Confession time, readers. Your humble narrator has systematically dissected and sloppily stitched up dating sites for six months now, for fun and absolutely no profit, secure in the knowledge that, for speaking the truth, good karma would be my reward. Well, this is the part where you all metaphorically point and laugh. Last Saturday night, I went on my first date in over two years…with someone I met on a dating site. Let me just preface the following by pointing out that, of all the experiences I’ve had with dating sites, this was only the second good one, therefore I am still of the opinion that these sites only exist to bilk desperate people out of money and hard drive space. I am not writing this post to defend or endorse dating sites; my motivation this time around is to show that sometimes, not being so hands-on and actually relying on a little bit of serendipity has its benefits. I joined a dating site I will not mention the name of here in order to do some research for an upcoming post; (and given this particular site, it was purely for investigative purposes, I assure you). I chatted to quite a few guys, the majority of whom declared there illicit intentions right off the bat, which I respect, I have to admit. Most of them were married, which I’m sure I don’t have to tell you cemented my determination to keep my distance and view them as subjects rather than prospects. Then I got chatting to Nate. He was what you might call the control part of the experiment. Single, articulate, funny and polite, I still struggle to figure out what he was doing there. We chatted until the wee hours and I gave him my email address, thinking nothing would come of it. I woke up the next day to find an email from him, wanting to know if we could catch up. After tearing around the house for two hours, doing my best to disguise the fact that I live in a human petri dish, I called him and said yes. We went out for coffee and talked about everything from our kids to music to who our heroes were, and I have to be honest, I was pleasantly surprised. Physically, he was pretty much the polar opposite of what I’m usually attracted to. Not that he was unattractive – not by a long shot – he just wasn’t like anyone I’ve ever gone out with before. For one, he actually looked old enough to shave, but he didn’t. He had six o’clock shadow, if there is such a thing. That alone would normally be enough to immediately repel me, but this time it didn’t. This time, I found it rather alluring, possibly because Nate had a voice like a seventies disc jockey, which tied the whole manly aesthetic together nicely. We came back to my place for more coffee and, (please don’t judge me), not a drop of caffeine was ingested. Yes, dear readers, your humble narrator did the unthinkable and shed twenty four months of pent up tension in the space of twelve hours. He was a very sweet guy, and whether or not things progress any further is for the stars to say, but I’ve felt great ever since. Not just for the obvious reason – although it is an awesome feeling when one realises that all ones parts are still in working order despite the long time between servicing – but also because I didn’t log on in search of anyone or anything, and found it anyway. I think that goes to show that you shouldn’t see dating as a job; if you relax and look out the window occasionally, rather than plug away like a drone and watch the clock, you might get that little raise in confidence you need. One last thing; would it be utterly crass of me to crow about the fact that I broke the drought? Thought so. I BROKE THE DROUGHT! WOO-HOOOOOOOOOO!