Say we have nothing in common dating
I’m 31, I haven’t been in a serious relationship for a couple of years, and a few months ago I started using an online dating site.
It's a cornerstone of our humanity; only love protects us enough to grow and change.
It is, for example, a guaranteed political flash point: Exactly whose love is entitled to receive civic or religious recognition? Lawyers may dine out on love gone awry, but public policy is often left to grapple with the mess of disaffected children and poverty it leaves in its wake.
Still, anyone who has come within waltzing distance of it, read Jane Austen or Danielle Steele, or listened to Frank Sinatra or Celine Dion, knows there's no elixir like love. Of course, we want someone to share our laughter, be a best friend as well as a lover, someone who'll not only listen to our doubts and celebrate our triumphs but also jump in the car for impromptu getaways.
I don't care if you're the most self-confident, well-adjusted person around; rejection hurts. So instead of asking the person on a date, you go on approximations of dates that allow for plausible deniability of all romantic intentions. Fear of rejection alone has resulted in the proliferation of Starbucks like a French-roasted virus.
It makes the remaining friendship awkward at best, and humiliating at worst. People suffer through this in the hope that the object of their affection will eventually buckle and reveal his or her true feelings. They keep making up excuses to hang out, hedging all their bets and waiting for God to give them a sign.
That's because asking someone out involves potential pain. Worst of all, you engage in the most banal and abysmal of non-dates-going to coffee.