Online dating is as much of a dysfunctional circus as ever as I discovered last night. Not that I was on a date so arranged, but my friends regaled me with stories.
A catalogue of low-rent prospects…
Out for whatever they can get…
We re-visited the predictable reactions of normal people to abnormal ways of finding possible boyfriends or girlfriends; it’s horrifying.
One subtle point was one friend’s astonishment at the speed with which people have sex and/or assume exclusivity (whatever that means.) In her mind, dating was about interacting with one or more people with the aim of better acquaintanceship. In other words, she’d be meeting and going out with as many prospects as she wanted.
Men interested in her bridled at her attitude to this, based on the assumption that once they’d met, sex was soon – and sure – to follow, and a monogamous relationship would ensue. This, mind you, between two strangers who’d met for perhaps two hours total.
Her thought was that dating should be time spent filtering and sifting possible candidates for consideration; the prevailing thought among the men she met was that all getting-to-know-you stuff would be compressed into a few dates, there’d be sex and voila! A couple!
Who would volunteer for something so asinine? How many failed interactions, how much emotional exhaustion, how much cynicism comes from this unthinking foolishness?
No wonder people run out of enthusiasm for the thrill and happiness and, yes, work, of marriage. We run a marathon before we run our marathon.