Category: Dates (page 5 of 10)

The difference between rappers or poets and people like you and me, is that these lyrical gangsters actually say something meaningful with their words. There’s a purpose behind the linguistic wizardry to back it up. All too often, I hear platitudes and mainstream lines. “It’s so hard to have meaningful conversations nowadays” Well said, Edwin, and what does meaningful mean to you? There’s usually a particular kind of silence after an innocent, curious follow-up question like that. It’s like when you jump into a pool and swim to the other side beneath the surface You’re in a different world, you’re free. It’s so peaceful and liberating down there. The only thing you hear is the sound of silence. While you swim in the 25 meter rectangular ocean as elegant and hydrodynamic as a mermaid, you feel the fat of your thighs vibrate with every whip kick you make. You feel the pressure building up in your lungs and wonder why all the shisha smoking hasn’t increased your lung capacity. You start to decrease your incredible speed in order not to bump your head into the swimming pool wall. You emerge like a submarine, breaking the boundaries between water and air. Nothing happened above the surface. Exactly. Nothing happened above the surface. But beneath the surface, you were suffocating a bit and your face looked stupid as you try blinking away all the water.

I get it that it’s difficult to answer these questions on the spot. You’re not expecting an inquiry into your opinion. You expect approval and head nodding. Maybe I’m biased but I assume that conversations about these platitudes are happening more often than conversations on let’s say, universal basic income or the up and downsides of nuclear energy. My take is that people just copy what’s out there. It’s like girls wearing a Jack Daniel’s t-shirt. They have no clue if Jack or Daniel is the first or last name. They don’t know it’s a drink but think it’s a dog breed, a mix between a Jack Russell and a Cocker Spaniel. If they are aware it’s a whiskey brand, they have never drank it. But they wear it because it’s cool and everyone else does it too. Why? “Because fuck you, it’s cool and I’m basic“

What bothers me is that these platitudes are holding us back from what we actually want. Universal truths are supposed to guide us but to where and for what purpose? We don’t really know. Is sleeping with each other on the first date really superficial? Is successfully going on a holiday together really a prerequisite or good proxy of moving in together? Does throwing a  16-pound bowling ball make you more alpha? Is waiting to text back x amount of time really going to increase the quality of the relationship between you two? Yeah, but, no, but, yeah, but, no, but. Exactly. What we need is nuance. When it comes to dating and relationships, few things are all black or all white. Sometimes even fifty shades of grey aren’t enough.

Look at it like this, mainstream lines are like Christmas sweaters. They are ugly, useless most of the time and shrink to nothing when you rinse and repeat.

I know you’re all dying to know how much we scored. I don’t remember anymore (it was six weeks ago) but we both scored at least a strike and none of us had more than 100.

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Nostradamus predicted 500 years ago that everyone at some point in his/her life would use an online dating app. I don’t know if that prediction is true but I can’t imagine a dating world anymore without dating apps. It seems however that there’s still some sort of stigma on using them. “I only use it when I’m bored or on the toilet” “I almost never swipe right” (girl version) “I just swipe right all the time” (boy version).

I have a love-hate relationship myself with these algorithm-based, dopamine-triggering pieces of code. As like many people, I wouldn’t say how these apps enriched my life and gave me the opportunity to connect with interesting people or people I would have never met in normal circumstances. But if someone is wearing Havaianas flip flops and Columbia zip off trousers carrying a Quechua backpack, thousands of miles away from his/her domicile, then suddenly he/she is all about meeting people and connecting and discovering and embracing the new and getting out of the comfort zone and and and. But online dating, ooh no thanks, so superficial.

I haven’t used it myself before but many apps now support voice and video calling. If these functionalities are good enough to connect with friends and family during a lockdown, then it’s good enough as well to have a chat with a potential mate. Hell, sales worth millions, job interviews for all levels and types of positions, and medical diagnosises are being concluded online now. We can’t blame the technology for everything. Then what else is to blame? Please tell me, dating social scientist, tell me the answer, I hear you cry in despair.

