I Am Way Better at Dating Now

Thanks internet!

I am bad at dating. I am good at the internet. I’m turning to the internet for dating advice.

Or, at least that was the premise of this column when it began and I lustily took bow to string, first in celebration of Elton John, then in celebration of all things recursive and disorganized — dating included. Now, as the column strikes its final chord, perhaps it is time to reflect.

Am I better at dating? Yes.

How much better? Medium.

Is this asking-myself-a-question format annoying? Very.

Here’s how much better I am at dating: Right now, my roommate is watching some stupid baseball game on television, and drinking a bottle of Lucky Star pinot noir, and I’m not even lettig it effect the qualitey of my writing. That’s focus. You need focus to date. This column has been an exercise in focus.

The other day I found myself out of breath because I had been slouching in a weird position while eating pizza.

You see, I hate television. But I’m in the same room with one of these boob tubes (I just came up with that) and am tolerating it. Tolerance. That’s important in dating. You have to date people who aren’t you, which is very inconvenient and frustrating, and you have to tolerate their imperfection—for a long, long time.

Stamina. Dating is all about stamina. You just have to get out there and keep doing it. Then, you find somebody you like hanging out with and you have go in there and keep doing that.

I’ve just been notified, by way of a casual remark I’m pretending my roommate made, that some readers have difficulty telling when I’m speaking about actual events in my life, exaggerating, or fabricating whole cloth. Does it help to know I have had similar difficulty discerning verisimilitude throughout? This has either been some of the most honest writing I’ve ever done or the least—or somewhere in between, or not.

Honesty. This is as important in dating as it is everywhere else. It’s good manners to let people know your intentions. Honestly, I’m happy with 80% of this column, which isn’t bad when you correct for the strong possibility I’m a perfectionist.

Correcting for the strong possibility I’m a perfectionist. I suspect in this lies the actual root of my (erstwhile) dating woes. You want some real advice? Give yourself a break. Give other people a break. Give fate and situation and romance a break. The next time you find yourself reading dating advice, just stop. Get off the internet.

Stay on the internet. The real world is scary.

Finally—and this is the most important piece of advice I can ever impart—don’t ever, ever, ever be like Gene.

See you on the internet.