time, loved our chats, and hadn’t been mugged. Just lovely really. The second date was already booked in a few texts later, and I was so pumped to see the tide had finally turned for me!
Taking control was definitely the way to go. Sound too good to be true?
I guess we’ll find out…