The time I Tried Online Dating

Sadly the town I have moved into appears to be populated by women and old men. Every young man is taken or just a total ars... idiot. Having been a single pringle, save the odd date, for over a year, I decided to take the plunge. Online dating. 

Sexybabe69 or something more serious?
First come first, a username. I did't want to give away too much about myself. My first name definitely couldn't be in there, I didn't really want my birth year there either. What emerged was a jumble of letters from my first and middle name and a random combination of numbers. Sexy. 

Matchmaking Questions
Before I drifted off to sleep I answered a couple of the bizarre questions which would hopefully lead me to my Romeo; "Would the UK be safer if everyone had a gun?", "Would you sleep with someone on your first date" blah blah blah. Not feeling overly confident that these responses would really find me my soulmate I switched off and headed to the land of nod. 

Logging in
It wasn't until the next evening I even remembered what I'd done the night before after I received an email informing me that I had a match! I logged in and all I could see was that a 50 year old balding man had visited my page, which at this point had very little on it, creepy. I decided the only way was to quickly update my profile to make it clear I am after someone under, not over, the age of 30 and to give a little more information about yours truly

All about me
Having cleared up my ideal age range and that I was in fact looking for a male that lived near to me I came to writing about myself. This became my second dilemma. Should I be truly honest? My favourite Friday night is getting into my rabbit print PJs, eating cheesy pasta and crying along to a weepy film. One thing I am is a terrible liar, so I just avoided the Friday night question and advertised my more appealing traits. Yoga, check. Baking, check. Travelbug, check then finally happy with what I'd written, and confident that it described me I uploaded. 

My worst nightmare, I hate photos of me at the best of time. I was absolutely feeling the pressure as I browsed my image library for this defining image. This was to be the first thing people see when they flick past my profile. My one shot. At this point I realised how few photos I have with just me in. I wanted a realistic pic, not one where I had spent an hour getting ready for a night out. I settled for one on my travels. Windswept, slightly tanned and with a goofy grin standing on the Great Ocean Road. 
I cropped it. I submitted it. I waited. I made myself a brew. I refreshed my page and BOOM! Almost 30 views and 5 messages, it had only been 15 minutes. What was with the world!
"Hey, how are you? :) x" read one. The bloke still looked closer to the age of my parents than me. There were a lot of 'Heys', I began to realise I am crap at flirting. I wasn't prepared to enter a 'hey, how are you?' convo. Then this beauty hit me from a fella whose username was something along the lines of 'imamazincool'*
"Hey ur cute we a shud go 4 a drink sometime" 
Where do I even begin?! The lack of punctuation or The use of early 00's text talk or the whole ur cute thing. I had just enough time for a quick browse of my 'matches' who consisted mainly off topless men and selfies so close I could see their pores before I quickly logged straight out and refuse to log in again.  
Maybe internet dating isn't for me. Or maybe I need to splurge to a more reputable site. Or there is always the Cat's Protection where I can begin my decline into crazy cat lady territory.

*names changed to protect serial daters identities. 

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