You know what’s worse than people constantly asking you whether you’re dating and why you’re still single? When they stop asking. When they’re so tired of being inundated with “no” “nope” “not even a little bit” and “are you fucking kidding me?”‘s that they just throw you into the forever alone box and leave it at that. Who wants to constantly reassure someone, “Oh, that’s okay, you’ll find someone someday!” for years upon years? I don’t believe it any more than you do, well-meaning friend o’ mine, so I don’t blame you for giving it all a rest.
I try not to lament the fact that I’m 30 goddamn years old (not bitter!) and the most I’ve had is a series of multiple year long sort-of-somethings with non-committal types ever since I was old enough to stop looking at boys as strange things to be invisibly showered with cootie spray. Yes, I try not to lament it, and most of the time, it honestly doesn’t bother me. Being involved with guys who kept me at arms length my entire adult life has made me extremely comfortable being alone, and it’s also done a great job in preventing me from ever being described as a gushy girl who romanticizes a guy letting me in front of him in line or something.
But, I mean, sometimes, it sucks. A vibrator can’t hug you back, ya know?
Most people who know me well are used to my face looking like I just sucked on a lemon when they talk about love, or throwing out a flat “that’s really nice” as a response when someone describes that cute thing their boyfriend did for them. Part of that is absolutely jealousy, and part of it is me lying to myself that I don’t want any of that “crap.” I like to pretend that I don’t, but I want what everyone else wants.
Now don’t ever bring up the fact that I said that.
So why, in a city full of zillions of people, am I still spending Friday nights with my dog? Well, first of all, my dog is awesome. But besides that, some of it is me. My personality isn’t for everyone — it’s weird, and I use sarcasm and humor as a steel-reinforced shield — and part of it I blame on LA. Dating here is so fucking soul-crushing that after you try for awhile, you really would rather sit in your living room alone with Get Him To The Greek and five bottles of wine than go on another failed boyfriend audition.
Speaking in mass generalizations — that are true for a LOT of guys here — LA guys:
-Are here for a purpose. They are trying to make it in their field, whether it’s acting, finance, marketing, circus clownship, whatever, and they don’t care to do anything serious until they’ve reached whatever that “making it” is to them.
-Are here for a good time. There’s attractive women literally everywhere. Why the fuck would a dude settle for one girl with all this variety?
-Don’t put in any effort. They want you to chase them. Or sleep with them right away. Or I have no idea. I’ve never encountered such picky men in my life.
It’s not really a city for settling.
I say this despite most of my friends in LA being in serious relationships, soooo…that’s….funny.
Literally right before I hit publish on this sad tale, some guy sent me an email that he’d read my old blog post on interracial dating and thinks I’m “a super interesting person especially since your perspective is one of a white girl and I’m a black male.” So holy shit guys, game over.