Meeting the boys in the clubs is not the easiest thing, and it hardly lends itself to long term relationships (This is mostly theory supported by a small non-random sample).
So, I decide it would be a good idea to try internet dating. Why not? Instead of only judging the hottie at the end of the bar by his looks, I can judge him by his height, weight, TV/book/movie choices, profile pic, AND writing sample (Does he use good grammar? Does he know that “its” is a possessive pronoun, and that “it’s” is a contraction – pretentious things every self-righteous snob should know).
Besides, EVERYONE knows that internet dating is completely and utterly socially acceptable, and the notion that “internet dating is for nerds” is ANTIQUATED, HYPOCRITICAL and FALSE… (One day I may actually believe this).
So, I sign up for Match.com and set up a profile. After a few days I set up my first internet date with Young Apollo, a grad student from Pennsylvania. Since I’m skeptical about all the boys on Match, I schedule 4 dates for the same week – If I’m going to be a an internet-dating loser, I’m going for the gold.
Young Apollo (half-Greek, studying Greek, has been to Greece) and I decide to meet at a nearby bar. I arrive a few minutes early, check my hair for the millionth time, take a deep breath and make my entrance. I notice a cute boy sitting by the door but pass him to look for my date because 1) I’m early, and Young Apollo probably hasn’t arrived yet, and 2) this cute boy is most definitely out of my league.
I nearly choke when I hear cute boy address me and turn around as he stands up to introduce himself. Young Apollo is very good looking (fair skin, light brown eyes, dark wavy hair and accompanying BEARD). So, I sit down...
The date is going very well. Young Apollo is more than just a pretty face, and the lively conversation seems to fuel itself. He seems to understand my Rothko obsession and we both agree it’s unfair we aren’t in Italy at this very moment. His eyes light up when he laughs (which is an idiom I thought was highly exaggerated until now) and incredibly, he laughs at the one liners and other witticisms (how we are vain) I dish out.
Though I had anticipated 30 minutes maximum concluding with a tragic phone call from my roommate, “WHAT?!?! They’re all DEAD? Who would DO such a thing?!...” My roommate never calls, and 30 minutes becomes two hours and a brief late night stroll.
Young Apollo (ALSO half-Italian – Could this BE any more ridiculous) gives me a bacio on the cheek that reminds me of the forbidden kisses of my mission, and we schedule another date for the weekend. When I get home, I am pleasantly surprised to receive a text message from him making sure I got home safe and saying that he had a nice time. Damn! This boy is sweet. Are the three other internet dates really necessary?
So, I decide it would be a good idea to try internet dating. Why not? Instead of only judging the hottie at the end of the bar by his looks, I can judge him by his height, weight, TV/book/movie choices, profile pic, AND writing sample (Does he use good grammar? Does he know that “its” is a possessive pronoun, and that “it’s” is a contraction – pretentious things every self-righteous snob should know).
Besides, EVERYONE knows that internet dating is completely and utterly socially acceptable, and the notion that “internet dating is for nerds” is ANTIQUATED, HYPOCRITICAL and FALSE… (One day I may actually believe this).
So, I sign up for Match.com and set up a profile. After a few days I set up my first internet date with Young Apollo, a grad student from Pennsylvania. Since I’m skeptical about all the boys on Match, I schedule 4 dates for the same week – If I’m going to be a an internet-dating loser, I’m going for the gold.
Young Apollo (half-Greek, studying Greek, has been to Greece) and I decide to meet at a nearby bar. I arrive a few minutes early, check my hair for the millionth time, take a deep breath and make my entrance. I notice a cute boy sitting by the door but pass him to look for my date because 1) I’m early, and Young Apollo probably hasn’t arrived yet, and 2) this cute boy is most definitely out of my league.
I nearly choke when I hear cute boy address me and turn around as he stands up to introduce himself. Young Apollo is very good looking (fair skin, light brown eyes, dark wavy hair and accompanying BEARD). So, I sit down...
The date is going very well. Young Apollo is more than just a pretty face, and the lively conversation seems to fuel itself. He seems to understand my Rothko obsession and we both agree it’s unfair we aren’t in Italy at this very moment. His eyes light up when he laughs (which is an idiom I thought was highly exaggerated until now) and incredibly, he laughs at the one liners and other witticisms (how we are vain) I dish out.
Though I had anticipated 30 minutes maximum concluding with a tragic phone call from my roommate, “WHAT?!?! They’re all DEAD? Who would DO such a thing?!...” My roommate never calls, and 30 minutes becomes two hours and a brief late night stroll.
Young Apollo (ALSO half-Italian – Could this BE any more ridiculous) gives me a bacio on the cheek that reminds me of the forbidden kisses of my mission, and we schedule another date for the weekend. When I get home, I am pleasantly surprised to receive a text message from him making sure I got home safe and saying that he had a nice time. Damn! This boy is sweet. Are the three other internet dates really necessary?
