So in my last post on the subject, I mentioned how my natural state of being when it comes to the dating game is the pursee, not the pursuer. But I recognized that Australian culture doesn’t exactly jive with this attitude, and that I need to adjust how I play the game if I ever hope to successfully date in this country.
So I underwent a scientific experiment where I tested out this new theory, except instead of taking small steps with multiple targets to assess where I have to draw the line between the way I like to play the game and making sure I actually get a date with an attractive Aussie male (the smarter way to approach it), I went whole-hog-forward chick with the next person who caught my fancy. Never mind that the target I chose was definitely not optimal (too close to home), but I also was reminded (yet again) that there is such a thing as overdoing it.
Basically, I did the opposite of every gut instinct I had. Did I text first? Yup. Did I suggest grabbing a drink without being asked first? You know it. Did I still make an attempt at contact even after said drink was declined (politely and flirtatiously, but still declined)? Mhmm. And did I finally just say – “Listen, should we keep texting or just call it a day?” God, how embarrassing, I totally did. Even though every cell in my body was screaming at me to let sleeping dogs lie, I remembered how I had promised myself to approach dating differently (plus I was desperately close to my self-imposed “get a date on your own or you need to start using the Internet” deadline of end of January). The response? In true Aussie form, it wasn’t a “yes,” and it wasn’t a “no.” In true American form, I’m interpreting that as a resounding “no.” Sorry, but I read He’s Just Not That Into You, and I think that probably still applies no matter which continent you were born in.
And so, when my battered pride/ego/whatever and I sign up for the Aussie equivalent of Match.com, I will simply consider this a failed experiment (that I probably set up poorly and took too far), and will pathetically accept the assistance of the tool that keeps a roof over my head. But you bet your ass I’m waiting until after Valentine’s Day before I set that shit up. I bet there’s a massive influx of desperate singles on February 1st. I may be single, but I am not desperate, despite this most recent performance.
And next time, I’m aiming for an English guy – word on the street is they’ll follow you around like a bad smell.
Onto the next disaster, xoxo!