Internet dating wasn’t something that had crossed my mind 6 years ago when I was last single in London Town. As a young(er) twenty something with better things to do than sit behind a computer screen scouting for men, why waste my time carefully crafting an OKC Profile when it’s easier to find a bloke (and get him to buy you some ridiculously overpriced drinks) while out partying (or even on the night bus home)? However, I do regret that I never did the dating thing in the Big Smoke. There is after all something lovely about the anonymity that comes with living in a big city. You can date (or drop panties with), pretty much whoever and whatever you want, without anyone ever finding out (as long as you don’t go publicising your amazing night of passion of Facebook).
Sadly, this is not the case here in the Mother ‘City’ (the term rural village might be more apt), where everyone knows everyone. This is not the place to play the field, especially if you are a Backpocketing Guy that doesn’t want anyone to find out about ‘us’, because they will. Rest assured, if you create a reputation for yourself here, it WILL precede you. And don’t be surprised if you are innocently swiping away and suddenly spot someone you recognise, it might be a friend’s long-term lover or maybe their Dad, who knows?
A Cheap Form of Speed Dating
Let’s rewind to one earliest Tinder dates back when I was naïve enough to let my ‘friends’ swipe (and do a full background check on said date) for me. I don’t kiss and tell but let’s just say it was foot-popping. So there I am the next day excited for the debrief, till I find out that no one has the slightest interest in hearing about my story. In fact, they have a story that trumps mine. Turns out the friend who’d swiped for me, well through a complex mathematical process he’d deduced that we’d just done some strange date-swap as his lady-friend from the previous night had just recently had a hellish date with my ‘dreamboat’. Perhaps that should have raised a red flag that things with this bad boy could only end in disaster?
If that isn’t enough to put you off. Meet the overly-attached guy whose one requirement is that his woman is vegetarian. Silly me for not figuring out that the chances of him having worked his way through all the veggie girls in a carnivorous place like Cape Town, are pretty high. No better way impress a lady than by telling her you’d dated another one her herbivore friends a few weeks ago. If I was a brighter spark, maybe I’d have realised there was a reason why she’d so promptly ditched him. Lesson learnt – no more sloppy seconds for me.
‘Do I know you from somewhere?’
And I am in no way unique. These days you can’t even enjoy a summer’s day in Green Point Park without a random coming up and insisting he knows one of friends from somewhere. Luckily, (for her), his little mind just can’t quite figure out where from. As he walks away with his tail between legs, she turns to you and utters those dreaded words of doom: ‘TINDER!!’.
By now you’d think I would exercise more caution but as it turns out I have a date with someone tonight who Facebook tells me is BFF’s with that famous wannabe Indian Prince. Let’s just hope he has better fashion sense, hey?
And the moral of the story? Dating in Cape Town is a dangerous game. Its a small world where everybody knows your business and people love to talk. If you want to harbour dirty little secrets, maybe its best you do that sordid stuff elsewhere, Stellenbosch, perhaps?
Now over to you rinsers, share your small world dating stories and help me feel like less of a clown…