My ex has decided to venture out onto the treacherously slippery and turd-strewn path of internet dating+. Of course, I presume she means “internet dating” in the generally accepted sign-up-and-post-a-profile-and-see-what-happens sense, rather then the I-will-stalk-you-mercilessly-until-you-agree-to-go-out-with-me-or-die version.
I have mixed feelings about this.
Obviously, I was a tad bitter and twisted during the divorce. However, after the legal dust had settled, I was able to clear away some of the emotional debris cluttering up my psyche and I discovered that I still had a residual supply of genuine fondness towards her.
Consequently, I’m pleased that she is undaunted by the challenge ahead. However, I’ve also seen what passes for eligible bachelorhood in Port Elizabeth, so it’s with a degree of ghoulish glee that I look forward to hearing all the horror stories that this exercise will inevitably produce.
+ A walk on the wild oats side, if you will