Dating Blindly

Ever have one of those days where your short-term memory seems to be nonexistent? Perhaps a goldfish one-ups you with their three-second memory span capability. Ever find yourself texting with too many people at once who want to meet up for dinner/drinks/coffee/whatever and you can’t remember who you agree to meet up with on a Thursday night and have to go back through your phone to try and figure out who it was? Welcome to my life.

After tweeting this morning about my dilemma of not remembering who I’m supposed to be meeting up with tonight, my friend @SpotGTony (since Twitter thought @TonyGSpot was inappropriate) informed me it was more accurately called #WhoreProblems rather than #GayBoyProblems. I beg to differ. I call it weeding out the idiots in a quest to find someone decent. It’s like the denim tables at Nordstrom Rack – you don’t typically find the perfect pair right on the top of the pile. The perfect pair is usually misplaced on the wrong table or at the bottom of a stack that you wouldn’t find if you didn’t go looking for it.

Which is exactly the reason why I’m more than willing to go on dates with a variety of people. I live in Chicago. I’m single. I’m fresh meat. I may as well take a chance, live it up, and meet some new people while that lasts. Plus you never know who you’ll randomly meet or the conversations you’ll have on a random date. At the least it’s good blog material.

Needless to say, I’m interested to see who I’ll be somewhat-blindly meeting (probably not having previously Facebook-creeped or Google-searched as usual) this evening. Perhaps he’ll be a winner (see also: I’m Not Picky….I Just Know What I Want). Perhaps not. Regardless, I better not get catfished…and he better pick up the tab.

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