Looking for Love - One Night Fivesome

Looking for Love is a 4 part set of short stories about relationships in general and the individual characters' experiences with their search for love.

Looking for Love - Party of One

One-Night Fivesome

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If you've ever felt the pressure of needing to bring a date to that next big company barbeque or family wedding, then you've probably experienced the horror of those "new and improved" dating websites. After all, who has never seen at least one advertisement, right? "Offering longer-lasting, happier relationships than any other dating site out there." And dating sites aren't just the next big fad; more and more people find themselves using these sites as a primary source of starting a new relationship in their otherwise busy lives.

 

Whatever happened to singles bars, or meeting a date through a friend of a friend? Such casual encounters are a rarity as generations take to the internet in hope of finding their next great romance or hot one-night stand.

 

Schools aide these dating sites and internet hookups by instigating strict "no touching" policies, even amongst friends, for fear of offending an ever growing faction of adults who think that “all touching is bad touching”.

 

The drawbacks of a society that advocates such a lifestyle of private affection and shame-intimacy are a younger generation with a diminished capacity for intersocial and interpersonal interactions and relationships (wow, that’s an interesting lot of inter- words), resulting in an alarmingly high number of new and improved serial offenders, and children with heightened sociopathic tendencies.

 

Okay, maybe it’s not quite that extreme yet, but you never can tell with the internet these days.

 

On another note, internet brainwashing has continued to encourage our youth to screen potential dates with their handy how-to guide titled “Hacking for Dummies �" Checking Out Your New Boy-Toy’s Skeletons".  True to its words, the guide comes complete with lines of code for simple hacking and a lead-in to harder hacks, that is if you are smart enough to actually understand anything it tells you.

 

Meanwhile, an ever shrinking population of internet idiots are left hopelessly loveless as they continue to cruise now empty singles bars and act as the blind dates for their best-friend's-significant-other's-undatable-fifth-cousin (twice removed) Albert. And its not hard to see why Albert is so undatable during dinner, when he does something truly horrifying or disgusting or whatever other imaginable and/or unimaginable things he might do before his bony, grabby hands and creepy, leering eyes turn you off of men forever. You make this vow aloud of course, and you’re now being set up with great aunt Mary's cousin's niece. You know. The one with the unibrow, crooked teeth, and perpetually runny nose. She reminds you (unnervingly) of cousin Albert and you realize why when you find out over Sunday dinner that they're siblings.

 

Scary, isn’t it?

 

It sends shudders up the spine of every woman who has ever experienced the horror of a relative trying to set her up. After the shuddering passes she inevitably turns to the internet and its unlikely promise of "happiness guaranteed", because hey, anything has to be better than Albert and his sister. Right?

 

Wrong.

 

You're already into your eighth first date before you come to the inevitable conclusion that the internet is evil, you’re an idiot, and all of those Smart Technology Compatibility Matching questionnaires are a lie. Of course, this realization only comes about when Larry the Lethargic's sweaty, beefy bear paw clamps down on your thigh and begins mauling you under the table. You wonder in horror just how in the name of all that is good, or bad, or bloody sane did the supposedly “smart” technology think you and Bear Paws Larry would be compatible while you excuse yourself (none too politely) to the lady's room so you can sneak out the too-small window. You curse yourself for a fool for not taking the hint when the 'net served you up to Ronnie the Raving Whining Teenager during your last "date". Or the time before that when Mr. Metal took you for his next piercing... Straight through his penis. It's so great that at least now you know what a Prince Albert is. Not. Which brings us back to the Albert who set all this in motion in the first place, and to your final conclusion: you’re giving up on the human race altogether. Might as well just get a pet rock instead.

 

So, you drive yourself to the closest liquor store you can find where you buy yourself your next four men, who will no doubt be more favorable than every other creep that everyone else keeps choosing for you. And once you make your way home, you hop onto that evil entity known as the internet and update every profile you have.

 

Morning comes late with a nasty hangover, and a half dozen missed calls light up your phone, dozens more lighting up your antiquated computer screen. You squint at the screen and try to figure out why everyone is sending you messages about sex addiction, therapist sessions in your community, and "OMG! ARE YOU OK?"'s before your glaringly bright, brand new status fills your burning, gritty eyes and tries to sift through the fog and jack hammers in your head.

 

"To hell with it! I'm going home with Jack, Jim, Johnny, and Jameson tonight!"

 

Your brain grinds to a halt. Your phone begins to vibrate again, horrifying realization dawning on you as you look down at the caller ID.

 

Mom.

 

Oh, crap!

Author's Note

This piece is still in the editing process so please let me know what you think.