If you are to ask me anything about dating in the coming weeks I will inevitably start spouting quotes from Aziz Ansari’s Modern Romance. After finishing the book this weekend 90% of my sentences have started with “Well, Aziz would tell us,” or “In the middle of the book Aziz talks about,” or “If we’re going out tonight we’re getting Ramen, which is what Aziz eats in the Tokyo chapter of his book and I can’t stop thinking about his lil’ cheeks and infinite wisdom.”
Technology and dating fascinate me. As an avid user (and self proclaimed failure) of online dating apps I think a lot about what it means to navigate these new arenas. Online dating has all new rules and problems, and redefines success and failure when it comes to romance. Almost everyone I know has downloaded or used a dating app, but incessantly complain about online dating. Few of my friends have built relationships using these avenues and those who have made up an origin story so as to not admit to meeting their significant other online. The duality, the contradictions– it’s intense. I want to know how we can all live in this phone world that seems essential, but frustrates and confuses us so much. I picked up the book because I figured it could give me some insight into this world I already participate in, but hardly understand and OH BOY did I LEARN.
First and foremost what struck me about the book was this shift from access to people and opportunities in the last couple of decades. Older generations met significantly fewer people in their lifetime without the help of the internet. People married for stability, or to get out of their parents’ house. Marriage wasn’t an option for young people the way that it is today. This section of the book excited me. I wrote in the margins I am so lucky to remind myself that the entire world is now at my fingertips and having access to that means creating the big, vast, exciting life that I want. And then I kept reading, and the overwhelming, confusing, and frustrating parts of online dating set in.
Have you ever sat down at a restaurant and opened the menu to an endless amount of options from chicken fingers to herb-encrusted-lavender-infused-gorgonzola-stuffed-halibut risotto paste and thought I AM NOT CUT OUT FOR THIS? It takes me exactly 49 minutes to order at any given restaurant because I am indecisive, love food, and don’t understand 90% of food words. By the time the menu is put in front of me to the time the waiter comes to take my order I have changed my mind at least 11 times and usually blurt our something random all the while wondering if I would have better enjoyed another option. The point is, with so many options it is easy to get overwhelmed. I can only maintain two different online dating accounts, or I would spend 24 hours a day laying in my bed swiping through pics of dudes. I’ve chosen Bumble (for serious inquiries only) and Tinder (for the casual and sexy at heart.) Currently, my Tinder account houses 584 matches (#humblebrag) which is 583 people too many. There is no way I would ever be able to sift through that many people, but it goes to show how many options are out there. 584 is only the number of people I’ve mutually swiped right on, which means there are ten bazillion more waiting to be discovered by my right index finger.
Ansari touches on this phenomenon in his book. For most young singles, the options feel overwhelming. Even if you go on a date with someone you’re left wondering what other people are out there. Say you give your first date with someone a 7/10. Those are pretty good odds, but there has to be at least an 8/10 just a few profiles away. Keep swipin’. And that means we’re investing less time in each other. We’re making snap judgments on each other both when we swipe and when we meet. Swiping through profiles with limited pictures and bios that usually boil down to three or so emojis, means making some snappy decisions. Sometimes I swear my fingers decide before my brain can catch up. But this quick thinking (or not thinking at all) isn’t limited to using apps. We’re making snap judgments during dates when we should be investing more time and thought in each other. Because the options are now endless you can decide not to go on a second date with someone just based on the sweater he chose to wear, or how he holds his fork. Five minutes in if some guy suggests a beer I don’t like/ says he’s vegan/ disses J Biebs and I’m like BYE, ONTO THE NEXT ONE. I’ve been on a few handfuls of first dates in my time as a lady in waiting, but only two second dates, one with a person who became my boyfriend.
My big takeaway from the book was this question: if we just invest a little more in each other, how can we change or improve our own online dating experiences? Is my time better spent going on three dates with someone I think I could make a connection with rather than going on three dates with different suitors? Maybe this investment and remembering that there are real human beings on other end of your iMessage could help eliminate some of the major frustrations with online dating AKA STOP GHOSTING PEOPLE OUT, LIKE SHIT YOU GUYS. ( I will admit I’ve ghosted my fair share of dates, but it happened to me recently and DAMN I WILL NEVER DO THAT TO ANOTHER PERSON EVER AGAIN. At the very least make up some Peace Corps expedition you’re going on, idk.) Dating has never been cut and dry. Choosing another human to watch movies and hold hands and adventure through life with is inherently weird. And when it comes to the weird world of technology, even dating can’t escape. It’s important to remember that typing on the other end are two thumbs attached to a real human (or porn bot, or two index fingers attached to an 80 year old war criminal posing as a 20 something indie rock enthusiast.) We are still people with real people feelings, not just robots generating responses. But honestly, the day they invent customizable robot boyfriends will be my favorite day in the world of online dating.
schwarkattack 