My dates have consistently told me that they check if the guy is married or not. Sometimes it’s blatantly on his profile. Every so often he casually mentions it halfway during the second date (true story). It seems extramarital stuff is a common thing here. While I agree that love between married people should be consumed within the boundaries of marriage, it’s the lies and false expectations that make online daters so jaded.

When I matched with the girl from this date, she told me it was her first time and match ever using a dating app. I thus got the huge responsibility to make her feel comfortable and enjoy her first online dating experience. Apparently, I have the ability to convert online dating virgins. Multiple girls showed me I was literally the only match on their phone (which is incredibly weird to me) or told me they never went on a date with someone from the online world before. Supposedly, they had a good feeling about my intentions. I guess even more after I sent the link to this blog (I only send it after we agree on when we’re meeting up). It’s hard to fake almost two years of writing. While my text game might be considered smooth, my willingness to type full sentences and use proper grammar might be more differentiating then saying things like “I’m an asian for any occasion” .

I often read in girls’ profiles something like “Dont match if ur not going to talk” . What does this mean? A real warning? A showcase of orthograpic abilities? Or maybe a howl of agony? If females of above-average beauty find it important enough to write that instead of  “Love yoga, travel wanderlust (69 passport stamps), foodie, always keep smiling, not here for hookups” . Then maybe we’re onto something. It’s called rejection. The majority of females online, except the really ugly ones, have to a certain degree unlimited options. Virtually every right swipe is a match but it seems the matches don’t translate in great conversations or things. On dating apps it’s so easy to ghost someone. There’s no closure. “Did I say something wrong?” “Am I not interesting enough?” “Am I not hot/cool enough?” “Did I came across as too eager?” All these questions remain unanswered. For both guys and girls, the lack of response is devastating. Nobody likes to get rejected, especially not a regular basis. How many people understand the mechanics of the online dating game and are willing to play it AND actually win it? It’s easy to become bitter and frustrated if you don’t.

Despite these challenges, I still believe online dating is a very effective way to meet your future love(r). I’m not the only one. The activity of millions of matches and messages on dating apps don’t lie, nor do the dating apps grouped together on the utmost right home screen page of your single friends’ smartphone.

I know you’re all dying to know where the food party was. Well, we went to a Korean place and had Korean BBQ, sizzling table grill included. Great stuff, all diet rules were broken.

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Do you believe in faith? Do you feel some things are meant to be? Is there something above and beyond us, us mortal humans and sexy beasts? We all have been blown away at a certain point in time in our lives by some event that defied all the odds and all logic. A life episode that would make people type “Omg, I can’t believe what just happened” in a WhatsApp group chat. Please allow me to give two eye-popping examples of my own:

1. I was unemployed and the sun was shining bright. I didn’t dream nor aspire to be a window cleaner but I decided to take on a temporary, unpaid gig to clean the windows of my apartment. That day I learnt that to get crystal-clear windows, rubbing the window glass with a soapy sponge is more effective than two years of intermittent showers of rain. I could see things so clearly on the other side now, what a difference it made. After improving the quality of my life with 0,069 percentage points, I closed the windows and the curtains dropped. The next day, I woke up around brunch time. Ready for another day of pretending to be productive. I expected to see my habitual suburban view but instead I was mockingly greeted by large splashes and chunks of pigeon diarrhea on my not-so-clean anymore windows and window sill. So let me recap: for the past two years, I only occasionally heard pigeons tap dance on the roof. Nothing else happened (I got this line from some guy who cheats on and beats his wife). So, the day after I cleaned my windows for the first time, suddenly my windows became a public toilet for pigeons. What kind of sorcery is this? Is this called bad karma? What is the universe trying to tell me?
2. I was employed and the sun was still shining bright. I was looking for a new apartment and went hunting. I identified an area and also a particular building. I visited a couple of units, encountered some cockroaches and douchebag owners but managed to find a place that met all my criteria. BOOM, contract signed. Guess what the apartment number is… 609. 6-0-9. The magic numbers 6 and 9. So let me recap: the building that I preferred to stay in has 400+ apartments and it happens that unit 609 is available and matches my needs perfectly. That’s just plain ridiculous. There must be something more going on, right? Btw, I notice pigeon bastards are hanging out near my balcony.

