I’m only 9 days into this little “experiment,” but I have reached my first noticeable milestone: flirting is fun again. I’ve always liked flirting. I used to be really good at flirting, back in the day. Back before I stopped leaving my house. When I still enjoyed people being closer than 6ft to me. When I started dating again post-vaccine, I knew I was rusty that summer of 2021. I just said and did so many embarrassing things. One time a girl kissed me and I said, “Good stuff. Gang. Gang.”
I felt so out of practice with flirting and casual conversation, I dated someone for months just because I liked that I felt invisible around them. I could say nothing and they didn’t care. Sometimes, I felt like I could just disappear in that moment and they probably wouldn’t notice. Hell, I don’t even think they knew my actual name. I remember asking them how they felt about polyamory and monogamy. They asked me why? I said because I’m polyamorous (a fact that is clear on all of my dating profiles, social media, and if you listen to me talk about my past for at least 10 minutes), so maybe we should be on the same page? They were shocked: almost six months into our relationship, they had not noticed this about me or remembered that I ever said it.
I wasn’t even mad. I was just happy I could exist around someone who did not care to listen to me, Google me or show any interest in me. Sometimes you need that. Post-COVID solitude, this was a great way to ease back into being around new people. Obviously, now, I’m in a healthier place and I enjoy the company of people who, y’know, actually notice me, but at the time, that was what I needed.
Now that I’m actually forcing myself to date with intention, though? Oh god, flirting is necessary. Flirting over dating apps. Flirting over text. Flirting over a drink. It turns out I’m not the only person who got bad at flirting, though! I am running into so many people on the apps who simply do not know what they are doing! Often, men think flirting is just bragging about themselves or saying something way too sexual. Taking the time to actually find people I have e-flirt energy with has been helpful. And, it’s how I found my second date.
We met on Tinder! Another win for the app I’d stopped using! After a lot of texting, it felt like we were on the same page. We were both interested in dating with intention and it was clear no one was just trying to fuck. We made plans over text, but that didn’t stop him from also calling me to talk through the plans. Look, I am a young millennial, that means I hate when people over the age of 36 ask to speak on the phone with me. They always act like it’ll be so much faster, but it mostly just means I have to pause Below Deck to listen to you say something you could’ve typed. In the past, I’d pretty much stop engaging with anyone who called me without warning first.
Now, though, I’m trying to be more understanding and soft. Some people love to call people. Fine. Over the phone he reiterates: I’m not going to have sex with you on a first date. I say again: I never said I wanted to have sex. He says a lot of people are disappointed when he says that. Fair enough.
I drive to his place in Santa Monica (from Silver Lake…yeah, I am really putting myself out there, I know. This is effort) and it’s classic LA dating vibes: a man who got rich through tech or weed and Thinks You Should Be Impressed because money = inherently smart/good. These types will usually namedrop Joe Rogan or Andrew Tate in minutes. In this case, it’s Joe Rogan before I even take my coat off. And, hey, I respect people who work hard and are good with their money. It’s just that…well, I’m not gonna fall in love with you or want to be around you just because you have money.
That’s a shocking sentiment in LA where most people assume a house in the Hills comes with women to fuck. My mom, however, raised me to not be impressed by wealth. Once you get accustomed to rich people, you realize they’re just like everyone else. I could tell this guy would get a little irritated when I said things like, “What kind of car is this?” (it was some kind of fancy BMW, idk) or “Does your hot tub actually work?” (yes, he throws huge parties in his backyard ALL THE TIME).
Even that, I can tolerate when it comes to LA. Again, people work hard! Enjoy your expensive things and I’m sorry I don’t recognize them! But, when I mentioned I’m a writer and comedian, he said that he used to do the same. When he moved to LA almost a decade ago, he did stand-up for a few months and tried writing some scripts before moving on to tech. He offered to read my scripts and give notes on my set. I said I’d need to read and see his stuff before I could do that.
This seemed to shock him: that someone who has been a writer for almost a decade was not begging for the notes of someone with a year of experience. Couldn’t I see the inherent value in what he’d have to say because rich man? I guess, when people ask me what’s the worst part of dating in LA, it’s this.
After pointing that out, it was clear I’d hit every one of his insecurities on my way down to the friendzone. By the end of the night, he was calling me bro; we shot targets in his giant backyard with a bow and arrow, he finally believed I could smoke more weed than him and he taught me how to shoot a water pellet gun. Classic vibes for me and probably how I’ve made most of my male friends.
Overall? A pretty good time.