Welcome to the dark side of online dating

Before I get started with this week’s column, let me first say thank you to all the wonderful readers who sent letters and emails of support regarding my recent split with the Former Lovely Mrs. Taylor. Her leaving was the toughest thing I’ve had to face in this life, and your words of encouragement have been a much-needed blessing in a most difficult time. Thank you all so much.

Also, as much as I appreciate the Xanax, I’m pretty sure it was illegal to send me prescription drugs through the mail and I’m nervous about taking stuff like that even when my doctor recommends it. But I do appreciate the thought.

And finally, to “Ms. R.,” I have taken your marriage proposal under advisement and will be getting back to you once the results of the criminal background check are in. (I’m not saying the answer is no, either way, I just want to know what I’m letting myself in for.)

That said, all your comments truly have been a huge comfort to me. Advance readers rule!

At any rate, I told you last week I had begun dating again, or trying to, via an online dating service. I also promised I would share the results of my first few dates.

This is proving easier said than done, in large part because I was expecting most of the aforementioned dates to be unmitigated disasters, and this just hasn’t been the case. The worst thing I can say about any of them is that – with one notable exception – the girls looked absolutely nothing like the photos posted with their profiles.

For you happily married folks with no idea what a “profile” is, it’s the description you give yourself on an online dating site, the narrative that’s supposed to accurately reflect your hopes, dreams, desires and innermost personality. Of course, none of them do, as becomes all too obvious when you actually meet your date in person.

The girl who told me she had recently been through an “amicable divorce” spent the entire two hours it took us to get through dinner telling me what a louse her ex was. In detail. Excruciating detail. By the time I made my escape, I felt I would be justified in sending my date a bill for psychiatric services. I mean, all I did was nod and say “Uh-huh,” and “Really?” for 120 minutes, but that’s all most shrinks do, right? And they get big money for that.

All I got for my counseling services was a $67 tab for dinner and drinks.

Which brings me to another downside of dating; it costs money and lots of it. I don’t have lots of money. I can’t afford to impress girls with my financial wonderfulness. If I keep this up much longer, my future dates had better look young enough to order from the kiddy menu at a drive-through. (Which they all do, in their profile photos, at least. Real life is another matter. You can’t Photoshop reality.)

But I’m only giving you the downside here, folks, and in truth, a couple of the ladies I’ve gone out with in the past few weeks have been very nice, though nothing has really “clicked” for me. Dating, I’m discovering, can be fun, exhilarating, depressing, frustrating and out-and-out maddening.

Just like marriage.

Maybe I’ll give that Xanax a try after all.

 

Missed a week? More “Reality Check” online at http://mtrealitycheck.blogspot.com or www.milive.com. E-mail Mike Taylor at mtaylor325@gmail.com.