Sometimes I wonder if I should even be on a dating site. The best part about being in one, though? Updating my profile so that perfect strangers could read about how much I hate flowers and how I worship Adam Lambert.
I could have never imagined there were so many people seeking their “The One”s and soul mates out there. It’s like a bloody fish market, really.
I can fairly say I’m doing “well” on this site, judging from the fact that I always have a message or two waiting to be read when I come home. There’s always a bunch of people who have stalked my profile but were too lazy or too uninterested to message me. Occasionally, there’s always a mail or two. Occasionally, I’m at loss for words.
Like, this guy who mailed me the other day. Unlike a normal conversation that starts with hello, he gave me a long short biography of himself: how he lived alone in a big apartment, with a nice job and a nice car, how he loved during laundry, how he couldn’t wait to meet his soul mate. I thought he was perfect. I have always dreamed of being loved by a Swede who loves doing my laundry. I would have said yes to his proposal had he not been ten years older than my dad.
Another guy mailed me, proclaiming his love for me since my eyes are so beeeyoittfulll and urging me to have a hot, passionate meeting on Skype with him. I assume it is completely acceptable on dating sites to proclaim your love for someone you have never had an actual conversation with before.
These men are the definition of confidence. They will not tell you, but they command you to answer them for they are your true-est, best-est match. Is there anything more romantic than being ambushed into relationship? My favourite of the week: A middle aged guy, who is temporarily unemployed (euphemism for permanently unemployed) who had the balls to misspell my name and then messaged me: “Zarrem I think we should definitely have some babies.”
Sometimes I go and look at all the people who have viewed me. Surprisingly, I’m only appealing to all the weird men who are live alone at home and are older than my grandfather.
Guess I’m an old soul after all.