SF Seeks SM; Must Not Be Supernatural

If a crowded, beer-sodden pub is the last place you’d go to find Mr. or Mrs. Right, the arrival of online dating must have been a godsend. In a perfect world, it unites like-minded couples in a non-threatening virtual space, before having to commit to a physical date.

On the weekend, you would NEVER find me in a raucous club or hitting the dance floor with “the girls.” I’m awkward, disdain crowds, have major social anxiety, a borderline unhealthy obsession with unicorns, an aversion to live music, and spend 85% of my time alone. That being said, I don’t meet many new people in my day-to-day, nevermind someone I’d be willing to date. The pickin’s are slim, people.

My online dating life began when I entered college. Men are conveniently displayed like items on a menu, their ingredi-, er, personalities carefully summarized on a single page. Not many attractive, Christian dorks with an appreciation for science fiction in my ZIP code. But I manage.

Before curiosity gets the best of you, I did (eventually and painstakingly) meet the absolute love of my life, who is infinitely cooler than me (Hi, baby!). But before that, I had some very colorful experiences.

Gary* had waist-long hair and multiple facial piercings. Right off the bat, he berated me for believing in God and not consuming meat. His vocabulary was composed largely of profanities and within 10 minutes of our meeting, he proceeded to tell countless dead baby jokes.

Gary gladly confessed to being a dragon reincarnated as a human who communicated nightly with his dragon mentor. Meanwhile, he was inhabiting his mother’s attic and working part-time at Gamestop, from which he later was terminated. In a last ditch effort to win me over, Gary told me that my true form was that of an angel and a truly blessed messenger (flattering, really). Oh, and he met Jesus. In case you’re wondering, “He’s not all he’s cracked up to be.” I couldn’t make this shit up.

This was around 10 years ago. Until last year, Gary repeatedly attempted to contact me through several different Facebook accounts, confessing his unending love and threatening to kill himself if I did not return his affections. Mmm, no, thank you.

Larry* wore his sunglasses at night. And inside. He never took them off. It was a strange habit, but I was intrigued by the soulful way he’d stare into the landscape. I was sure he was thinking great thoughts. Turns out, he believed he had the power to burn holes in organic matter. He stared at the landscape trying to burn holes into leaves so that he wouldn’t accidentally burn holes into a person. That’s the same reason he wore the sunglasses. It was sweet in a way. I guess.

Wayne* presented as a relatively normal guy through our texts and he was reasonably attractive in pictures. We met up in a small East Village hot spot. Wayne was around 50lbs heavier than advertised and unpleasantly noisy. Patrons sitting around us stared in horror as he endeavored, rather unsuccessfully, to remove his outermost layer of clothing while his hairy stomach floundered about in all its tufted glory. I was much too reserved and nervous to bolt, so our date continued. Later in the evening, his companion joined us. It was at this point that Wayne divulged his true nature: He was a wolf, naturally, and the Alpha of his pack. He and his companion (the Beta) spoke in a cryptic wolf language and howled at the sky. At the night’s end, Wayne inched close to me and professed, “Though I’m a wolf, tonight you made me feel like a man.” I cried on the bus home.

Readers, those dates were the stuff of nightmares. I can sincerely say that I am elated to be out of the dating game. It may be fun to play the field (especially when you can extort the poor weirdos for an article), but be wary of the other players.

I guess the saying is true: You have to kiss a lot of supernatural beings before you find your prince. (That’s the saying, right?) And although my prince is otherworldly in charm, I can gladly say that he’s grounded firmly in reality.

*Names have been changed, as I’m suspicious that one of them is reading this right now, sobbing my name.