POF Chronicles – The curious case of feminine products in the bathroom.
I’m taking a crack at online dating again and I’m still mulling over whether or not this suits my personality.
My profile is pretty hilarious, rife with my long-winded rants (because why not) and some goofy pictures to boot. I’ve had to block a few oddballs (who hasn’t) and I’ve gone out on a few unmemorable dates (one of which found me waiting for a half hour before the short angry man showed up). Why am I putting myself through this you ask? Because, for once, I want something uncomplicated and fun. I want to sit across from a near complete stranger and get to know them over a drink or plate of food and not argue about shared bills and the many minute irritations of cohabitation.
A conversation was had with the one man I’ve seen a few times now regarding intimacy and our personal experiences. Being that we’d made dinner for one another, he’d seen the inside of my apartment. He has been privy to my somewhat unorganized, not fully unpacked self. There was a point in our conversation in which he mentioned that (due to the existence of) certain items in my bathroom were seemingly contradictory to my narrative. I’ve had the chance to see where he lays his head at night, a room in a housing share. I’ve made no assumptions, nor will I ever about him as a person and the make up of his character based on this. His truth is what he’s choosing to share with me and I accept this at face value.
To the men of planet Earth, yes you. May I make a small suggestion? If you don’t know, ask. And never, never ever, never ever ever assume because it makes an ass out of you and trust me when I say this, you don’t need help in that department.