IN WHICH I CONSIDER THE UNWELCOME DELIVERY OF A PACKAGE.
Sequence of Events:
1. Attractive man messages me in online dating site.
2. Attractive man and I chat amicably on dating site.
3. Attractive man and I move to exchanging cell numbers in order to text.
4. Attractive man, with connection made and a face-to-face date imminent, suddenly sends me a dick pic.
5. Unattractive man is summarily blocked by me, with or without a side dish of “Really?” or “Gross!”
Since I’d last participated in dating many moons ago, texting has become one of the biggest upgrades to the dating toolkit. Beyond the normal communication involved in texting, of course, has been sexting, with its hallmark phenomenon, the good ol,’ heartwarming dick pic: the ultimate selfie of TMI.
The dick pic has not only been made possible, but aided and abetted by this new medium empowered by impersonal cyber connection and its emboldening anonymity factor. But what compels perfect strangers to drop all pretense — and drawers — and fast — is one of the riddles of today’s dating protocol.
We must not consider this necessarily a current inclination, though, because given the opportunity, men may well have been dick picking us long before texting made it possible. However, I do feel the rampant, blasé attitude towards exposure goes hand in handjob with a generation raised on Internet porn: millennial males are beyond sexually jaded, at least in terms of what they’ve seen. I mean, the jaw drop which Deep Throat inspired in me is available 24/7 — for the mere price of a virus — to any young child at an unsupervised computer.
Combine this daily serving of visuals with the audio soundtrack of X-rated mainstream music, and when it comes to sex, the cheap thrills have been cheapened to the point of a truly bargain basement numbness.
And so, it would seem, the numb nuts just don’t know any better.
Yours truly,
