Casper was a friendly ghost, wasn’t he? I’ve never thought of ghosts as spooky or mean or much of anything really. But, right now, I’m feeling like I’m gonna call Ghostbusters. Not on my behalf but for all the earnestly hopeful single folks, wishing for a date, a connection and maybe something more.
God knows, I lingered in the dating pool long enough to feel my already fragile self-esteem elbowed, kicked and otherwise roughed up.
“You’re nice but…no.”
“Not into redheads.”
“No fireworks.” (It was coffee. At three in the afternoon.)
My mother, and presumably everyone’s mother, instilled in me from a young age, If you don’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all. I’d like to think that, with an obvious exception for siblings at least through the teen years, I’ve done a good job of sticking to that maxim. But I’m going to add another exception: dating apps.
Whoa, now. Hear me out. I’m not advocating for people to get ugly, to lash out and to coddle their own declining self-esteem by spouting some cheap digs against another dude that dared to woo. Here is where I’d offer some freebie slams about hygiene, ripped jeans and people named Gene. (Surely he’s got a middle name.[1]) But, nope. Not going to aid and abet. I still ascribe to the general rule of saying nothing In lieu of meanness.[2]
In this world where everything is boiled down to black and white, especially on social media—Swiftie or hater; guns or none; manscaper or bear—I continue to believe in gray/grey[3] zones. I don’t think it’s necessary to engage in all dating app prompts. I suppose it’s okay not to respond to someone who sends the first message. Sure, you created a profile and you might even pay to be on the app, but we all know that there are impossibly good looking bots with sculpted abs[4] and people from foreign countries looking to jump the immigration queue by lurking on dating sites. A quick delete is permitted. Bots and wannabe citizens will message on, undaunted.
There are other unsolicited messages that may arrive as well. I remember glancing a new message, clicking on the person’s profile and feeling horrible. Dammit, this person put himself out there and messaged me, of all people. For whatever reason or, more likely, reasons, I know this is not a match.
I’m never going to click with someone who calls himself PokemonJoe. Nor with someone who has tufts of hair sprouting from his ears in his profile photo. And every other photo. (Not making that one up. His profile name referred to himself as a faun. Some things from years on dating sites are especially memorable.) Initially, I replied to most of these messages. Hey. Thanks for the message. I looked over your profile and I don’t see a match, but all the best to you. I stopped when people shot back another message, needing the last word. Sometimes the f-word was tossed in, but it certainly had nothing to do with sex.
So, yeah. You’re not a terrible person if you delete a message that you’d never specifically asked for. Maybe it’s the entrenched introvert in me, but no one has to be forced into a conversation, online or, heaven forbid, in person.[5]
I take issue, however, with disappearing acts that occur after you start a conversation or respond to a message. Ghosting is the easy out, but it’s rude. On Grindr or some other app that’s primarily about hooking up, ghosting may be common. Exchanges are transactional. Maybe there’s an urge and then it’s gone. Urge met in some other way, I presume. On sites that purport to be about actual dating, however, manners matter.
A couple of Evan’s closest friends are single and looking for one thing or another. One is perfectly content to Grind away. Lots of stories, short, never even a novella. His choice. The other friend is not averse to Grindr opportunities but also has an account on OkCupid, the dating site where Evan and I met. Last week, as we talked, he mentioned some early messaging with one guy but then said, “He unmatched me.” I’d heard him use the same phrase the week before.
Huh? From what I recall of that site, people are matched based on answers to questions they answer. Basic things like, “Do you smoke?”, “Do you like dogs?” and “Do you vote regularly?” There are other more specific (random?) questions with multiple choice answers: “Could you date a messy person?”, “Is it okay to lie?” and “If you were offered a slot to live the rest of your life on Mars, what would you do?” (Would someone decline to have coffee with a person because they might hypothetically move to another planet?) The dating site computes your match percentage.
How does someone then un-match? I’m gathering that unmatching is a new option for app users, disabling someone’s ability to message that person again. It seems harsh. It feels like an out for someone who doesn’t want to put on his big boy pants. I hated that the titular wizard in The Wizard of Oz hid behind a curtain and I don’t like the thought of someone ducking out of an ongoing conversation by hiding behind a button.
