The last time I told a guy I had a photographic memory at the bar, I ended up on a semi-blind date eight months later with the same guy who "could've sworn" I was a brunette... If you missed out on the Henry story and have no clue what I'm referring to, click here and enjoy the best worst-first-date ever (https://www.girlwithmanyjobs.com/blog/hey-henry-its-your-pen-pal). But first, hear just how I pulled out my famous party trick yet again, placed a non-monetary bet that I would win yet again, and took a quick mental screenshot of yet another sucker's license. Thirty-five minutes later and I was reciting his full address - including zip code - his birthdate, issue date, and expiration date of his license, and also collecting my winnings.... the first (probably the last) male/guest author on the blog. My hard work and cherished masterpiece that I consider to be these pages filled with my inner thoughts and ideas on the stupidity that is the male species, was about to be handed over to one... Would he add to my record-breaking views that have been coming in over the last few weeks or would he tank it in just one post? Well, I am personally blown away at not only his writing style, but the fact that it doesn't suck. It gives you a quick glimpse into how men see this messed up trend of online dating and I am happy to share it with you all... Sit down, grab your coffee (or wine), and enjoy. xoxo
It’s all about the lead-in. If the title was ‘Here’s What Mid-20s Guy Has to Say About Dating’, then half of this audience would have one foot out of the browser, and to the other half that would stick around – sup?
A little background on me, I downloaded Tinder in the summer of 2014 – while home from college - and was off of it a mere two weeks later after finishing up a virtual high school reunion three years earlier than expected. Looking back on it now – after surviving the aforementioned five-year high school reunion – it’s a toss-up between what I was more comfortable with: swiping left, right, up and down on girls from third-period English two years after graduation or coming up with a good enough excuse as to why those same girls weren’t allowed to swipe cranberry vodkas on our tab at the post-reunion bar.
Fast-forward to post-grad life and the stories you hear from Dot Com Dating basically write themselves better than the bet I made that resulted in this blog. For example, a good friend of mine met a girl via the Dot Com platform, and fast-forward a year later where she’s sitting at a table of ten of your new co-workers at a job you just started two weeks earlier sharing a story of how she was hospitalized because of a beach trip mishap that you happened to be included on the summer before. My updated resume and letter of resignation were written, printed and sitting in my email drafts no more than 20 minutes following that memorable encounter.
I dove back into the Dot Com scene a few days before New Years just to check in on things. It offered more of the same from four years ago – the swiping, the matching – but this time around it had more of an NFL Combine feel to it when it came to which way the swipes were headed. The photos are where it all begins. Anyone with a dog/cat/animal Snapchat filter as the first photo raises a red flag. Then there’s those with the group photo where you bet with yourself on which one she is before scrolling down and finding out (personal favorite, sometimes it takes until the fourth picture to find out if you won or lost, the suspense isoverwhelming). But for whatever reason, nothing is more concerning than when an individual only has one photo on her profile. It’s like drafting the quarterback that threw five touchdowns in the season-opener but finished the season with six touchdowns and 22 interceptions. You can’t think she’s for real (or real at all, for that matter).
The messaging is where it becomes as clear-cut as it gets, especially when it’s the girl that gets the first attempt at it. The 24-hour clock begins which, if we’re being honest, is entirely too much time to type ‘Hey’ and hit send. They don’t give you a 15-week semester to write a thesis only to hand in one page and expect to graduate. There’s also the ‘Hey, how are you? [emoji]’ which eerily resembles the text my mother sent me earlier in the day. I understand that it’s tough, awkward and that I’d be no better at it if the roles were reversed, but it’s all about the lead-in. I hope none of this is coming off as misogynistic, because there’s probably a book out there full of borderline criminal opening lines sent to girls by guys. Both sides are guilty of starting off poorly (maybeone side more than the other). But when someone comes along and drops, “Fuck, Kill Marry: Carson Wentz, Zach Ertz, Nick Foles” you have no choice but to follow that lead-in. Even if your answer makes her question your sexuality two messages in.
Thanks for having me, and never make a bet with someone who you think might be lying about having a photographic memory.
Author - mallory
I've always lived a wild life, so here I am to document it for the world... be ready for some fun adventures, xoxo.