Dating is an annoyance. An inconvenience, even.
If you’ve ever dipped your toes into the shark-infested waters of the dating pool, you know exactly what I’m talking about. You don’t HAVE to spend a lot of money, but of course you end up doing that anyway. Every date has a tendency to start with the same surface level questions, like asking someone what their favorite color/animal/food/music genre is. And more often than not, you’re going to have more misses than hits, especially if your name is Larry King. (He had a lot of wives. Misses. Mrs? Forget it; I don’t owe you people anything.)
Over the past year, I’ve opened myself up to the dating scene like never before. Where I used to be rather restrained in my approach with women, I’m now far more comfortable approaching someone I don’t even know, in person and online. I’ve gone on dates with the types of women I never considered as possibilities, as well as the types I thought I could only dream of, at least on the surface. You could say that I’ve broadened my search to fit nearly any type of woman, or you could say that I’m desperately alone. You could also say neither would be entirely inaccurate.
To be honest, I’m actually OK with my singleness. Sure, it would be nice to be in a relationship with someone that is built on trust, intimacy, and love, but I don’t exactly have a lot to offer at this stage of my life aside from semi-witty conversation and a whole lot of opinions on everything. At least, that’s what I’ve been feeling since I moved to Phoenix.
You see, Phoenix is an interesting place. I come from Indiana, which is in the heart of the Midwest. Everything you’ve heard about the Midwest is generally true, which isn’t something I realized or admitted until moving away from it. There’s a certain genuineness to the people back home that I don’t come across as frequently here in the Valley. There are definitely genuine people here, and people who would give you the shirt off their backs. However, and this might be a case brought on by my own doing and the people I surround myself with, I’ve been deeply turned off by the rampant superficiality and shallowness of the general populace. This is probably a “young adult” thing more than it is a systemic Phoenix issue, but nevertheless, it’s true.
What makes this an even more interesting case study is that the amount of ridiculously good looking people (RGLPs for short) in the Valley is so high it would make Derek Zoolander turn left without thinking. (Timely pop culture reference, right there.) This giant glob of RGLPs—which I have dubbed “The Gathering”—makes for an interesting culture that makes it very difficult to wade through all the bullshit. If you know what the labels “Scottsdale Girl” and “$30,000 Millionaire” mean, you know what I’m talking about.
On more than one occasion, I’ve had to end a date within the first thirty minutes because I couldn’t stand listening to the other person. And on more than one occasion, I’ve been “let down” because I didn’t meet an arbitrary job/income requirement. And yes, I’ve also been turned down because the other person just didn’t feel anything toward me.
These dating difficulties aren’t exclusive to this area, to be sure. However, I’ve noticed them far more than I have in any other location I’ve lived.
So, all of this to say: Phoenix, I love you. But I don’t want to date you.