“I drove all night to get to you. Is that all right? I drove all night, crept in your room. Woke you up from your sleep to make love to you. Is that all right? I drove all night.” ~Roy Orbison, I Drove All Night
It’s been exactly two years since I told my ex I wanted a divorce. The other way of saying that is I’ve been single for two years. Primarily by choice. For a while it was a necessity and now…well, it’s rough out there. Navigating the single/dating world for me has been equivalent to when you’re driving and take the wrong turn at the roundabout because you were so sure you had it right while your GPS lady incessantly repeats…RECALCULATING! RECALCULATING! Then you freak out because you’re just driving in circles shouting, “Just tell me where the fuck to go!” It’s been a lot like that.
I have been doing some reflecting on my own “date” experiences and stories from my single friends. Do you know what the stories never start with? “He picked me up around…” No one is picking anyone up anymore. It got me wondering why. Is it because I live in a big city, not everyone needs therefore doesn’t have a car, so you just figure out your own way? Did guys forget that’s a thing? OR, is it because of online dating? I decided that’s the reason. I’m also peppering in Dateline and other couple crime shows (I’m looking at you ID Channel) scaring the crap out of it’s demographic (me). I don’t want strangers knowing where I live.
Has online dating single-handedly ruined one of the best first date moments? It makes sense. We really don’t know who is on the other side of the computer screen so best to not give them your address. I sure as hell don’t want a copycat Craigslist killer knocking on my door. BUT, man. I feel like we’re getting screwed. The minutes leading up to pick up time were so exciting and nauseating! It was the worst but also the best! Now we have to show up somewhere and look around until you see them? Or, in my case watch THEM walk in because I’m always early. Lame. This is so lame. These are things I didn’t think about when I became single never getting to experience again. I mean…I’m sure if I ever get involved with someone other than casual hanging, we’ll get to that point. It just won’t be the same. He’ll know me, I’ll know him. I won’t feel like puking, and he won’t be sweating. He won’t nervously mess up opening the car door car, and I won’t do a quick check in the side mirror while he is walking around to make sure I don’t have any boogers in my nose or lipstick on my teeth. I kind of hate this!
The last time I got picked up for a first date was my ex, and that was in 2004! This is bullshit, and I really don’t want this to be the last time I can tell that story to my dog children. Perhaps I’m showing my age here, but this realization has made me so sad. It’s like that old saying…that I don’t know, but the sentiment is if I knew it were the last time, I would have cherished it more. Oh times…stop changing so much, please.