Amor fati. Love of fate. Whether you understand or not why something has happened, it doesn’t really matter to be honest. It has happened and just go with it. People break their heads (and hearts) over why something didn’t work out with a loved one, why he/she said xyz or why every interesting person is taken already. The answer is an answer but doesn’t tell you anything. You’ll never be sure. Sometimes it better to half jokingly-half seriously say that it’s not meant to be. Definitely I have some stoic tendencies to ingloriously accept the situation as it is. Maybe it’s an ego thing to not to have to chase girls, put all the work in or to not being reciprocated after all my efforts.

The girl told me she has been out of the dating game for two years. I get her sentiment when she told me she’s content with her life. She doesn’t need anyone to feel fulfilled or provide. Something I heard many times before. But isn’t there a basic human need for companionship? Okay, this can come in many forms but can friendships or (stuffed) animals really replace “that”? What I also often hear is that what will come, will come. Then months and years fly by and nothing came besides wrinkles, back pain and iPhone 16 Pro Max Ultra+. I think there are many people accepting their fate as surface-happy dissatisfied single or partner and secretly knowing that with some work and sometimes force, things could change for the better.

Do I believe we’re destined for something? That there’s a plan ready for us? Not entirely sure. While we might not control our fate or future companion(ships), we have the choice to accept or reject the situation we’re in, and ultimately do something about it.

I know you’re all dying to know how many bars we hopped. Well, the counter clocked at three. We drink quite a few beverages with hops (badum-tss).  I’d like to take a moment to express my gratitude to the person who invented the hoppy hour (badum-tss-tss).

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I have a love-hate relationship with small talk questions. There’s a general consensus among me, myself and I that a certain amount of pleasantries needs to be exchanged before the talks-that-matter emerge. Curiosity remains a great tool to learn more about someone else. Next to googling his/her name but the stalkers among you already know this. Asking a small talk question is like popping a party cracker or baking something with cheese in the oven. It’s easy to do but the clean-up is a bitch. A one-time occasion is bearable but imagine if you had a whole room of full of glitter and confetti, or a tower of dirty oven dishes stacked up in the kitchen sink. Then it starts to get pretty annoying. I get more triggered from answering the same questions over and over again than from chugging a liter of protein shake (I’m lactose intolerant).

Unsuprisingly, I tried several ways to deal with these mini-frustrations. I figured that either, I could make sure better questions get asked or I could give better answers. When you encounter a shitty question, you can gently imply it’s a boring question and you’re used to having more substantial conversations. It’s a hard refusal. Some people can get away with this. I can’t, people just think I’m rude then. A soft refusal is when your answer is ridiculous. “Where do you live?” “On earth”. I think it’s a good way to deal with recurring questions. You can entertain yourself and at the same time gauge the reaction of your conversation partner. But if you do this too much, you give the impression you’re hiding something and/or can’t be taken seriously. Another way is to take control of the situation and ask questions yourself. “What do you do?” “I’m a nurse. So, tell me about the harsh truths you choose to ignore but know you shouldn’t”. There are of course less in-your-face options but the result would be the same. It creates a different dynamic and cuts right to the core. No chit-chat, real-talk only. Not all people can handle this though, including myself. I prefer to talk about COVID-19 and the weather.

I also tried giving very complete answers, almost executive summaries of parts of my life. You’d expect that the conversation would fan out in different, unexpected ways as there are many anchor points but more times than I expected, it resulted in just a “Aah, okay, cool” or “My stomach hurts, probably from the protein shake”. The basis fact is that people aren’t really that interested in the answers anyway. For me these “Where are you from”s are a matter of politeness now. Just breath in, smile, answer how many siblings you have and get it over with. Then keep the conversation flowing with your own conversational magic bullets.

