Online Dating
dating post-divorce is terrifying. i have been married to the same man that i began dating when i was 19-years-old, we have a demon child that we coparent and we frequently grocery shop together because i like to buy in bulk so what sue me. we are not technically legally divorced because who even has money for lawyers, so there's that, and ever since that dumb fuckhead donald trump took office i am filled with a burning hatred for all men that is at least five times greater than my usual burning hatred for all men. how am i still single!
the answer is because men are trash.
dating dudes in this year of 2017 is actually a nightmare and i want to kill everyone. online dating sites truly are the armpit of the internet. i hate using the word 'armpit' to describe something but that's how bad it is. my first stab was at tindr. LOL. no. my friend who probably is my enemy suggested i try plenty of fish dot com because it is better than the other dating sites with less freaks and weirdos. i put up a photo of myself with a gigantic, toothy smile as blood gushed from my mouth. there is blood running down my chin onto my chest and pooling into my cupped hands. my profile reads as follows:
"mother of dragons of chihuahuas"
i am a young writer and comedian living in chicago.
interests include:
yelling at men on the internet
discussing what aspects of a plot are problematic while watching a movie
reading
feminism
chihuahuas
i have a 3-yr-old son who would turn you to ash if you stare in the eyes.
within 15 minutes my inbox was filled with 45 messages from horny dudes in the greater chicagoland area.
"hi." hey. hello. heyyyyyy. u r beautiful!! hey there. hi there. i'm just a nice guy looking for a chance. how are you? you're a mom, for real? too pretty 2 be mom. WOW O WOW are you REAL cuz you are a beautiful angel. you scare me. i know you must get a lot of messages but i just had to say hello LOL. i love kids and i don't care that you're a mom i still want to get to know you.
can i be your jorah mormont?
JORAH MORMONT IS THE EXILED FUCKBOY OF WESTEROS WHO IS DYING OF AN ANCIENT DISEASE THAT HE DESERVES FOR BEING A TREACHEROUS SELF-SERVING OLD SELL SWORD AND HIS LOVE FOR DANY IS EMBARRASSING HE SHOULD BE ASHAMED. DO. NOT. TALK. TO. ME. OR. MY. SON. EVER. AGAIM.
somehow god gave me the strength to wade through the landfill of dick in my inbox and i managed two dates out of the word diarrhea. they were both, spoiler alert, not good! the first date was purely for sex. just trying to get laid, here. i show up to his place and there is a massive mustard stain on his bedspread and he said he didn't clean it up because he thought i would think it was funny. i did think it was funny and we had sex but i asked to use his toothbrush after and while i was brushing accidentally got lipstick on the brush and he said to me he thought for a second there was blood on the the handle because he has sensitive gums that bleed frequently enough that he thought his toothbrush was coated in dried blood.
the second date. oh my god. we went to see a movie. strike one: he didn't buy the tickets in advance because he was raised by wolves? so we had to sit in the front row. that is honestly enough of a fuck up that i should have feigned death to get out of the date, but i really wanted to see get out so i sat in the front fucking row. strike two: he jumped at a not scary part of the movie. no one else was even remotely scared by the part and he jumped out of his skin. it was so awkward! like... okay? strike three: he came in me without permission and then paypaled me $200 to cover the costs of plan b which everyone knows only costs at max $50 so what. the. fuck.
simply harrowing. to sort through the garbage men i developed a new screening process for potential suitors. before i can even think about dating a guy, first we must meet in a public space at a given time. i am not trying to get murdered by some guy named rob so we meet in a park, or something. absolutely no talking is allowed. the man must approach me and kneel before my chihuahua marvin. marvin's reactions will determine whether or not correspondence continues.
one of two things will happen:
1) marvin sniffs indifferently at the air in the general direction of the man and then lets out a piercing scream so sharp that causes pressure to slowly build in the eyeballs causing them to burst. my eyeballs are immune to this, obv, but not so fortunate for the man.
2) marvin will make eye contact with my maybe future lover. once this happens, the man will receive a message on his phone. he will open the message and in this message contains a video. the video begins to play. a videotape filled with nightmarish images leads to a phone call foretelling the viewer's death in exactly seven days. maybe it sounds like urban legend or the plot of the hit film the ring but it's not. this is true. i am also immune to this video.
so far no dates have panned out from this screening process but it's not my fault marvin is super judgmental.
