{"id":3998,"date":"2024-07-17T20:58:27","date_gmt":"2024-07-17T20:58:27","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/?p=3998"},"modified":"2024-07-17T21:51:44","modified_gmt":"2024-07-17T21:51:44","slug":"were-all-dating-in-the-dark","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/?p=3998","title":{"rendered":"We’re All Dating In The Dark"},"content":{"rendered":"\n

I wrote this piece for the second section of my Critical Writing course. In it, we read pieces that crossed and played with genre conventions. We also read an essay on<\/sub> “the weak novel<\/sub><\/a>“, which pushed against our traditional (typically western) idea of what makes a “good” novel. Our assignment was to write something that bucked tradition, whether it was genre-bending, for example or, what I chose which was tapping into modern review culture by writing something nontraditional. I took inspiration from Kevin Killian’s entertaining <\/sub>reviews<\/sub><\/a> on everything. Not just books and music but also seemingly random things like baby food. <\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I chose to write a series of reviews on my dating life. In it, I try to also weave bits of detail about my life so that you can start to build a narrative about me. It, along with <\/sub>I’m Not Your Inspiration Porn<\/sub><\/a>, also serves as a bit of an explanation of where I’ve been the last few years.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Scale:<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

A = perfection<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

B = holy shit, we’ve gotten to a point where I actually like you<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

C = potential<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

D = not the worst\u2026<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

F = why?<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Dominoes<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

It was the summer of 2016. I was home for only a weekend, a bit of downtime between visiting my godmother in Atlanta and taking my first international trip to Montenegro. We hadn’t been talking long and I felt like we should see each other in that space, because who knew if we could maintain conversation another two weeks while I was out of the country.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

It would be my first app-initiated date. I was a little nervous, but I’d read the articles on Bustle and Cosmo: I was sharing my location with a few friends and, since it was meant to be super casual, I asked if he wouldn’t mind if I brought a friend along. He didn’t.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Thank God.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Date day dawned bright, muggy and with delays on the train lines I needed. In other words, a typical weekend in NYC. And, despite my friend and I being late\u2014because he changed our plans last minute from boba and maybe food to a Jamaican independence celebration in a park on the lower east side\u2014and an awkward hug\/wave greeting where I discovered that the guy who was supposed to be my height was actually shorter than me, I remained hopeful.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

After entering the park and paying the entrance fee, we meandered over to the food. Finding something that interested him, he decided to take his plate over to a dominoes game we’d passed earlier. We could join him later once we’d found something we liked.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

At the table, I tried to make conversation. But he needed to concentrate on the game. And, anyway, how could we not be into dominoes? It reminded him of childhood summers in the Caribbean.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even when my friend very unsubtly left to go do something\u2014<\/sub>anything\u2014<\/sub><\/em>else, he just looked for new opponents when the game ended, only halfheartedly responding to my equally halfhearted attempts at conversation.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

After more hours than I care to admit, I decided to take my leave which\u2026 surprised him? Graciously, he offered to walk us back to the train, where we awkwardly half hugged. My friend was already through the turnstiles by the time he’d turned to her.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I don’t think she liked me,” he observed later on the phone. She didn’t. For a number of reasons, including the unkempt twists she let me know about the minute he headed off. But even without this information, I hadn’t been too keen on him either. Especially after he called her a “doo-doo head” when I confirmed that no, she was not a fan.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I could, and should, have been clearer that I was no longer interested. It might have spared us both two years of unanswered texts, including one, a year or so later, demanding to know if I was still interested, for him to stop reaching out.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grade: F <\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tip: Its okay to make conversation with your date. It’s not okay to play dominoes for hours unless all parties are involved.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Gym Rat<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

I sent the first message. She lifted weights; me, too, since high school. (This was in the Before Times, I don’t know the last time I lifted something over ten pounds since March 2020.)<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

She responded, talking about form and her build: tall. (Okay, I’m here for it.) How much she could press: twice my body weight. (Well, damn, okay.) And then about how awesome she was. (Confidence\u2026 okay, cool. Love that for you.)<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I asked questions. She answered. Inserted personal anecdotes. She didn’t seem to notice.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I unmatched.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grade: D (only thing keeping her from an F is that she did actually sound interesting.)<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tip: Don’t make the whole interaction about yourself, no matter how interesting you think you are.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Blind Pets Are Enough<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

