Click. Click. Rome. Click. London. Click. Somerville. Click. Open in a New Window. Click. New York. Click. Click. Click. Milan. Click. Perth. Click. San Francisco. Click. Open in a New Window. Click. Click. Click. Click.
The faces blur into one word: No. They blur into an action: Click.
They blur into forgotten memory like many paintings seen only once. I try to assign human names to HotRod4U or CumCMe or BigTits2Day or DownNDirty or MuyCaliente or some similar thing in Italian.
I try to use my long dual-language profile to screen out unnecessary messages and sexmails, and even end it on a quasi-diatribe on exoticism. It’s been working. Sort of.
Click. Block. Hey. Block. Wassup? Block. Got Chocolate? Block. U Busy L8r? Block. Le donne nere… Block.
I’m blocking out the words that counter my usually empathetic mind as I scroll and click pass over a thousand men with their barely-covered genitalia on display. It’s not working.
I read Mark Manson and try to understand the male psyche. I decide it must suck balls to be male, even if they supposedly have everything. There’s not much they can do to express themselves. Men are should-burdened into thinking themselves to be robots, or worst still, sex machines.
Or worst still, pathetic.
It’s shocking what the internet unmasks about society: apparently, a bunch of sex-crazed, racist, narcissistic…wait, I just got a message. It’s amazing how excited you can become when someone treats you like a human being.
Click. Profile. Click. The Two of Us. Click. Unacceptable Answers. Scroll.
- “I strongly prefer to date people within my race.”
- Glance up at the European-ancestors-face. Scroll.
- “Women are obligated to shave their legs.” Scroll.
- “I don’t mind racist jokes.” Scroll.
- “I don’t like tattoos on women.” Click. Block.
I’m not shocked. It’s just another day in online dating, about which I have come to understand a couple of things.
- Some men, particularly in Italy,
- like to wear Speedos.
- and take pictures spread-eagled.
- Some women, particularly in the US,
- like to wear lingerie,
- and take pictures of their breasts.
- Some people don’t have faces.
- Some people use other people’s faces.
- Some people don’t live where they say.
- Some people are sad to say where they live.
- Some people are just people who are too busy.
- Some people are people who just want to get busy.
Until Next Time,