Dating Is Hard
Dating is hard. Not only in San Francisco (although I love blaming the gays for outnumbering the straights), but everywhere. Recently, while only slightly tipsy at a Dolores Park BBQ, I lamented of my singledom to a pretty redhead who is living in Brooklyn.
Me: Dating is hard.
Her: Yeah. I know.
Me: But at least you live in New York, where you can meet guys with enough hutspah to ask you out.
Her: Just because they all want to sleep with you on the east coast doesn't make dating any less hard.
Me: Yeah. Actually, that might make it even harder...
Both: Dating is hard.
So, I decided to (try to) take fate into my own hands. I joined a dating site where friends have had success, and it is definitely not called 'Por que, Stupid?' So far, no one I've been interested in has messaged me, and I don't know why. I worked so hard on my profile.
It asked me to give a self-summary, and I was totally honest:
Here's a basic day in my life:
I wake up at the first inkling of daylight because God doesn't let the sun rise until I'm ready. He's learned his lesson. Then I generally eat a healthy breakfast of egg whites and spinach before taking a 2 minute shower while blasting 'This American Life' over the sound of the crying baby next door.
After I am clean and fresh, I flash a smile at said baby and it never cries again. My good looks often have this effect on people. Then I walk to BART, which takes me right near The Armory, which means I regularly try to guess which pedestrians are porn stars.
Waiting for the train, I save a puppy that was caught in the tracks and give it to a blind person because it is generally a seeing eye puppy. Although once it was a seeing eye pony. That was an especially good day.
After that, I do the NYT crossword with a Sharpie while blindfolding myself, get off at Cal and soak up the infinite knowledge available there. I'll also volunteer for awhile, build a home for a family in need and eat a vegetarian salad before heading back to SF for the night. And that's when the fun really starts...
I wake up at the first inkling of daylight because God doesn't let the sun rise until I'm ready. He's learned his lesson. Then I generally eat a healthy breakfast of egg whites and spinach before taking a 2 minute shower while blasting 'This American Life' over the sound of the crying baby next door.
After I am clean and fresh, I flash a smile at said baby and it never cries again. My good looks often have this effect on people. Then I walk to BART, which takes me right near The Armory, which means I regularly try to guess which pedestrians are porn stars.
Waiting for the train, I save a puppy that was caught in the tracks and give it to a blind person because it is generally a seeing eye puppy. Although once it was a seeing eye pony. That was an especially good day.
After that, I do the NYT crossword with a Sharpie while blindfolding myself, get off at Cal and soak up the infinite knowledge available there. I'll also volunteer for awhile, build a home for a family in need and eat a vegetarian salad before heading back to SF for the night. And that's when the fun really starts...
And it might be hard to believe, but there have been no takers. Jerks.
Labels: dating, San Francisco
posted by Melanie Kameko at
4:02 PM
1 Comments:
look, i'm leaving your comments instead of being a creepy lurker!
also, i still don't know how to use the internet! YAY!!!
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