The conversation started as a trickle, like water from a faucet that had not been properly shut. It would be a few days before I gave him my undivided attention.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Shortly into our first full conversation, he sent a photo. I could guess what it was of and, if I cared to, might have been able to confirm my suspicion by pressing my face to my screen.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/sub>Fun fact,<\/sub><\/em> I typed instead, <\/sub>I’m visually impaired so pictures mean little to me.<\/sub><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Before telling you his response, I must admit that I always derived a little bit of pleasure during the “big reveal” moments. People were often so genuinely shocked because my eyes had to be contacts, my boobs were more interesting and\/or they didn’t read through my entire profile where I mention something about braille (usually because of the previous reason). So I had to find my entertainment somewhere, especially since I never knew how they’d react.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/sub>Oh.<\/sub><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/sub>Damn.<\/sub><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/sub>Um, I’m sorry I wasn’t prepared for that. I don’t think I do that. My dog is blind and I’m struggling with him. I don’t think I can do a relationship with a blind person.<\/sub><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

\u2026<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I don’t think I do that”, he’d said, as though I asked him to try doing jumping jacks on a tight rope.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I told him that though there was a difference between a blind person and a pet, I got it, I supposed.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/sub>I hope you understand my perspective sorry I just couldn’t imagine a life with you.<\/sub><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grade: F<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tip: \u2026 the ability to separate humans from pets is a coveted skill.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The Scammer<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

He lived in Nigeria, but his father lived in New York so he often visited during summer. We messaged for a bit before shifting to FaceTime calls. The conversations were interesting as we compared and contrasted life in the US versus Nigeria. And his accent was no chore to listen to either.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

“They teach Achebe over there?” Was his shocked response during one conversation about the reading list for one of my religion classes. <\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then, he asked for money. Not directly, but could someone send me money that I would then send to him?<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

If they could send me the money, I wondered, why couldn’t they just send it to him directly?<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

For some reason it wouldn’t work with their card. I told him I wouldn’t be able to either. And, when he asked again, left him on read. Eventually, he reached out, picking up the conversation as though nothing had happened. So we continued talking.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

And then, he sent me a picture. <\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

After scanning it with a photo recognition app, I discovered, confusedly, that it was an application of some kind.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

He’d just left LA, he told me, and didn’t get a chance to finish while there. He was applying for a PayPal credit card, could he use my address? The rest of his information was already filled in.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Couldn’t he use his dad’s address?<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

After another period of silence, he reached out to me on WhatsApp\u2014a change from the i’messages we’d been exchanging before the application\u2014saying he’d lost his phone. You may be wondering, at this point, why I kept up conversation after the first time he asked for money. And, honestly, I think I was bored\u2014a state in which all good decisions are made\u2014and a bit amused by the situation.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

But when he got weirdly possessive about me going out with friends\u2014not acceptable under normal circumstances, but especially coming from someone I’d never meet because he was quite clearly a scammer\u2014I was like, alright, we’re done here.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Except we weren’t.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Our last communication happened near Christmas. I’d posted to Facebook asking for donations for my music school’s performathon. At some point, he’d sent me a friend request which I’d forgotten about. So shortly after posting, I received a messenger message from him:<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/sub>Hey, that looks cool. Send me your AT&T login information and I can donate.<\/sub><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

What?<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grade: C- (Here me out, when he wasn’t attempting to scam me, the conversations <\/sub>were<\/sub><\/em> interesting.)<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tip: To be clear, I’m not encouraging scamming. But\u2026 a little creativity goes a long way.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Can you treat me to lunch?<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

It began as all great love stories do, on a well-lit and balmy night. It was the evening of Labor Day and the scorching early September sun and ungodly high temperatures had settled into something bearable. Though there was a steady breeze now, I still very much needed the band shirt and jean shorts I was wearing as I headed to CVS. It was around the start of my sophomore year, I’d just moved back into my dorm room and needed to get some paper cutlery and dishware until I got around to buying the eco-friendly (i.e. non-disposable) versions.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Walking through both sets of automatic doors, I took up my habitual position at the corner of one of the aisles. It was the usual game, see if anyone was working upfront who would either notice me or whose attention I could get.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Hey, do you need some help?”<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Yeah,” I said. “I need to get a few things, do you mind if I take your arm?”<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Sure. I haven’t seen you in awhile.”<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

