I'm Miss M. Here are some of my Online Dating tips, backed up by my sometimes hilarious, and often disconcerting stories…
Was this IT? Was I about to consummate my Online Dating lyf with Mr Mate?
We’d made it through our less than perfect brain scan date, and he was in need of some healing – of the sexual variety. At least that’s what I thought when he asked me to, “Come inside”. Ha. Sorry. I promise* not to get carried away with dirty jokes in this post.
*Some promises are made to be broken.
I’d been dying to get some alone time with the gorgeous Mr Mate, but all of a sudden I just wanted to go home. Why? Because of one downer date? Was I really expecting a brain scan to be romantic and exciting? No. Because I’m not an idiot (although many examples of my behaviour say otherwise). I wanted to get closer to Mr Mate and this was my chance. So I shooshed the negative voice in my head and graciously accepted. Meanwhile, I have no recollection of how long it actually took me to make that decision. Poor Mr Mate was probably sitting there for hours while I engaged in my mental tug of war. Oh well. The outcome was sure to please him.
Or so I thought.
As I stepped out of the car to follow him inside I started feeling sick in the stomach. I dismissed it as nerves. Nerves are good, right? They’re a sign we care. Then the sickness intensified. I told myself to build a bridge. Mr Mate had just survived an onslaught of radioactive waves through his brain. A slightly churning tummy was not going to stop me from getting some lovin’. So I kept walking. Until the churning became a burn. And it was no longer in my literal gut, but the one that’s controlled by my instincts. It told me that I was forcing myself to do something that I didn’t want to do.
It was like that time in Year 7 when I was in a school-wide dance performance. A kick-ass number set to ‘Everybody’ (Backstreet’s Back). We even got to dress up as mummies! (We got wrapped up in flimsy bandages.) But it was like srsly the best thing that had ever happened to me. And to make it even more exciting there was a verse where I would be front and centre! For a girl whose only friends at that point ran away from her at lunchtime, this was THE chance to prove my worth and show the world my sparkle. But half way through the performance, I started to feel a breeze.
I ignored the feeling and kept dancing. But then a wave of sickness hit me. Because I realised the bandages around my arse were starting to come undone. And there was NOTHING I could do about it because I had to keep moving my arms all mummy-like. As my front-and-centre moment crept up, my sickness intensified. But I kept moving.
And then I remembered something. Part of the choreography required me to turn around and bend over.
There I was. In front of my entire school. Ready to “prove” myself. I didn’t want to do it. But I also didn’t want to be a coward and let the team down. So I took a deep breath, ignored the sick feeling and moved my booty – baring my pink patterned undies to EVERYONE. Backstreet was BACK in a big way.
And boy, did the world get to see my sparkle.
The sickness I felt walking towards Mr Mate’s house was just as strong as flashing my entire school. But this time, there was no team to let down. There was nothing to prove. Saying “no” to Mr Mate didn’t make me a coward. Yes, I liked him. Yes, I wanted to sleep with him. But no, not right now. It didn’t feel right.
So I stopped walking. Mr Mate turned back and asked what was wrong. I wanted to tell him the truth, but I had no idea how to articulate what was going on in my head: I just had a Backstreet Boys related flashback. I think not. So I panicked and told him I’d stupidly forgotten an important deadline. Oops, silly me. It was so damn awkward. I was metres away from his house, and probably jumping up and down on the spot like I do when I’m anxious. He must’ve known I was lying, but he didn’t say anything. He simply hugged me and said he’d like to catch up again soon.
I felt so relieved when I got home. And that’s when it hit me. None of this was about timing, or brain scans, or me being too “picky”. Argh, I hate it when people say that. Like it’s a crime to have standards and listen to our gut instincts? Surely we should settle for the first dude who shows interest and doesn’t repulse us. Otherwise our ovaries would cry tears of loneliness.
At the end of the day, I was realising Mr Mate simply wasn’t right for me. Sure, we clicked. Sure, he was wonderful and smart and open-hearted and pretty. But I wasn’t feeling it. I still couldn’t tell you why.
We saw each other two more times after that. The first was a Yum Cha date. It was here that Mr Mate told me his migraines were most likely a result of work stress and that he’d be fine. Thank God! That’s the only thing to report from that lunch. We talked about stuff, and it just felt like I was catching up with a buddy.
The final time I saw him was a dinner date. We went out to a swanky place in Crown, Melbourne. It was decadent and sexy. I think it was Mr Mate’s attempt at putting the fire back into our romance. But you can’t start a fire without a spark. BAM. I just totally Springsteened you!
I think Mr Mate could tell I’d started emotionally checking out because over the dinner he was just pure mean to me! It was like he was a completely different person. We started talking about my film script, and he told me no one in India would like it because it didn’t have “a twist”. Okay then. And then we started talking about the gym and he told me I was doing all the wrong classes. Worst of all, when it came to deciding what to order, he argued against everything I liked. DO NOT, I repeat DO NOT come between a hungry chick and her cravings!
Maybe it was his way of pushing me away before I had the chance to end it? Maybe he was in the same boat as me and had decided we weren’t right? Maybe he was just having a bad day? Either way, I don’t hold it against him. I should’ve told him I wasn’t feeling it before those last two dates ever happened. The worst thing we can do in the dating game is waste someone’s time. Okay, maybe that’s not the worst thing, but it’s still pretty shit. I guess the optimist within hoped that the spark I felt on our first date would return. But nope.
So. Back I went onto eBay for love. To look for my next hunk. But I felt completely uninspired – and kind of sad that it didn’t work out with Mr Mate. Looking at the faces of random strangers was only making it worse. Especially since most of them looked like murderers. So I went to shut down my computer.
But then I remembered… I still had an email waiting from Mr Amazing. The one who liked ice cream, and gave me a glimmer of hope during the brain scan date. I had an urge to write back to him. But could I really do that after all this time?
I guess I could try and see what happened. But what on Earth would I say?!
Backstreet’s Back – Alright!