Don’t call it online dating: call it send-me-sexy-pictures-of-yourself-even-though-I-never-plan-on-meeting-you-because-I’m-an-emotional-cripple-or-involved-with-someone-else-dating

Fun fact: even though I’ve experimented with online dating for years, I’ve never met anyone — from any site — in “real life.” Not a-once.

Sure, lots of digital talk about getting together. But the texts eventually petered out and the apathetic side of me was quietly relieved; she thought it was a real long shot anyway.

But I’ve also noticed a tendency that isn’t of my own making. Many men online aren’t really looking for a flesh-and-blood meeting but prefer to use you for a form of digital intimacy (oxymoron?) instead. This generally consists of flirty texting, procuring images of you and the inevitable cock shot.

Recently, I arranged a date with a handsome lad via Bumble. Since I’m currently visiting a kinda remote area, I was pleasantly surprised to find out he lived close by. With Bumble (as many know), the female is in charge of initiating contact. Which I did. After some back and forth, I suggested we get together. You know, like…in person.

Whoa wait a minute — that’s pretty serious. How about a few more photos of you instead?

He then sent me several photos of himself in bed. While I found him cute, I felt semi-annoyed by the subtext: now it’s your turn to send me photos in bed. Which I wasn’t prepared to do. Instead I sent him a simple shot of me, outdoors under a pretty tree.

I then suggested we meet up at a cafe near by. If he seemed sane and safe, maybe I’d invite him back to my place for a drink, watch the sunset or whatever.

How about you send some more photos first?

No, I don’t plan on sending you any more photos. There’s a ton on my profile. And I just sent you one. I’m asking you if you’d like to meet me in person so you can like, look at me in 3D all you want!

Silence.

I really don’t like women who are too camera shy, he responded.

I laughed out loud in line at the bank. Camera shy? As a consummate selfie taker, that’s hardly a good descriptor of me. But why bother explaining? Instead I wrote back:

I initiated our initial contact, started our conversation, sent you another photo of myself and invited you to see me in person…you’ve done nothing and now, you want a free photo to jerk off to or collect or judge or whatever. No thanks.

Part of me wanted to suggest a price he could pay for any additional shots of me. Which may sound preposterous but only as much as some stranger expecting that you digitally pleasure him.

There’s a man I dated online years ago who had a similar insatiable fetish. Send me pix. More, more. And I did. I didn’t realize at the time that an image of me is meaningful, a commodity.

In this era, images of ourselves may seem like a dime a dozen: until someone comes to expect them or even demand them. The act reflects a “gimme gimme” mindset — one that’s been appeased for too long and for entirely too little.

Don’t get me wrong: I genuinely enjoy taking sexy photos of myself. And I like sharing them with the right person or church congregation. But often, it can feel like an empty little act with a distinct undercurrent of “this is as good as it gets.”

Sure, that Bumble guy could have been involved with someone else, hence his hesitation to meet me in person. But I suspect, it runs deeper than that. This type of empty digital interaction is quite suited for someone with major intimacy issues as well.

If I hung in there long enough, undoubtedly a cock shot would have cum my way. (Will somebody get the memo out? Women generally don’t like random cock shots. We also don’t like pix of you in your dirty bathroom mirror or wearing a baseball cap…okay, the last one might be more me).

Another quick aside: I find it odd that many men on these dating sites will post images of themselves with another women — sometimes as the first shot you see. Is that you’re way of saying “Look at me! I’m straight and with women. You could be part of my throng, lucky girl”?

So no, online dating hasn’t worked for me. Yet I still swipe left or right on a bored and/or drunken evening. Maybe, like them, I have have no real intention and enjoy this distant dance. Maybe real life is simply too messy and pixel exchange is the only tidy way of interacting these days. But let’s face it: a cock shot only penetrates so deeply.