Why is it that in the space of 10 years we have gone from picking up guys in bars to receiving cybersex requests from Indonesia? Where did the ‘Spark’ go? I have vivid, fond memories of the spark. That feeling you get when you see someone in a public place, you attempt a seductive yet nonchalant sashay over too them and immediately begin to imagine how they would look wearing your duvet after having little more than an introduction. Now we have an impulse, nay, an irresistible urge to go straight to Facebook and check out the friends list, what pages they have ‘liked’ and dissect everything about them before even meeting and that’s the just the PG version of events.
I have a friend who is currently in a relationship after using this new method. She decided after seeing a potential mate (keeping in mind this is on assumptions, nothing more) that she would hunt him down via social networks, read up on his life. Then the true fun begins when trying to figure out a way to meet them. To me this is absurd, yet it is vast becoming a popular way for couples to begin their new age relationship.
As a 26 year old woman in the 21st century, I am finding that there are more ways than ever to meet men. We have their personal information at our fingertips, their likes, their dislikes and their life stories in self-taken photographs. There is just one minor detail that we choose to ignore, even after slowly analysing everything about these men – honesty. Take a look at your Facebook page, Twitter account or MSN details – can you say whole heartedly that you have been 100% honest? Yet we expect men to be. What are we doing to ourselves? You should know that my Facebook page is completely honest, all of the information is facts – barring my name, the way I make my life look and the fact that I manage to look fantastic in all of my photos as I have gone through them with a fine toothed comb. We spend so much time trying to be everything to everyone that we lose ourselves, all thanks to the great mind of Mark Zuckerburg. Ok, maybe I am pointing a direct finger at a minute source of the larger issue yet I still believe that if we continue to strive to make things simpler by using technology that we will end up with zero human contact and a life filled with robots and, well, cybersex. On a positive note, there would be less accidental pregnancies and STD’s in the world. A negative, the amount of masturbation related injuries that would be incurred.
I’ve been subjected to the world of internet dating a few times, I say subjected as I hate to admit that I willingly signed myself up and made entire profiles about a person I knew nothing about. The hours wasted trawling through other embezzled lives on my computer screen, answering countless questionnaires regarding all of the qualities a man should have to make me a happier person. The first night of chatting to complete strangers, that in all honesty could quite possibly have been my Grandpa having a fun night in, was somewhat liberating. I felt like I should have Lynyrd Skynyrd Free Bird playing softly in the background whilst my confident and somewhat arrogant fingers ran across the keyboard for hours. Men were messaging me one after another until the early hours of the morning. Six cans of Redbull and twenty cigarettes later I called it a night, able to go to sleep with the knowledge that men wanted me. It was unthinkable that all of these men were interested in me, albeit maybe it was that I knew I wasn’t the girl in the picture. I was a fag hag, clinging to a can of redbull with a slight smearing of melted cheese across my mouse pad. No make-up in sight and my hair was being held up with some form of elastic material I had found on the bathroom floor earlier. Did I care? No. Cloud 9 was my bed for that night.
The morning came; I bounced off my cloud like a spring lamb ready for my morning fix of caffeine, nicotine and my eager fans. You can imagine the blow when there were no messages, no flattering notes left, no roses sent to my page. They had figured me out; they knew I was a fraud. How did they find out? I realised eventually that the website I had decided to join was in fact a cyber pimp, assisting men in getting laid. I signed off and never returned.
I lied, I returned one more time with my friend as my wingman. This time I was prepared to be honest so that I truly had a chance to find the man of my dreams. All questionnaires were answered after great thought; my opening statement was witty as well as sweet. Everything was done in the correct way; I know this as there are plenty of websites available to help you with these pressing times in your life. A few messages came through, mainly pornographic photos that I did view. I was brought up to be polite and give everyone a chance, I’m also exceedingly intrigued as a person so I couldn’t help myself. It was an eye opener to say the least and I lasted less than 24 hours.
And so came the end of my internet dating saga. I treated myself to four cream cakes after deleting the account, I deserved it.