I have jumped on and off a couple of sites over the years with very little success.
I’ve also written about Theresa Gattung and her pricey dating site for those who are coined (to the tune of up to $6000), and generally the result is the same. Underwhelming.
The unanimous chorus from friends has been to give it another try.
When I discussed it with my sister, she said, “I got Rob on Trade Me, it’s amazing what you can find”.
To be fair, she isn’t lying. She met her now husband on the Find Someone section of Trade Me which is now defunct. The only thing that you’ll find under F on there is ‘Flatmate Wanted’.
That’s sort of the same thing, you still argue about whose turn it is to cook and put out the rubbish, but theoretically there is no hanky-panky involved.
However, when you think about how many housemates end up getting hitched, maybe that section of Trade Me might be a good option.
For the uninitiated, Bumble is a dating site where you can match with someone, but the female of the equation gets to start the conversation.
I like it, because if you swipe right on someone it gives you time to check that you had your glasses on and that they weren’t inadvertently atop a mountain, showing you their dad-bod or carrying a blood-soaked animal with horns.
Yes, before you start the ‘Rumble in the Bumble’ it pays to double check.
So, in the week since I dived back in to the quest for a like-minded bloke to do some fun stuff with, the site keeps telling me to extend my parameters.
You see, you can input how many kilometres away you are happy to travel for a date.
One way of describing it is the more desperate you are, the further you will consider travelling.
It would appear that the dating pool within a 50km radius of central Whanganui is more of a stagnant pond because I keep getting potential matches that pop up (they do that randomly to get you excited), but upon further investigation, they have lived in Auckland, Marlborough, Hawkes Bay, Northland or anywhere that is not here.
So, Bumble is kind of sick of me now and is virtually screaming at me to extend my accepted area so that I can at least have one conversation and a virgin mojito.
This is the other thing. New Zealanders aren’t used to going on dates as such.
If I think back to my younger days, the general plan was to go to the pub, meet someone, get rat-faced and then end up ‘together’.
I’ve let Bumble down again, because I don’t drink any more, so I can’t even rely on a bit of Dutch courage to help with the nerves.
I have had potential matches say that they would like a wine on the beach at sunset, a wine over a meal or a wine on a city escape.
Dr Seuss would have a field day. I would like it on a boat, I would drink it in my coat, I would slurp it off a goat... you get the picture.
It would appear that alcohol is still an integral part of the dating game.
But because I have made the choice to be in the minority of Kiwis who don’t drink, whoever dates me is getting the authentic version of me, and that can be slightly daunting for the inexperienced.
So far, I’ve had a man from one of our major cities that wanted to fly NOW for dinner – unmatched.
One bloke who warned me that he only talks-to-text so his spelling will be awful and he doesn’t use grammar – unmatched.
And the guy who matched and then only used monosyllabic responses – unmatched. As you can see, we’re off to a flyer. One has made the grade (so far).
I’ll keep you posted, but if he likes oysters, laughing at the same stupid things as I do and knows the difference between their, there and they’re, we are perilously close to meeting.
You probably think that I’m the fussiest person on earth. I’m not. I’m just older and wiser and I’m not afraid to say what I do and don’t like.
I’m becoming uber-aware of how little time we have on this earth and I don’t want to waste a minute of it with someone who doesn’t even remotely float my waka.
It would be different if I didn’t like my own company, but I do.
So much so, that I went on a hot date with myself last weekend. We went to a movie, to our shiny new art gallery and got some books out from the library.
If I don’t make honey while the suns shines with Bumble, I’ve still got me and I’m okay with that.
