The Curse of the One Man Woman

For most of my life I have been "cursed" by being what I like to call the "one man woman". I don't fancy many men at a time and I find it hard to even take an interest in men that I don't think would have any interest in me. A display of low self-esteem? Maybe, but I like to see it as being more "realistic" than anything. I've never made out with a random stranger in a bar. I've only ever dated one man for less than a month. I'm a serial monogamist, I suppose. It's not out of distaste or disapproval. I've just never been the girl that any guy with more than six brain cells wants to make out with at a bar and I'm fine with that.

But lately I've been sort of envious of the "one + one = thirty" women. The ones that will cozy their needy egos up to men who are practically (or literally) strangers and lock their face onto his. Because, let's be honest, when you've been single for a while, sometimes all you want to do is makeout with a stranger. There's something mysterious and awesome about having the power to see someone you like and taste their saliva for fifteen minutes at a time. What sick practices we humans engage in.

Will I ever be this type of woman? Probably not. You figure that around 30, you're pretty locked into your own mindsets. Do I really want to be that type of woman? Probably not. You figure that around 30, your prospects of making a human connection that doesn't involve saliva are slim to none in a bar setting.

So where does a "one man woman" meet a man who doesn't need the menu read to him? Or a man who isn't so quick to grind his genitals on you as a way to say "I find you attractive". Or a man who can speak in more than slurs. A bar is not the place.

The ritual of dating has become a lost art. I've been taken on very few dates in my life, despite having had a few serious relationships and a few passing boyfriends. The practice of wining and dining your date has long since been put to rest, and frankly that's relieving. There's nothing more awkward than first date small talk.
Except getting your period unexpectedly.

So where does the practice of dating go from here? Are we all just destined to be the "one man woman"/"one woman man"/"one man man"/"one woman woman", etc.?

Or are there still nice people out there who at least want to wait until they know your name and can say it coherently before they press their genitals into your hip to say they find you attractive?