If I ever find myself back on the market, I’m toast.
Not only would I have almost no idea how to navigate the twisted roads of contemporary dating for 20- and 30-somethings, I doubt I’d be able to tolerate it.
I met my significant other in March 2000 at a college formal. The early blush of our courtship involved awkward flirtation in my dorm room, late-night walks to the 24-hour Dunkin’ Donuts in town and afternoons pretending to study by the pond on campus.
It did not involve any of the following: texting, online social networking or Google.
For a long time, friends have sought my insights about relationships. While I’m no expert, I think I generally advise them well. I really have no idea, however, how to respond to comments like: “He posted on his ex-girlfriend’s Facebook wall.” Other than to say: “Well, quit spying on his Facebook page.” And sometimes, I get the feeling that type of response isn’t always considered productive.
Having narrowly avoided the age of techno-wooing, I sometimes feel a separation from other members of my generation. I wonder how it is people can tolerate a dating world that involves so many rules about levels of contact.
Sure, I Skype with my sweetheart, but we didn’t begin our romance by scrutinizing each other’s Facebook walls (not invented yet) or agonizing over trying to formulate adorably flippant text messages. I doubt I’d be able to stomach the New Dating Etiquette: Who friends whom first? Is the 😉 sign in his text flirtatious or mocking? Does an e-mail beget a text beget a call beget the path to the exalted status update: Mary Jones is In A Relationship with John Carter?
Or as Drew Barrymore bemoaned in “He’s Just Not That Into You:” “You just have to go around checking all these different portals just to get rejected by seven different technologies.” Bad movie, good point.
One of my friends has told me she’s rather against texting when it comes to early courtship. “I don’t like how informal it makes everything,” she said, “I don’t feel like there’s any pursuit required. The texting thing — you can hide behind it. There’s all this stupid time you spend analyzing what things mean.”
I have a scientific experiment I’d like someone to try. Next time you meet a guy or gal who floats your particular boat, get a phone number. Then, without perusing a social networking site or avoiding potential for awkwardness/misunderstanding by texting, make a call and invite the lady or gentleman to join you for a meal/outing/bank heist.
I know, so quaint.