As we moved through the store, I explained that school was starting back up, so I’d be around more often. Once I had paid for everything, he asked when I would be back.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I dunno, next time I need something.”<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

 He told me that he’d be there again Thursday and usually worked around this time. I  said okay and left.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two stores down, I stopped and mentally slapped myself. Hard.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Had he been flirting with me?<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

“Oh my God,” I moaned to my friend as I headed home. “Should I go back?”<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I did go back, not that night but a few times that week. He wasn’t there. One such time, his coworker\/friend commented, saying that while he usually worked that night, he was off. I awkwardly stammered something about only coming in to pick up\u2026 something. (I didn’t believe myself either.)<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’m never going back.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I did, he was there, we chatted, exchanged numbers and I bought one more thing I didn’t actually need. Later, a few messages into our conversation, he wrote:<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/sub>Can I ask u something, it’s dumb but I’m just curious<\/sub><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/sub>Sure<\/sub><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/sub>U like cvs ?<\/sub><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

There is still a bit of residual embarrassment as I type this. I told him that its only two blocks from my dorm, so very handy. Also, I don’t usually make that many\u2014I refuse to say how many\u2014trips in one week. He apologized, saying that he forgot he was off. One night, when he did still come in, but I’d just left or my friends and I had come in just after he’d gotten off. We just kept missing each other.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The conversation progressed from there: he’d done well in high school, but not college though he was planning to try again. He liked anime and was hard of hearing, by the way, since I’m visually impaired, did I receive SSI payments?<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

He asked me out, but I was going to DC that weekend with my sister. I suggested the following week, but he wouldn’t be paid until the week after. I wouldn’t mind treating, I told him but he wouldn’t disrespect me like that. He would rather go out when he had money. But before we got around to rescheduling, he ghosted. <\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

On New Year’s Day the following year, he reached out, apologizing profusely for disappearing but he lost his phone and no longer worked at CVS. I wasn’t able to answer when he first called, so he tried again. And again. Left voice messages, sent texts. He was extremely sorry.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/sub>How is u vision<\/sub><\/em>?<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I could treat him to lunch and he’d explain everything. My initial attempts at responding took too long, so he tried harder.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Two years later, I saw that he’d also sent me messages, not only on WhatsApp and iMessage, but sent a request on messenger too. Also profusely apologizing and wanting to talk.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grade: F<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tip: It’s okay to ask for a second chance. But I advise against spamming the person you’re pleading with, it might make them less receptive to hearing you out.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Blind People Exist?<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

Hey, you’re eyes are interesting, are those contacts or\u2026<\/sub><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

No, they’re not contacts, but no one ever gives me a choice. What’s the or?<\/sub><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Or you’re blind, but that can’t be it.<\/sub><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Actually, that’s exactly it<\/sub><\/em>. Then I asked about something from his profile.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

No response.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grade: F<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Is There Truth In Clich\u00e9?<\/strong><\/h2>\n\n\n\n

It was my first semester of grad school. I’d been crazy enough to move 3,400 miles away from home to study creative writing in London. Initially, I was a bit miserable. But, slowly, as the weeks wore on, I started making friends, developed a relationship with my aunt-in-law and began to explore on my own.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

During this time, I’d also changed the location on my dating app. I didn’t know exactly what I was looking for\u2014long term was usually the goal but I would only be in London\u2014definitively\u2014for a year or so. Beyond that, I didn’t know. At the time, staying didn’t seem very likely as I warred with the desire to head back home because everything was new and weird with different accessibility requirements. So the only thing I was certain of was just no hook ups.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Conversations varied wildly, from the guy willing to come back to the US with me (after only two days of conversation) to the one whose opening message was “I bet I could outdrink you” (with the different drinking cultures in the US and UK, I told him that yeah, he was probably right). There was the guy who shared his writing with me and seemed to be content to just have me edit\u2014not the first time\u2014and the person dealing with an FMS diagnosis and was looking for friends, maybe more, actually, they had no clue what they were looking for so they would just end the conversation here. Or the fellow American\u2014who didn’t like phone calls and never asked me questions about myself when texting\u2014heading back home for three weeks.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

