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Thirty-Five Fish

At the end of 2004, I had just turned 21, and had been recently dumped by my high-school girlfriend.  In between wallowing and distracting myself with endless commitments, I decided to try online dating.

Back then, in the days before smartphones, access to the internet meant plugging one end of a blue cord into your computer and the other into the wall.  From my desk, I created an account, adding a photo of myself in a pink halterneck dress.  I added my search filters (inner-city Melbourne, aged 18 to 25, ticked "reading" as an interest) and dozens of profiles appeared.

It seemed like magic: I told an algorithm what kind of partner I wanted, and the algorithm diligently introduced me to a range of people.  Having grown up in the 1990s, it really did feel like living in the future.

Within weeks, I had a new girlfriend: a PhD student who went to the same university as me.  My friends said she looked like Missy Higgins, and I didn't see the resemblance but was pleased nonetheless.

The relationship lasted eight months, after which time I again returned to the website to find someone new.  This continued, with varying degrees of success, for seven years.

In that time I met dozens of people.  Some dates were disastrous, some were lacklustre, and others were great.  I met one person who became my housemate, and is now the mother of my daughter's best friend.  Another became my regular Friday night drinking-and-dancing buddy for a while, before finding true love and getting married in Hawaii.  My sister and I flew over for the wedding.  It was delightful.

Despite my largely-positive experiences, I didn't really get used to the feelings of disappointment, rejection or guilt.  All three hit me quite hard as the optimism I felt about each person came to an end, whether after ten minutes or a year.  It was those feelings that dominate my memories of the dating scene.  

My poem Thirty-Five Fish is about some of the ways that these dates or relationships ended, through phrases spoken by the other person.  I admit I've taken a bit of poetic license.  Words are paraphrased and simplified, in some cases removing context that affects meaning.

Others occurred exactly as written.  

I really did decide to stop seeing someone after learning that she didn't separate out recyclables, and another after she admitted she hated puppies.

I also really did have someone pause halfway through dinner and say to me with concern, "you seem very queer?".  It was a confusing observation, given that we were two women on a date.  (What part of that would suggest I wasn't queer?)  I didn't know how to respond, other than with, "yes?", to which she replied with a disapproving "hmm", and that was the end of that. 

Thirty-Five Fish was published in Baby Teeth Journal in 2021, and can be read here: www.babyteethjournal.com/home/stephamir

For anyone wondering how the story ends, I met my current partner at a pub trivia night, where we were introduced by a mutual friend.  Unfortunately I ignored her because I was interested in someone else at the time, but we met again on an online dating site a few months later.

We've now been together nearly ten years and have two children together.  Thank-you, OkCupid!




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