The Death of Dating
If you are single and old enough to have watched the entire original HBO series of Sex and the City before it became an edited for TV marathon on the E! network, you have probably started to hear the death rattle of traditional dating. Our old friend Dinner and a Movie is terminally ill, and our new friend Netflix and Chill has issued the DNR order.
As I wait for the golden age of courtship to hit code blue, I can’t help but wonder…how the fuck did we get here?
You can overthink and contemplate this question with your friends, create a colorful flowchart, or purchase a few self-help audiobooks from Amazon; but the explanation is painfully simple. We are assholes. We are tech-savvy, egocentric, listless assholes. But unlike Carrie, Samantha, Charlotte, and Miranda…I’m not blaming the fellas exclusively – ladies have achieved asshole equality when it comes to relationships.
We don’t know what we want, who we are, or where we are going. We are essentially self-centered squirrels chasing an elusive ball of tin foil that we don’t really want to catch. However, given the opportunity, we would have sex with that foil ball…because…shiny.
There was a time when geography and long distance telephone service limited romantic options. With the introduction of smartphones and online dating, we can fall madly in love with someone thousands of miles away…or we can at least fall in love with the idea of a long-distance soul mate…until someone stops returning DMs. Access to people and porn are free…and we are gluttonous, love sampling sonsabitches. We are swiping, matching, catching, releasing, and ghosting with astounding efficiency; on any given day, we can experience ten failed E-lationships before lunch.
Back in the old days, I had to wait seven whole days between SATC episodes…and four to six months between seasons. The romantic destinies of four imaginary women and their imaginary sex lives were suspended in an eternity of time…and I didn’t even have TIVO.
Meanwhile, in another decade - through the magic of Tinder-Flix and Bumble-Prime, we can binge watch an Emmy award-winning series, experience (or fake) multiple orgasms, and eat an entire pizza with a stranger all in one night.
Maybe I’m old fashioned or maybe I’m just old – but I think Sex and the City is better without censorship and commercials. I also think dates are better without sweatpants or a “You up?” text.
As much as I love how far we’ve come, I miss where we used to be. It’s a hell of a time to be alive, but a shitty time to be in love.