Living in the Bermuda Triangle of Dating

I think I’ve moved right into the middle of the Bermuda Triangle of the dating world.  So not only is this tiny town one of the most boring and depressing places to live, it also causes one to lose any hope of ever having a decent dating life.  Since I’ve lived here a few specific things have caused me to believe this.

  1. The quality of men is well below average, and by “men” I refer to those in an age bracket of 18 to 55 and single (not separated or “it’s complicated”, whatever the hell that means).  I’m sure that for the women who have grown up here or in a 100 mile radius, the “quality” is just fine, but for someone like myself, it’s just not plausible to have a relationship with any of them.  The men here are either extreme rednecks, religious nuts, creepy in a “what are you hiding in your basement?” kind of way, or just your average meth-heads.
  2. The other things I’ve noticed is that even when I try to bring one in from out-of-town, the only one’s willing to come here to meet me are from here originally.  That’s a problem because even though they may really like me, once they mention me to their family or friends, they are warned to stay away, and they are never to be heard from again.  Evidently my father’s reputation follows me even in his absence.
  3. As I said above, the only men willing to come here are from here originally.  The ones in nearby cities that I’ve talked to seem to disappear before even meeting me.  I’ve had several men who I’ve talked to and thought might pan out into at the very least a promising date, but then they just…disappear.  Normally I wouldn’t find this odd.  It happens a lot in the online dating world, but not to all of them.  Even the ones who were eager to go out with me seem just vanish without a trace, and without reason or explanation.

So my dating efforts have come to a complete halt.  I decided not to waste any more of my time or energy on trying to meet someone here because I doubt very much that I’ll be here for much longer.  My sister and I have decided to give up the fight and just let the house go.  We can’t afford to keep it ourselves, and as usual, the Preacher isn’t helping any.  We gave it our best, but it’s just not going to ever work.  Unless we can sell the house and land within the next sixty days or so, the bank will foreclose and we will have to move out and move on.

Personally I’ll be so happy to get out of this house and this town before it sucks the life and joy completely out of me.  I’ve never lived in a more depressing, corrupt, dismal place.  To outsiders it may look like Mayberry meets Little House on the Prairie, but in all actuality it’s just the entrance to hell guarded over by corrupt, backstabbing, gossiping, hypocritical, right-wing, white-collar drug dealers and murderers.  Sound a little over dramatic?  I’m sure it does.  The truth is usually far worse than fiction though.

Happy humping!

3 thoughts on “Living in the Bermuda Triangle of Dating

  1. Pingback: Date Night | Confessions of a Preacher's Daughter

  2. Pingback: Old Habits Die Hard | Confessions of a Preacher's Daughter

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