There are instances where I had a really good and lengthy conversation with someone without knowing their name, occupation or mother’s maiden name afterwards. I forget most of the basic information anyway. If  I get a test on what we talked about during the date, I’m pretty sure I’d fail it (unless it would be multiple choice). Not because the date was uninteresting or I was constantly thinking about non-whey protein shakes. No, just because a lot actually doesn’t really matter much, in my entitled opinion. I don’t know her favourite movie but I do know her current struggles and future aspirations. I can’t recall if she’s a dog or cat person but I can remember how she feels about her work and boss. I also recollect that she has excellent taste in men. 

I know you’re all dying to know what we had for lunch. Well, we ate momos, Nepalese dumplings. It was okay, I prefer Chinese dumplings.

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I’m pretty sure most of you have been attending catch-up calls with friends, family or colleagues during the 2020 lockdown. First, there’s an update on how the situation has evolved and impacted us personally: “I heard flushing your nostrils with mint tea is killing virus particles”, “Today I went running and I saw a baby wearing a N95 mask. I feel relieved that many in my neighbourhood are following the rules quite well”. Followed by some reminiscing about the past or past plans: “We had to cancel our yearly bike trip reunion. Yeah, so sad”. Then it’s fun and games: quiz, pictionary, board game, drink-the-bottle, chitchat etc. Such recurring meetings eventually ended up in reporting how wet the water was and in which direction the wind was blowing. For your information, usually the water was very wet and the wind often came from a southwestern direction.

There’s nothing wrong with these catch-ups. I can imagine that in some cases it was helpful, even essential to deal with tough circumstances. It’s lacking some humanity though. Most people agree no medium can replace a face-to-face gathering. Trainings and conferences are being held online now. What was the most valuable to me were the questions and the interaction during the sessions, and the stories and insights with other participants during the breaks. Knowledge and information can get shared online but can we say that the attendees felt the vibe and energy, and went back “home” invigorated with a hell yeah-feeling from a virtual meeting? I highly doubt it. Being digital is not the same as being a social.  

I hear about success stories of people making friendships online. Definitely possible, not going to argue with that. I’m wondering if these people interchangeably use meaningful with emotionally available. Experiencing something together, even if it’s just sitting at the beach doing nothing, is more powerful for me than having a long yet deep conversation on the phone or computer. I guess I value a shared reality more than shared information. We can’t confuse availability with frequency. A pair sending 96 messages per day doesn’t mean they have a  stronger bond than two people exchanging 69 messages. The amount of notifications popping up or letters/emojis/pictures transferred is not an indication of the quality of a relationship. It’s merely an illusion.

Fluid chatting, endless banter and deep talks look like a recipe for success. My date told me she once went on a date where it clicked online but when they met in real life, the conversation was as smooth as sandpaper. It’s easy to create an impression from behind your screen. You have the time to (over)think, to curate the perfect answer, to mislead the other with an inflated image of your personality. There are of course exceptions. Yours truly is undoubtedly more impressive in real life than on paper. Words simply cannot convey the awesomeness, the intellect, the purity. Many have tried, including myself, but all have failed. 

Texting for me is okay to keep in touch but I find it too limiting to really build a meaningful connection. It’s too easy. Just dump some lines and information et voilà, crazy in love. Texting in a dating context has become a modern passtime for notification-addicted people. If being busy is a badge of honour for your social life than texting is one for your dating life. It looks cool, feels good and gives you the impression you’re getting somewhere. Then over time you realise it has been a lot of doing without much impact. It’s a trap. There’s a Chinese proverb that sums it all up very well: “A single date with a cute man/woman is worth a month’s texting”.

I know you’re all dying to know how intense and romantic the sunset was. Well, we missed the actual sunset (civil twilight) in the five-minute window we were walking around to find a better spot. But we did witness the nautical and astronomical twilight. Perfect setting for captivating talks.

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