Normally, I don’t get fooled by this stuff. Looks like the dating site bots are getting better and better. This latest one wasn’t “far too attractive” or young to be interested in me, didn’t type 200 WPM, and even referenced a local bar before hitting me with the spam link to a malware site. I honestly don’t know how they’re going to ever slip that last one past the average person. Any time someone has to “Log Out of Tinder” (which I’m not even sure you can do) to drag me to a site I’ve never heard of (and I’ve heard of them ALL), it’s going to throw up big red warning flags. So, I guess, keep trying, Panamanian hacker dude. Maybe if she actually went on a date with me and told me to go to the link after dinner or something, then I would. Until then, back to the drawing board.
It got me thinking though. When I was a kid, ELO’s “Time” album was one of my favorites — still is. I looked forward to seeing it’s cautionary tale of the distant 21st century come true; dreaming of the day when we’d all have robot girlfriends who answered to our beckon call, just like in the song, Yours Truly, 2095. Instead, we have squandered our gifts, our intellect, and our technology making robot women who really aren’t any less self-involved and conniving than their organic counterparts. Come on future humans, save my generation from it’s own shortsightedness!
I used to open all on-line dating site conversations with “You’re in the desert, walking along in the sand when all of the sudden you look down, and you see a tortoise…” I stopped doing that … well … because that level of geekiness tends to freak human girls out. Now, I think I’m going back to using it it, though. There may yet be the one in a million girl who gets that reference, or will at least care enough to Google it. I’m reasonably certain we could hang on a personal level and not be too bored with each other.
