Deathmatch Dating

When you’re getting no love from the dating world, there is a sort of perverse pleasure in hearing about other people’s misfortunes. I know some of my friends delight in my various trials (some of which I can’t really publish here in all fairness) and I myself am no stranger to this voyeuristic desire either. I like to believe that there are people out there worse off than me (so I’m not actually sitting at the bottom of a figurative heap I’m never going to get out of) and that I am not merely a dating disaster waiting to happen. It’s also somewhat comforting to think that I am in fact normal.

And in the way of things when I was recently sharing some previous experiences, I was introduced via email to the concept of Deathmatch Dating. As is so often the case it seems, one bad date is always followed by another. For some of us, things truly go from bad to worse and we wonder what on Earth we’ve done (in this life or even a previous one) to deserve our current situation or how the hell we actually managed to get here in the first place. When it comes to this, all you can do is either laugh or cry. Or as a couple of guys did, start a competition, the winner being he who has supplied the worst date story by the end of the year.

I’m sure I wasn’t really supposed to end up with some of these stories so I can neither share them nor reply to the author. I can’t tell him I thought they were absolutely hilarious or that he has a real way with words but I can say that the following was one of the best metaphors for a dead-end date that I have ever heard: Well not much to report really. When you throw one of those headache tablets into the glass of water you're really looking for a bit of fizz, even if it is powdery. If it doesn't fizz, you end up having to gulp down a hideous tasting concoction and hoping it takes the pain away.

I can also say that I loved his response to the repeated questions of whether a potential relationship actually had a future. His gut reaction was something along the lines of ‘Hell No’ and he felt that in a perfect world, a fitting reply could quite possibly be "This is your pilot speaking. We will be landing in Dumpsville-on-Neverwereactuallytogetheranyfreakinway shortly. Your connecting flight to Anywhere The Hell Away From Me will be departing almost immediately from Gate 12. However, if you miss it, there will be flights leaving EVERY 30 SECONDS thereafter. Your luggage...err...BAGGAGE will be forwarded. This flight will be refuelling immediately and returning to My Life Without You as soon as possible, so please make sure you take all your belongings out of the overhead lockers and remove all my numbers from your mobile phone SIM before disembarking. I thank you for flying Air *. Oh by the way your membership of the exclusive * Frequent Flyers Club has been revoked. Forever.".

Sure, I wouldn’t be that keen to have it said to me but you’ve got to admit, if you’re not on the receiving end it is kind of funny. So to the author may I just say I wish you the all the best in your Deathmatch Dating (however 'best' may be achieved) and you rock man.