After going out on that first limb and texting Mark, I
thought I could rest on my laurels for at least a few days and just ignore the
impending onset of Lent and everything that goes with that. Foolish mortal. Luckily
my friend who started this whole fiasco was hosting dinner before our
volleyball game last night, and the girls convinced (I think the technical term
for it is “peer pressured” but this sounds more grown-up) me to write a few
more messages to strange men.
I logged onto the online dating site and we all crowded
around my friend’s laptop to sift through the profiles of some of my best matches.
I didn’t realize that the profiles I’d been looking at thus far were mostly
random-generated or more likely chosen for unfathomable self-interested dating
site reasons. It turns out there is a place to go to find the people who have
compatible profiles to mine. This is where we went. To our credit, we didn’t
spend too much time making lewd comments (probably because we didn’t want to be
late for our games). The five of us crafted a few messages which made for some great
laughs and really expedited the entire process. Collaboration is more than just
an overused corporate flavour-of-the-week word. It would have taken me days of
agonizing to write those few simple lines. When I hit ‘send’ we actually
cheered. Girl friends are the best.
 |
| Squad Goals |
Between games we checked my phone. I don’t usually do
that, because most things can wait until after I am done playing volleyball. The
girls candidly informed me that this could not wait. The little red light on my
phone was having a conniption fit. I had received a text message from a
friend-of-a-friend who heard about the 40 Date Challenge and “thought it
sounded like a fun idea!” I blushed crimson and quickly set up a date with him - let's call him Dennis - for
next Thursday. Then, what the crowd was waiting for: of the three messages I’d
sent, two of the guys had written back. I couldn’t view the messages
immediately (Alec, my Blackberry is delicate about things like emails with
links to websites that he doesn’t trust), so we waited until after our second set of games before one of the girls handed me her smart(er) phone and I logged in and
read the replies. Out loud. There was squealing and hand clapping and to my
endless delight one of the girls actually shouted, “We’re going to be your
bridesmaids!” It may be the girliest thing I’ve ever been a part of (and I’ve
actually been a bridesmaid a few times) but it was lovely.
 |
A nudibrach.
Photo credit to Jerry Kirkhart
Other credit to Constantine for teaching me what one was. |
I’m quite excited (and nervous) about the guys that the
internet chose for me so far. Constantine is verbose, imaginative, and odd. His
username was an obscure term that I had to look up and means the joining
together of two independent principles into a strong conclusion. Deep. I think
he would be great to sit and visit with, which is the plan. Another guy’s
profile pic showed him in a kitchen, elbow deep stirring a massive pot which I assumed
contained spaghetti sauce (no idea why) and is now commonly referred to as
Spaghetti Guy. He seems like he would complement my strengths and be fun to be
goofy with. His ideal first date is sampling free food at Costco, which is
bizarre. The third one hasn’t replied, so I have forgotten that he exists. It’s
easier to overlook the minor things that I’d normally worry at when I write to
more than one guy at a time.
I haven’t heard back from Mark yet about setting up a
date, but I think the next time I text him it won’t be quite as arduous. I
hope.
 |
| Nicely done, Guy Incognito. |
Went for lunch with another friend who also made me sign
in on his smart(er) phone to read (again, aloud) the message that Constantine sent me this morning. My friend has also expressed a fervent interest in
tagging along and observing my date with Constantine. He offered to wear a fake
moustache or hide behind a newspaper to be more discreet. Classy.
Overall, I have decided that the worst thing about the dating
thing is the fact that we suffer through it alone. Not the dates themselves
(hopefully) but all of the stuff that leads up to them. I’m truly grateful that
I don’t have to. My friends will get me through, and make it a hell of a lot
funnier.
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