So. The dating site. It’s become a bit like a second job, to be honest. And I’m not sure that’s a good thing. I come home to several messages a day and I don’t often have the time – or the patience – to trawl through them and answer them all. I like to try to be polite and respond to people who’ve made the effort to contact me but sometimes there’s just no point. Like the ‘hilarious’ 47 year old who started his profile thus:
‘I figure i’ve got 24 monthsish to get everything the way i want it, which includes meeting an amazing woman and having a family….quite genuinely looking to have the family that everyone else started in their early 20s while i was being all mediaey…’
Depressing. But quite possibly the future of all these man-boys.
But some have been quite humourous. There was the ‘acupuncturist and former foot masseur’ (is that an actual job?!) who seemed very keen to exchange regular emails until one day he asked me – in quite a subtle way to be honest – if my feet ever ached after squeezing them into high heels. When i responded by saying i was the most low-maintenance person I know and I only ever wore trainers or flip flops, I never heard from him again. He should just have come clean about being a foot fetishist – I wouldn’t have judged him!
And so the parade of the weird and the wonderful goes on. Some of them genuinely seem nice, but I’m still not at the stage where I fancy standing outside a tube station waiting for a complete stranger who I might vaguely recognise if they look a bit like their photo. I know I’ll have to force myself at some point though. Soon, soon….