Fishing

So.  Riding the high of self-discovery I've made over the past few days, I decided yesterday to YOLO (or whatever you kids say) and restart online dating.  OK- I know what you're thinking: why?  You've made all of these proclamations about this being your time...blah blah blah...figuring out what you want next...blah blah blah...mooning over an ex..blah blah blah.

Well, you're not wrong, but hear me out.

See, one of things I've learned about myself is that I HATE dating.  Whenever I meet someone, I'm pretty much vetting whether or not we're going to get married within the next week.  If I can't picture it, he's out.  If I can kind of picture it, he's all the way in.  In other words, I'm bad at being casual, cool and collected, all of the things that make people good at dating.  I'm more of a sloppy, doe-eyed, and drooling type, clinging to whatever scrap of attention a decent guy will throw my way.

I think this type of reaction to guys is something targeted that I want to work on and feel positive about doing so.  It's concrete, nonjudgmental, and has measured results.  My therapist recommends that I should date multiple people at the same time in order to force myself to keep things casual and from getting too serious too quickly.

When you step back from that advice, you have to realize there's an inherently difficult challenge therein: how in the HELL do you get multiple guys to like you enough to KEEP dating you for any extended length of time?  Who do I look like, Liberace?  I find it hard enough to catch the attention of one reasonably attractive homosexual man, let alone two or more.

So I supposed that the only way I could practice casual dating is to actually meet guys and keep it casual.  Hence, we're back to where I started.

I decided to keep things simple to start and only rejoined Tinder.  Now I know all you straight ladies just rolled your eyes, but in the gay world, Tinder is like Christian Mingle.  Unlike the intensively aggressive apps like Grindr or Scruff, Tinder isolates your conversation to those gentleman whom you have already, albeit cursorily, screened; therefore you are less likely to be assaulted with unsolicited offers of fellatio or being addressed as "daddy" every few minutes.

The first hurdle to conquer with Tinder is your profile.  How do you select photos to evoke a complex and nuanced worldview in just a glimpse?  How can you communicate an apparent sense of confidence and worldliness with only a snapshot?  If the photos other guys post are any indication, I should:

• Pose wearing sunglasses holding an alcoholic beverage
• Be the least attractive guy in a group of very attractive men
• Have a wide-open smile with a forceful thumbs up
• Pose with a lady friend at either a formal dance or a wedding
• Showcase an animal that may or may not be mine
• Be on top of a mountain

Again, in the interest of simplicity, I just picked the last few selfies I posted to Insta (read: the last three day's worth).  Oh I did throw one in of my sister and me, just to be slightly more on trend (I feel so fetch using these keen, nonsense words the kids use).

Next, you have to describe yourself in words.  Reading this blog, you might think I could whip up something easily, but then you'd be wrong.  How can you be this pithy and interesting when most people only swipe after a five second glance of your face?  Plus, you're limited to 500 words and the idea is to keep it casual, not unload my desperate journey of self-discovery.  I decided to include information I'd most like to know about other guys, so I briefly list where I live, sort of what I do, and some fun facts (vegetarian, cat owner, Harry Potter nerd, tattoos, and my height).  

Your height?  Why is that important?  Let me tell you: it's CRITICAL!  For god's sake I'm 6'6", which is largely incompatible with anyone under 5'11".  I'd like to be one of those guys that says it's not important, but it simply, unquestionably, is.  Don't get me wrong there are many, MANY beautiful men out there who don't meet my minimum height requirement, but things get complicated with a strong height difference: hugs, walking, holding hands, surveying a crowd, etc.

But I digress.

So the profile is set and I'm ready to swipe.  For those that have never had the pleasure, swiping on Tinder is a perfect encapsulated experience of the humanity's degradation.  You will always start swiping with noble intentions: reading most everyone's words, searching all the photos, and feeling guilty for rejecting.  Sure, some of his tattoos are misspelled, but that doesn't mean he isn't a good person!  After awhile, you start getting a little more fluid with the swiping, slowly forgetting that each person flashing in front of your screen is an actual human being.  Before you know it, your finger is swiping left furiously thinking all sorts of horrible things like:

• left eye crooked
• too short
• stupid haircut
• looks like an asshole
• I hate that name
• too short
• photo is kind of grainy
• dog is too fat
• too short
• dresses like a douchebag

See?  You have to literally stop yourself from becoming a horrible, judgmental person: the very thing you hope other guys won't be when engaging your profile.

To make a long story short (too late!), as of typing this and swiping god knows how many guys, I've got a whopping 10 matches.  One of them started chatting with me awhile ago and I don't yet want to gouge out my eyes or get married.  

So here's to a noble experiment.  Wish me luck.

And don't forget to send along all of those attractive, tall, gay friends you keep telling me about.