So, Wednesday has come round again and, without wanting to sound like the old woman I have truly become, where the hell did the last week go? This week has had a distinct lack of wine, sleep and practically anything other than work. So whilst todays post may be more aptly titled coffee Wednesday rather than wine Wednesday we shall push on.
Today I want to talk about dating- partly because who doesn’t love a good gossip about bumble but also because I need major help. I am fairly newly single and living back in my parents’ house in my home town. I’ve never really dated whilst living at home. I had boyfriends through school but our time was spent hanging around, trying to find places where we could make out and not get caught and generally doing whatever teenagers do. Surprisingly that doesn’t appeal so much now.
I feel like whilst my knight/princess in shining armour (or architect in a designer suit) might be waiting for me in a bar in the Northern Quarter, I’m not holding my breath. There are probably lots of viable options out there- in the real world, but I also know what I’m like on a night out. I don’t want to use the term ‘resting bitch face’ because I don’t subscribe to the gendered nature of the insult but you get the picture. I have been told to smile on more than one occasion and if you know me at all you can imagine how that goes down. I hear work is another place people meet prospective partners but I work in a newsroom with predominantly married and/or middle aged people. After quiet consideration I have decided the adultery thing just isn’t for me and whilst I’m sure being a sugar baby is a pretty comfortable set up, I work with journalists- there’s not going to be a lot of sugar.
So, this brings me to online dating or Bumble more specifically. I like Bumble, its CEO Whitney Wolfe Herd is a massive girlboss and I kind of like that the girl has to message first. My only issue is I’m not good at Bumble. My sarcasm never translates well and I know that may say more about the people I’m matching with rather than my obvious hilarity but where do you go when someone calls you cold within six messages? (This only encourages me) It’s not that I choose to be facetious. If anything it is a natural reaction to seeing a man in a vest taking a selfie in the gym mirror. Another issue: If there is a dog/cat/bunny/other furry creature in any of their pictures I’m going to swipe right. This leads to fairly questionable matches with really cute pets I will never meet.
I feel like Bumble has changed too. I first started using it back in 2015- an all-round better time. President Obama was in office, we didn’t know what Brexit was and I was still a student and considered 10 o’clock an early start. After re-downloading it now in 2018, when we are inflicted with the Donald’s orange mug on the TV daily and Brexit very much means Brexit, Bumble seems to have taken the same downward turn.
Why does everyone want to hang out instead of going out? I’m 23 years old, we can go to a bar. My parents taught me about stranger danger- please don’t utter the words ‘netflix and chill’. I received a message last night at 1am saying ‘what are you doing? Do you want to come over?’ No, no I don’t! It’s a Tuesday night, do you not have a job?
Why are all the men I match secretly (or not so secretly) sexist? After completely ignoring my opener (which spice girl he’d be- I get down to the nitty gritty straight away), Mike decided to inform me that he doesn’t have time “for silly little girls who will use me to go for expensive dinners and then ghost me. I don’t have time for using whores who expect me to obey their every wish and then think I won’t want anything back in return. But you seem nice so hi.” As elated as I am that you think I ‘seem nice’ I’m okay Mike but your misogynistic bullshit is not.
Upon seeing that I’m a journalist Sam messaged me just to check that I am capable of writing about more than ‘women stuff’ and I wasn’t a ‘feminazi’. Sorry to disappoint babes.
And my personal favourite was Jack, an unpublished screenwriter (aka unemployed) who asked me if I became a journalist or in his words a ‘sell out’ because ‘you’re not intelligent to go into the real creative arts’. I informed him that I had two degrees and he told me he had a ‘degree from the most important university of all’. Oxford? Cambridge? UCL? No, no Jack has a degree from the University of life…
So this is it, me holding my hands up in the air asking for help or an intervention or something. While I think living in my small home town probably doesn’t help, I don’t think moving out for the sake of my dating life is a completely viable reason (as much as I have discussed it with friends). In the meantime I may have to delete bumble again and go and talk to someone face to face…imagine that.