THE CIS MALE DILEMMA OF ONLINE DATING

Too tall. Swipe left. 

Too short. Swipe left. 

Too fat. Swipe left. 

Too skinny. Swipe left. 

Too much makeup. Swipe left.

Not enough makeup. Yikes! Was she sick? Swipe left. 

Too old. Swipe left.

Doug exhaled a long sigh as he swiped through Twinder, eating chips off of his beer belly. Swiping through Twinder had become a nightly ritual ever since his fiancé broke it off with him. She had inconveniently found out that he had slept with Emma, his best friend, the night of his bachelor party. Though he tried to explain to her that it meant nothing, that he was drunk, and that Emma was just there, he discovered she had blocked him on every possible communication platform. Even Spotify. 

Doug sighed again as he continued to swipe left on every girl he saw. No girl seemed to meet his low, easily-achieved standards yet. All he wanted was one between 5’2-5’5 (she couldn’t be taller than him), blonde (natural), blue eyes (the dark kind, not the kind that make a woman look possessed), young (shouldn’t have any visible signs of aging, but of course couldn’t be underage), and had to have all the same interests as him without any opinions of her own. Oh, and she had to be able to do all the housework and cook, because he still couldn’t do his own laundry or work the microwave. Even at his age. He didn’t think this girl would be too hard to find. Afterall, he wasn’t looking for perfection.

After hours of swiping left, Doug felt ready to give up, until the universe dealt him a sweet card. Just as he was about to turn off his phone and switch to his Xbox, a girl’s profile popped up and stayed his hand. Her username read @Object13. A little blue-eyed blondie smiled sweetly at him through his screen. He couldn’t help but smile back. Clicking on her profile, he prayed that her personality would be flawless too. It was blank. Perfect, he thought, and swiped right on her. A few minutes later, he received a notification from Twinder. They had matched!

He clicked into their chat. “Hey,” he typed, but soon deleted. Too simple. He needed something that would really get her attention, make her fall for him instantly. Clicking on Reddiot in search of pick-up lines, images of him and the girl’s future together started to flood his brain. Maybe she’d be the one. Maybe they’d get married. Maybe she was an angel sent from heaven as a gift from God himself after his fiancé had rudely left him. This was his karma, and how tasty it would be!

“What’s cooking, good looking?” He sent the message and waited for a response. Almost instantly, the girl responded.

“Hey. How are you?”

“I’m good. Better now that I’m talking to you.” He felt proud of himself for that one.

“Haha. What do you like?”

He starts to type out his hobbies as they come to mind.

Video games, drinking, snacking, and sleeping.

But then he starts to delete it. This isn’t what she wants to hear. This isn’t what women want. He starts to type out a carefully crafted list of his new hobbies. 

“I love listening to people talk, and I am a great listener. I appreciate literature and love how writers write words on pages of paper. I love sad romantic movies, even though they make me cry because I am sensitive and in touch with my feminine side. I also am a really great cook, so maybe I could make you some toast some time?”

In truth, he couldn’t care less about her hobbies. As long as he still scored. But he knew women and what they wanted, so he’d play along.

“Can I take you out sometime?” He crossed his fingers.

“Yes, I’d love to. How does tomorrow at noon sound?”

“Great. How does the beach sound? We can surf together.”

He sent the message, and for a moment, wondered: Was it too keen? Was it too risky to ask a woman to meet him somewhere in her bathing suit? But he didn't have to worry too long because the woman of his dreams wasn’t worried about it at all. 

“Beach sounds fun. I don’t know how to surf though.”

“It’s okay. You can just watch me. Bring a book or something.” He couldn’t wait to show off his talent.

“Sounds like a plan. See you then!”

This was it, he thought. He was going to meet his soulmate.

The next morning, he made sure to groom himself properly. He hopped into the shower and shampooed and washed his body separately instead of applying his usual 4-in-1. After brushing his teeth, he dug into his cabinets and pulled out dental floss, which he saved for special occasions. His gums started bleeding when he tried to floss, slightly staining his yellow, crooked teeth.

Moving to his closet, he planned out the perfect outfit in his head. He needed something that screamed ‘effortlessly desirable.’ Doug settled on a t-shirt and basketball shorts with his swim trunks underneath. While fixing his hair in the mirror, he stepped back to get a good look at himself. He looked perfect. After 25 long minutes, he was ready.

Doug arrived at a crowded beach at exactly noon, but he didn’t see his dream girl yet. He wasn’t worried though; this gave him time to set up his towel and apply sunscreen. After applying his precautions against the treacherous sun, he proceeded to stretch to warm his body up for surfing. Once his body was ready, he checked the time. 12:15. He started to get a little nervous, so he sent her a text. 

“Hey, almost here?”

She responded instantly.

“Yep! Just parking.”

He let out a sigh of relief and laid down on his beach towel to tan and people-watch as he awaited the arrival of his goddess.

His view settled upon a couple in front of him that read on separate beach towels. God, how pathetic, he thought. Poor guy. She’s not even talking to him! Maybe he should go over there and give him some advice, he thought. 

Just as he was about to go offer his unsolicited advice, he felt a pudgy hand grab his shoulder. Turning around, he found himself face to face with a man. The masculine figure in front of him had claw-like toenails on each crooked toe, short hairy legs, a barbeque-stained neon orange muscle tee with arm holes down to his ribs, and patches of hair cut out of his beard from a bad shave job. He cracked a smile and Doug could see his mustard colored teeth, which blended in with the dried up spit in the corners of his mouth. 

“Hi Doug. I’m Object13. Pleased to meet you!”