Because they’re psychotic serial killers that need fresh blood?
Is this a twickster-specific grumble thread or can I throw in my own gripes? Ah, as Jack Burton always says, what the hell.
An acquaintance of mine–a rather attractive woman–encouraged me to try the speed dating service she used to great effect. “I get more dates than I can deal with; I actually had to set some guys up with friends of mine.” Et cetera, et cetera. $60 dollars lighter and 90 minutes later, I didn’t have anything to show for it but an amplified sense of alienation. I went home and watched Taxi Driver.
Someone else encouraged me to try a popular on-line service. I actually joined three, and sent out something like 600 messages–all grammatically correct, non-suggestive or creepy, and personalized to a greater or lesser extent–over the course of five months. I got about half a dozen responses that amounted to anything more than abject disinterest, stood up four times, and had two meet-cutes that were more like meet-flats. I went home and watched The King of Comedy.
I had a date about a year ago set up by a friend of a friend, with a lawyer who wouldn’t stop talking about something called “The Ali G Show”, despite the fact that I hadn’t seen it, wasn’t really interested in it, and didn’t think it was the sort of thing I’d take over having a red-hot poker applied to my eardrum. I went home and watched Raging Bull.
A few weeks later I had a meet with a young lady and we shared a couple of drinks–on my tab–before she admitted that she was already seeing someone seriously and that I wasn’t worth tossing him over for. (For the record, I agree…I’ve already played the dupe in a relationship enough times.) I went home and watched Cape Fear.
Then there was the abortive relationship with a woman of my acquaintance who decided that her (allegedly) physically and emotionally abused boyfriend was the better bet. Given the degree of manipulativeness she displayed afterward, including trying to engage a fight over her questionable charms, I have to regard it as a good failure, but a failure nonetheless. Yeah, I went home and pulled out Goodfellas.
Clearly, the conclusion to be drawn is that I need to find a woman who enjoys Scorsese-DeNiro collaberations, buy her a house, and punch myself in the face a few times, which will ultimately be less expensive and painful, and certainly less frustrating, than attempting to cultivate a relationship with some woman with whom I share some common interest.
Dating sucks. And I’m running out of Scorsese-DeNiro movies. (Don’t talk to me about New York New York.)
Stranger
