Either that or dating in 2012 is totally different to dating in 2006
Or, quite possibly, both. And add to the mix the fact I’m coming into this dating game from an entirely different place to most people. And that the Internet is kind of weird to begin with.
Whatever. We already know that Internet dating is a very strange place. A few moths back, tired of having my vulnerabilities trampled upon, my heart broken and my belief in any kind of romance sadly disillusioned, I shifted my focus from the romantic–looking–for–my–soul–mate–to–go–walking–along–the–beach–with kind of websites to the more quissentially tacky ‘dating’ sites, complete with annoying flash ads, half naked couples on the home page and a veritable plethora of strange, lonely people all ‘Not Looking For A Relationship’ scanning the message boards and Online Now columns to find innocents like me to startle.
The communications that turn up in my inbox have shifted along with my change in sites. While they once consisted of a mix of normal type human male messages (’Hi how are you?’) and missives so strange, creepy or badly spelt they were laughable; they now entail a mix of normal male type messages (’Hi how are you?’) to offers and suggestions that either make me blush so fiercely I can’t check my email in public or actually require me having to Google terms to find out what they mean. (‘Bukkake‘. Don’t do it, you will regret it.)
I’m certainly not a prude and I really thought I was pretty damn knowledgable when it came to sex and that more adult side of life. Evidently I was very wrong. I’m fairly sure that some of the acts being suggested here aren’t even legal in many parts of the world. The total lack of desire I feel toward reading 50 Shades of Grey stems mainly from the idea that, compared to my inbox, it might just be boring.
|I look like Mary freaking Poppins. Far too sweet to be tied up. Or handcuffed.
I’m not sure why, but it didn’t strike me as surprising that most of the men responsible for sending these kinds of communiqués are affluent, hard working, well groomed professionals. I’m actually not sure what they’d do if this pierced, tattooed hippy chick who doesn’t drink champagne turned up on their doorstep… and my self esteem is definitely not in the place to be knocked around by trying to find out.
In addition to the Eastern Suburbs office workers who are into kinky sex, there’s another more disturbing trend I’m noticing in the online dating world. I’m not sure if it’s actually as prevalent as it seems or if it’s just the fact that I seem to be inherently attractive to that alpha–male type…
But the number of police officers who have a real thing for bondage is positively scary. To be honest, it seems to extend further than just coppers. It also includes security guards, army personnel and, in one particularly unsettling encounter, a seemingly geeky statistician… who just happened to work for an international ammunition company and had some kind of fantasy involving a petite woman in a dog collar. (And let’s not forget the potentially psychopathic abattoir foreman).
And in case you’re wondering– which I know you are– the generalized stereotype I’m referring to here are into doing the dominating, not being dominated.
I’m sure if I wasn’t so exhausted I could come up with some correlation between men and penii and guns and domination, and probably throw some phallic insecurity in there as well. I’m also sure that if this fact was more publicly known, there would be far fewer arrests– who wants to be locked in the back of a paddy van with someone who gets off on tying people up and whipping them?
Again, whatever. Given my aversion to rope, it’s probably not going to be my thing. But I can reassure you that the NSW judicial system is in respectable, ethical hands.
Out of all those coppers, not one has offered to use his handcuffs on me.
I’m sure he’s going to entirely love being tacked onto the end of this particular post. Heh.
This time around the Bear is doing the National Black Dog Ride– it’s a bigger, longer trip, all the way to Australia’s Red Centre- the Northern Territory. (While I seethe with vivid green jealousy and cursing my lack of available childcare…)
The sponsorship page for the Bear’s National Black Dog Ride is here. Any support you can throw his way is very much appreciated.