Masters of re-invention – the internet dating man
Posted on July 30, 2010
It all starts so promisingly – the internet site that promises love or your money back. As if a refund can make up for the fact you’re still feeling like a spinster aunt after all those failed encounters of the worst kind. But still, you tell yourself ’this time it’s going to work'and armed with your pseudonym and log on details you present yourself in your very best light, changing words like ’cellulite, neurotic and forgetful'to ’curvaceous, determined and full of surprises’. The mistress of reinvention. Within three clicks you’re faced with a range of rugged man-photos, all declaring themselves to be interesting, strong and sensitive. Without a thought that they too have reinvented themselves. Interesting equals self-interested, strong might be describing his body odour , and sensitive means don’t you dare suggest I’m not a real man or I’ll … I’ll stomp off and sulk. Seriously, I have never met a man on an internet date where the description matched the goods. There should be a law against it.
Take Terry (please, do). Generous, warm and sensitive. Yeah right. He generously chose an expensive restaurant then split the bill with a micrometer. Item by item. I seriously thought he was going to count the crumbs from the bread rolls to ensure he hadn’t subbed my meal by a penny more than he intended. All of which suggested he didn’t want to invest in me, that the date had been a disappointment. But he cheerfully looked up from splitting the change (20p in his favour – by now I was watching closely, and feeling mean) and asked if I had my Oyster card. Because, he reasoned, having paid the tube fare to get here, it wouldn’t cost me much more to tube it back to his then home again. Oh, a train fare calculator AND the offer of sex at the end of the line – what girl could refuse. Well, this one did. I left swiftly, leaving him to calculate the cost of a failed date.
Another blind date promised to be ’chatty, entertaining and lively’. I spent the evening trying to make polite conversation with a statue – what do you do, where do you come from, any brothers or sisters …'but getting one word answers, him staring straight ahead. I reasoned he was disappointed in me, maybe the promised goods didn’t look so good in the flesh. But we’d rather daftly booked a set dinner so it was hard for either of us to make our excuses and leave. Then suddenly, somewhere around the cheese course, he turned and clutched my knee and said he found me fascinating and wanted me to go home with him. Somewhat startled, I suggested we didn’t have that sort of chemistry, and it wasn’t the sort of thing I did anyway. He got quite accusatory – my rejection would wound him. I had no idea how to treat men, and anyway, I hadn’t flattered him enough all evening. (Er, run that by me again?) But I could undo the ’damage'and pay him the highest compliment – by going to bed with him. I suggested – somewhat brusquely – that he could pay me the highest compliment by unclasping my knee and letting me go home alone. I left – and this time, he got the whole bill.
Still, undettered, I clicked and clicked again. I met ’rugged'(bully), ’alternative'(lives with mum and has never seen cleaning supplies in his life) and a ’sprightly 45'who I swear qualified for a free bus pass – sixty if he was a day. The internet, the place where we can re-invent ourselves. But gents, if you’re going to meet up, you’re going to be found out. Had you ever thought of that?
Filed Under Dating advice, General