This is probably one of the many thousand of articles about the corona virus you’ve subjected you’re poor browser and brain to… your internet history is probably days away from face masks being advertised on your smart ads. But is it the first article you’ve bumped into about dating during an epidemic like the corona virus… no.. well thanks for sticking around anyway.

I lean back, pushing my shoulders against an office chair in an attempt to absorb any comfort it can muster. My arms swing behind my head and my eyes stare at the ceiling, convinced that there is naught to do but wait as my computer crawls through multiple lines of codes. A common morning.

At the corner of my eye I catch that slight endorphin releasing glint from my phone. We all know it in some shape or form. …

About 18ish years ago a group of kids, myself included were given quite a descriptive demonstration of the effects of dating and sex on an unprepared soul.

Our educator got two pieces of white paper (not very inclusive) and began to smear a white gluey substance on one of the sheets. He then began to rub the two sheets together, which I suppose is fitting considering the context.

After a short synopsis of the dangers of premarital sex he attempted to pull the two sheets apart, which obviously caused one sheet to rip convincingly on its side. …

We are different people when in cyberspace and dating apps. It’s a Saturday evening, you’ve been talking to this new match you met on a date recently. You’re keen but know not to get too excited because… you know dating. But the signs are positive, they’ve asked to see you again, today in fact.

So you clear your schedule, figure out what you’re going to cover your birthday suit with and ponder around the house waiting for confirmation, pushing down any ideas of what could be… because you know, dating.

I’ve always told myself and other people that I want to ask out a stranger more often. Not randomly and sporadically of course, it’s not like I want to treat every woman on my morning train like They’re on a yo-sushi conveyor belt. Plucking out the tasty colourful ones.

Sometimes I hear through the whispers of my female friends and the nonsensical chants of social media that some women just want a natural encounter rather than a digital profile to swipe and an onslaught of text messages.

My response to this is usually agreement with a touch of personal truth…

It’s July 2019 and I’m almost unable to recite exactly how many dates I’ve been on since this started. Of course, there are some individuals that will forever be welded to the memory corners of my brain, but the majority have become one big clump of experience.

Almost like one big date with a multi-headed creature that resembles all the women I’ve dated that I don’t remember too well. I’ll call this creature Simone, Simone the hydra.

Speaking of notable individuals, there was one particular character that changed how I looked at dating for good; I can firmly say it…

So should we dress up for a first date? Thanks to Eve’s ethos of “food is life” and Adam’s FOMO we are the only species on earth that get red faced about our bits flailing about.

And thanks to the evolution of human society, there are many different and unique ways to keep our bits from flailing about, or at least let them flail how we please.

It’s somewhat amazing that something as simple as how low cut your top is, how tight your jeans are and if you own Apple ear pods can scream an opinion or disposition to…

Everyone gets anxious about something, some more than others and about almost anything you can think of. Their weight, their jobs, their face, their knees, their height, if anyone heard that fart that squeaked it’s way out and so on. Then it hit me, like a runaway car full of epiphany, a lot more people seem to suffer from anxiety than I realised.

I’ve been in a few (like 3) serious relationships in my life and each one has taught me something about myself, the opposite gender and in this case how anxiety is more common than runny poached eggs…