UnNews:The Singles Crisis: UnNews Reporter's Two Years on Plenty of Fish
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The Singles Crisis: UnNews Reporter's Two Years on Plenty of Fish
Who knew The Onion® had a retarded stepbrother?
Tuesday, June 30, 2015, 00:24:UTC)(
10 May 2013
VANCOUVER, Canada -- Signing into the site, a rush of excitement always occurred. Would I be lucky today? Did the girl from the internet cafe in Fiji take me up on my offer? Did the guy in Texas get the point that I am not visiting him!?
Online dating is fun. It is also frustrating and weird. My experiment with the site Plenty of Fish began when searching for "plant food" on a lesser-known search engine on the outskirts of the Internet. My love for Google had diminished somewhat - having discovered I could no longer disengage the safe search option in Images! I was sick of pictures of cats. My annoyance at this, lead to the seemingly Russian-built search engine and its incompetence. Although, it was this incompetence, which would ironically lead to a voyage around the world, a voyage of love and strange incidents, a journey into sexual and emotional desire.
My first priority (and problem) was convincing my wife. The need to go on a sexual rampage around the world was easy enough for myself to agree with; she, however, thought otherwise. "What do you want to do, come with me?", I said sarcastically. "Yes", she replied, the look in her eyes.
Part of our deal was to alternate the decisions of where we would go. Fiji was our starting point, as, Lamishi from the internet cafe, had finally said yes to my visit. We arrived four days later, it was a glorious scene. It was just like being in a movie! That is, until Lamishi appeared - all three hundred pounds of Lamishi. My hotel room struggled to house us both. I knew I'd made the first mistake in online dating: she had used a fake picture.
My wife was nearby on the beach as Lamishi and I pounded along the sand, we must have looked ridiculous. I now know we did indeed look ridiculous - my wife having taken plenty of photos! I questioned my internet friend on her profile picture: "It old photo", she said with conviction. I now wondered just how many people on dating websites used fake pictures? I made an excuse and left her on the beach, dragging my wife along. The first disastrous stop on our journey had left me disheartened, more so now that it was my wife's turn to have fun. We were going to Australia to visit a man called Owen.
Arriving in Sydney, Australia, we were met by my wife's new "friend", Owen. He was tall, polite and lived in the middle of nowhere. We flew in his twin-engined plane to his farm in the outback. I started to enjoy myself, the scenery was astounding. The thought of Fosters Lager in some some remote pub made me smile and I wondered if Owen had a sister or just any female I could spend time with. It would be fun to have a drink with a Sheila.
Upon landing we drove to Owen's farm which was called Owen's Farm. The farmhouse was spacious and airy. The building was cool despite the heat of the desert. I noticed musical instruments occupying one room, Owen proudly anticipated my questions by displaying his skills on the guitar. My own addiction to the piano mirrored his enthusiasm perfectly - we played long into the night. The next morning we continued: a song had been born and had become fast friends.
In our excitement, we had forgotten about my wife. She was less than joyful at our new friendship She informed us she would spend the last three days of our visit with another man. Owen and I used our jealousy and created another song! We envisioned an album being made and by the end of our time together had recorded one. We loved our new album and the Fleetwood Mac romance to it all. We were breaking up with the same woman and having a ball. The second mistake of online dating was apparent: Owen's true intention was friendship.
We flew back to Sydney and promised to email each other We would meet again in a few months to promote our demo. For now, we had [places]] left to visit.
Paris is the city of love, Vivienne was the living definition of love. We agreed to meet at her home. I gave my wife a lot of cash to go shopping - and without guilt, went to find my French object of desire.
An elderly gentleman appeared at the door to the large and beautiful building. I asked for Vivienne, "Ah, Qui", he replied and lead me to a room so elegantly decorated. A priceless grand piano stood in the room. I sat at the piano and felt the fine French Polish and ivory keys of the century-old instrument. The old man reappeared. He said something in French and left the room. A girl then entered the room , it was Vivienne! She sat next to me and we talked. She was as beautiful as her picture, she hadn't lied about that, she was intelligent and funny and she was all she said she was - except - age. It soon became clear, the third mistake of online dating was lying about age. Vivienne had all the attributes of a woman of 18 but was in reality only 16. Knowing French and English laws would maybe allow such a thing to occur, I couldn't find any desire in Vivienne anymore. Her doddery old Grandfather had let me in without question and my maturity kicked in and gave her a lecture on playing about online. I felt so ancient and past my prime. I left and went to find my wife.
Apart from my friendship with Owen and new album, I hadn't yet done anything remotely resembling a sex frenzied world-tour. Despite feeling no enthusiasm, I honored our agreement and followed my wife to the United States to visit her final choice, Eric.
Eric worked in the City, a real conjurer of money and expert in stocks. He was really quite over the top with his constant theatrical hand movements and desire to show anyone within range that he knows all there is to know about money. It took two seconds to know why he was single - he's a moron.
He and my wife went out for the evening, Eric had given me the use of his penthouse apartment and a limo. I checked Facebook for the first time in days and Lamishi had changed her status to in a relationship. Who the hell took her I wondered? Sure enough, someone had met her on holiday. They looked happy. Vivienne had deleted her dating account like I asked her to - and set up another. I hoped she'd be fine. I started work at that moment on what would become this article. A strange thing happened - of the four people we had met, the first letter of their names spelt LOVE. It was quite astonishing. I knew right away it was worth saving our lifeless marriage. We didn't have to go on dating sites, we already had someone. That annoying, ungrateful, miserable woman was on the other hand, talkative, full of wisdom and complex. I took the limo and went in search of my wife.
I found her, sitting by herself outside a bar. She was typing on her laptop. Eric had annoyed her until she could take no more. I let the limo go and sat with my wife and ordered an Australian beer. "You know," she started - "the people we have just spent all that time with make a word when using the first letters of their names... vole, isn't that a rodent?" We would never see anything the same way but at least we are done with online dating.
|This article features first-hand journalism by an UnNews correspondent.|