I like to think that eventually I’ll run into some fantastically good looking guy at a coffee shop, we’ll talk for hours over coffee and muffins (because everyone likes a good muffin), he’ll walk me home, we’ll exchange phone numbers and end the afternoon with a simple kiss on the cheek. It’s not love at first sight, but gosh darn it, it’s something. However, in my personal experiences, that never happens. The likelihood of meeting someone at a coffee shop is slim to none. I mean, let’s get real. You wait in line, order your drink, and out the door you go. If that’s not the case you’re most likely slaving away on your computer with your headphones in oblivious to the world. There is no chance that you are meeting anyone at a coffee shop, and neither am I. It’s nice to think that something out of a movie will happen, but you and I both know it’s never going to.
I’ve come to the conclusion that it’s time to stop focusing on these unrealistic expectations. I’m not going to meet a guy at a coffee shop, I’m not going to meet a guy at the bookstore and I’m not going to be waiting for a taxi on Michigan Avenue, in the rain, when a handsome guy in a limo pulls up and offers me a ride like something from SATC. I will however meet a guy at the local bar while pounding shots of cheap tequila; he’ll pretend to be really into me… until the minute I deny him that ass grab or “passionate” kiss. He swears he isn’t just trying to get in my pants, he really likes me. Blah blah blah, I’ve heard it before. Heck, he might even say that he’ll text me tomorrow while sober. God, it’s almost desperate how hard he’s trying to pretend like he’s doesn’t just want to see me naked. Admit it dude, just admit it. This is when I decide, at the age of 23, it may be impossible to meet anyone. If I don’t go home with him, I’ll most likely never talk to him again. If I do go home with him, I’ll most likely never talk to him again. IS THERE ANYWAY TO WIN THE BATTLE?! Yet every weekend, I go out and think, “This is the night. I’m going to meet the man of my dreams. I’m about to be swept off my feet”, and every Sunday I think “Welp, #ForeverAlone”.
There has got to be some way to meet people, I mean not everyone in our generation is single. Is 23 years old too young to join a dating site? Like an actual dating site. Not stupid Tinder…it’s not even a dating site; it’s a hook-up site. See? Tinder just took the concept of meeting someone at a bar, and put it online. He’ll pretend he really “likes” you, but then the dick pics roll in and the intellectual conversation rolls out. Maybe I can join eHarmony. Or how about OkCupid? Those commercials are soooo intriguing. Ugh. Who am I kidding? I want to meet someone at a coffee shop, talk for hours over coffee and muffins, he’ll walk me home, we’ll exchange phone numbers and end the afternoon with a simple kiss on the cheek. Why is it so hard to get rid of these unrealistic expectations? Because there are NO. OTHER. OPTIONS. I just want to start a relationship with someone before he tries to shoves his tongue down my throat or send me pictures of his crooked penis…C’mon, it’s almost 2015. Shouldn’t there be some sort of ‘create your own boyfriend’ app by now?