I've been officially divorced for about 3-1/2 years now, but if you take out the official part from the point when the ink was dry on the papers, I've technically been single for 5-ish years. And up until a few months ago, I was vehemently against the whole dating app thing — because I truly believed that looking for a relationship on your phone was, well … desperate, weird, and a little too comparable to online shopping. Throw in the whole, "What if the dude hiding behind this facade on his profile of a non-smoking-down-to-earth dad who likes to maintain an active lifestyle is actually serial killer in disguise?" thing — and I just wasn't having it.
That is until I rattled off my anti-online-dating policy to a good friend while on a hike one day back in July.
She didn't beat around the bush — and politely told me that I'm not 25 anymore, and as an accomplished woman in my very early 40s, I was going to have to bite the bullet and get on a damn dating app — unless I wanted to continue hitting the hiking trails by myself every single weekend. Because apparently men our age aren't hunting for women in the woods or in bars. (WTF?) Turns out they're at home on their phones. Looking for women on dating apps. Huh.
And so one night after a couple glasses of wine, I thought, "Aw shucks, what the hell?" And I did it. I downloaded Bumble — and much to my surprise, the experience has been anything but torturous. Actually, it's been quite entertaining and often downright comical. But the reason I'm laughing at the whole thing is because pretty much everyone I've talked to or gone on a date with whom I met on the app has made me question whether I was smack dab in the middle of a Seinfeld episode.
No, I'm serious. Like EVERY SINGLE DUDE.
I'm pretty sure I've even caught myself making faces and/or laughing in the middle of said conversations and dates, because I'm sitting there picturing interactions between Elaine, Jerry, George, and Kramer in my head.
It's like I'm living in Bizarro World, but it's real life. Or something.
Let's go ahead and break down the episodes I've "seen" so far.
The Low Talker
OMG. From the minute we said hello at the restaurant, I couldn't understand, let alone hear, a word this dude said. After countless minutes of leaning over the table and saying, "What … what?" over and over again, I finally gave up and opted to just sit there smiling and nodding my head while sucking back my wine.
Though I did manage to comprehend the part of the conversation where he suggested we split the check. (Read ya loud and clear, buddy.)
Oh yeah, and the part at the end of the date, where he proceeded to shove his tongue down my throat and ask if I wanted to get together again on Thursday?
Uhh … I didn't hear that. (Side note — thank GOD I had Altoids in my car for the ride home.)
The Bad Boy
Snort. What are we … 16? I don't know who this dude thought he was, but from the minute we started messaging, he acted like he'd done time or something. (Maybe he had? Whatever.)
Me: "How was your weekend? Did you do anything fun"
Him: "Oh … you don't want to know … hahahaha."
Me: "Um, actually, I do. Otherwise I wouldn't have asked."
Him: "No … I really don't think you do. Why don't you tell me something about yourself to impress me?"
(That's gonna be a NO from me, dawg.)
In all honesty, he probably would've had better luck if he'd pulled an alternate Costanza routine … like, "Hi, I'm George. I'm unemployed, and I live with my parents."
At least that's believable in this day and age.
The Same Outfit Guy
You guyssss?! The first guy I ever went out with from Bumble WORE THE SAME THING on our second date as he did on our first. Like the EXACT same outfit. Just like the black and white dress girl did with Jerry! Did I mention that the dates were only two days apart?
Needless to say, there was no third date.
God, I hope he at least changed his underwear. Never mind — I don't want to know that.
The 'He Took It Out' Dude
Oh come on — you knew this one was going to be on the list. Obviously I don't need to go into too much detail, but I'll at least set the stage for you.
No, this was not our first date. Yes, the date had gone well, and there was already talk of another date beyond this one. So it's not like this scenario came out of nowhere.
Anyhoo … we were in the car after dinner … one thing led to another … yada yada yada … and suddenly there "IT" was.
He kind of glanced over at me in the passenger seat with a side-eye as if to ask, "Do you know what to do with this?"
Um, yeah … I know what you want me to do with it, buddy. I'm divorced, not dead. (Common misconception.)
The Loser
Let me just go ahead and put it out there that I'm not trying to be mean, here. (OK, maybe I am.)
Things were actually going well with this one, in the sense that we'd moved from messaging on the app to texting like normal human beings. He was sweet. Seemed sincere. He was a little intense/took himself pretty seriously, but I figured he just needed to lighten up a bit.
And then he proceeded to tell me that Friday was his 40th birthday. Naturally, I asked him what he was doing that day/night. Dude. Had. NO PLANS. I repeat NO PLANS! On his 40th BIRTHDAY.
I maybe could've gotten past it had it been his 39th. But this is a milestone, people. And he's lived in the same damn town since high school, so he either a.) has no friends, or b.) doesn't like to have fun. Or both.
So I did what Jerry would've done in this case — I peaced out. Was it a little premature and shallow of me? Maybe. But I refuse to apologize for it.
The Desperado Guy
Yep. No joke. There may not have been any sort of music playing, but at one point during the date, this dude sort of spaced out and seemed to be in another world or something. Like mid-conversation.
To this day, I'm not sure if he'd had too much to drink, realized he'd forgotten to shut off his toaster oven, or if he suddenly decided to sit there and contemplate whether or not aliens exist.
At any rate, there was only one way to respond when he texted something about getting together again after that night.
OK, OK, in all seriousness, the Bumble experience has been much better than I expected. And who knows? Maybe I'll wind up finding my Jerry.
Well, in the sense that I'll wind up in some sort of relationship where we're like Elaine and Jerry, but we put the "this" with the "that" and actually have sex on the regular (that's non-negotiable), followed by cuddling, sleepovers, and next-day phone calls.
But if all else fails and I do find myself on the couch alone on Saturday nights, at least I can count on Seinfeld reruns to keep me entertained.
If nothing else, I can use them as a study guide to prepare for future endeavors.