You start (or engage in) a conversation, you see it through. You may be communicating virtually, but you’re not a ghost.
Your mamma presumably taught you more nuanced etiquette beyond If you can’t say anything nice.
Sometimes you still have to say something. An exchange of messages, whether one or several, is a conversation. Do people ghost IRL while in the same physical space? The thought has occurred to me a couple of times. I could say I was going to the bathroom and just leave, through the window or, heck, through the main entrance. What’s the guy going to do? Chase me down?
“Hey, you forgot something: our conversation.”
Yeah, that would be awkward. Ballsy by him. It almost warrants a high five.
It's never come to that because I’ve never done the dash. I’ve sat through the conversation, politely sipping from my already empty coffee cup, nodding my head as it searches for a way to wrap things up. I’m polite to a fault. I’ve remained in a seat that should never have gone warm, but I’ve told myself that, if nothing else, there’s a story in every experience. Maybe something to tell a friend next time we grab a pizza, maybe something to blog, maybe an anecdote to keep to myself until it fades from memory.
That’s right. Take the slow fade over the quick disappearance. Either that or announce your exit. That goes for real life and it goes for online dating apps you willingly joined. Ghosting should never have become a common term. And, just because it’s out there, doesn’t mean it’s a dignified option. There are all sorts of other common terms—assault, spitting, alternative facts—that one should never adopt.
I’m sure some online-savvy folks think I’m out of touch.[6] Etiquette is so 20th century, if not 19th. Let Emily Post, Miss Manners and me step aside a moment as I refer to a January 7, 2024 New York Times article entitled “Here’s How to Declutter Your Dating Life.” Under the subheading BEWARE OF GHOSTING, Nick Fager, a licensed mental health counselor, notes that ghosting may be necessary if something dishonest or dangerous arises in messaging but otherwise believes that “closing the circle, when you are able to, can be restorative for both of you…The lack of closure can be emotionally exhausting on all sides.”
Think of when you’ve exchanged a few messages and then awaited the next reply only to never hear anything again. For a while, there’s still an anticipation, another quick log-in to check messages. Alas, none. What happened? Hit by a bus? Kidnapped? Had to act quickly to get that standby ticket to Mars? No. Another frickin’ Casper.
I know what the comeback is. You do the right thing and let someone down, respectfully saying you’re not sensing a connection or vaguely saying you don’t think this is moving forward (Fager suggests saying, “This doesn’t feel like a match” or just “Goodbye”). Then, the person messages some vitriolic reply, throwing insults at you and saying the equivalent to “You can’t fire me; I quit.” That’s possible but, in my experience it was rare. (Two times, I think.) That’s on them. You did the right thing. You can only control what you do and say. And, sure, that’s when you can go ahead and block, un-match or ghost Mr. Vitriol. Chances are he already did that immediately after sending the tirade. By then it doesn’t matter. Just be glad it never got to grabbing a coffee.
Please, take the high road. Save the ghosting for Halloween haunted houses. With the right person, maybe met online, that could be a fun date.
[1] No offense, Genes of the world. It’s a fine name. Keep it. Use it. I was just trying to work in a triple “gene” thread in an attempt to be funny. It fell flat, didn’t it? That’s karma for me bashing guys named Gene.
[2] I assume Trump had a mom. She must be rolling in her grave.
[3] I know either spelling is acceptable yet I continue to feel that picking one over the other will offend 40-60% of readers. Cue Alanis Morissette—Isn’t it ironic that people see things in black or white, even with the spelling of the color/colour that falls in between?
[4] That was a bot that messaged me in 2016, wasn’t it? People like Matt Bomer and Ryan Gosling don’t exist in real life and certainly don’t pine for guys like me. That’s not low self-esteem chiming in; that’s just having a solid sense of self.
[5] I’m 90% certain they created grimacing face emoji just for me.
[6] Case in point: my use of folks. I revised the sentence once already to replace fuddy-duddy with a reference to me being out of touch, but I didn’t want to give any false impression that I was hip.