One of the good things that came from those conversations\u2014besides stories\u2014was the motivation to continue working on getting comfortable traveling on my own. I’d tried to get mobility training but there was a six month to a year long waiting list. It didn’t seem like a good idea to not have at least a light understanding of how to get around though if I would be going on dates. If I even made it to that point. My jaded levels were rising though and I realized that it might be about time for another break.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

It was near the end of November and my godmother and godsister were visiting me for Thanksgiving. A holiday not celebrated in the UK, I didn’t have an official break, but I only had classes at the beginning of the week, leaving several uninterrupted days for travel.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

The night before my godfamily flew in and we left for Rome, I stumbled across a profile that I kept being drawn to, even after closing the app a few times as I decided if it was worth the energy. He’d mentioned cats, books, musicals (all things I love) and was over six feet tall (what can I say, I’ve got a thing for height.) But though he sounded great, I’d learned that the profiles I found most interesting either never matched or ended up being terrible conversationalists.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I’d send a message, I finally decided, asking what he was reading currently and then take my break. The intro was low-effort but engaging. And after years of this, what was one more message, right? <\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

As the plane boarded, I got a notification. I was pretty sure it was the guy I messaged last night. I tried to load it, but didn’t have enough signal. Then I had to turn off my phone. And soon we were navigating the airport and finding our heatless Airbnb. (We learned the next day about Rome’s strict heating laws, made a bit harsher by the war in Ukraine.) So that night, I was most interested in getting showered and warm.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

When I finally had a chance to check the message, it was\u2026 lengthy.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

That hadn’t happened in a while.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

I responded, letting him know that I was on vacation, so I’d message when I could. We kept up a cadence of one lengthy message a piece for the next few days.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Then I got back to London, had more time and our texts picked up. And, after my godfamily left, we had our first phone call\u2026 which lasted hours. So did the second. We somehow shifted into texting with alarming frequency throughout our days, not losing momentum in the three weeks it took us to have our first date where we talked for hours then, too.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

We met up around two and sat at a bakery, subsisting on tea and a cookie till closing. It even snowed lightly\u2014movie style\u2014when we finally left. We walked around a bit but couldn’t find anywhere to go next. It was The World Cup Round of 16\u2014whatever that means, all I know is England won that game\u2014but this meant that everywhere was packed.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

We didn’t lose conversational momentum when I headed back home for two weeks during New Year’s, or as we went on subsequent dates: to tea shops, museums, baked brownies or had dinner followed by Disney movies for Valentine’s Day.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Prompted by a Reddit thread from a distressed European in America, I asked, about a month into dating, about differences between dating in the US and UK. There’s a lot more rules\/structure and, sometimes, dating multiple people in the beginning, in the former and a more relaxed approach and things like assumed exclusivity in the latter.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

“I think Americans have commitment issues.” He’d said, when I expressed my surprise at the assumed exclusivity.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

He’s probably not wrong though as evidenced by my confused text to a friend:<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/sub>He’s giving emotionally available<\/sub><\/em>, I’d said. <\/sub>I don’t know if I’m emotionally available!<\/sub><\/em><\/p>\n\n\n\n

She laughed at me, told me I was overthinking. Then, also being British, discussed more cultural norms with me. There may be some benefit in balancing between the two customs: more conversations in the UK and less searching for the next best thing in the US. Either way, I was happy that I didn’t typically date multiple people. Otherwise, that might have been a bit awkward.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Even after these discussions, the first time he actually referred to himself as my boyfriend, my brain did its best shocked Pikachu face. No DTR talk?<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Grade: pending (but, 4.5 months in, definitely giving B+)<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Update: over a year later and we’re still going strong.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

A- (As Hannah Montana once said, nobody’s perfect)<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

Tip: no notes.<\/sub><\/p>\n\n\n\n

<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

: To be clear, I’m not encouraging scamming. But\u2026 a little creativity goes a long way.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6,7],"tags":[22,25],"class_list":["post-3998","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-creative-writing","category-dating","tag-daily-life","tag-england"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3998","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=3998"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3998\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":4002,"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/3998\/revisions\/4002"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=3998"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=3998"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/lilymordaunt.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=3998"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}