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A few credit card details later and I get a congratulations email telling me that I am ‘live’. I have almost planned my outfits and picked my diary dates. Desperate in Delvin*, 62 sends me a virtual wink and then, another. Kinky in Kinnegad, 72, sends me a message saying that he thinks I’m sexy.
I opt for a discreet photo, after I Instagram it to death. But the allure of a meal in a restaurant, with a man who isn’t related to me, is calling me.
As I thanked him and made to leave he begged me (hands in prayer) to stay for another coffee. " The point is, it's terrifyingly easy to build a rapport with someone online, particularly if you have shared interests, but there's no substitute for real world chemistry.
I asked him if he would join the conversation and he said we'd start with a clean slate. Approach online dating like the rest of social media - it should supplement, serve and enhance real life as opposed to replace it.
This online dating starts to feel like the nightclub I used to go to where drunken guys would do the rounds, staggering past every girl at closing time looking for someone, anyone for a goodnight kiss.
Gorgeous in Galway, 31, is actually drop-dead gorgeous and I wonder why the hell he is internet dating and more to the point, why he is looking at my profile? Ego in Ennis, 51, (and another of the faceless crew), insists that he has provided plenty of information about himself on his profile and that if I had read it properly, I would ‘clearly see’ that he would provide photos by email. He has Donald Trump hair to match the inflated sense of himself presented in his profile.
Some respond saying that they appreciate the reply and one man telling me that my response was the nicest rejection he had ever received.Before that, I had dabbled with internet dating on and off for several years, mainly out of curiosity.I had met guys from all walks of life - teacher, actor, IT manager, journalist, music PR, and countless others. They mean well, but I feel like an ageing horse, getting my teeth checked, to see if there is any life left in the old nag.Within minutes, I swear, minutes, guys send messages saying that they want to meet me. I’d like to send him a virtual slap of a hand bag, but there isn’t such an icon.