August, 2022 | Songdo, Incheon, Korea

In 2022, meeting eligible single men for long-term, monogamous dating feels impossible, or as one friend phrased it, “like picking through trash.”

As I claw through the dating apps, a popular if not absolutely necessary tool to navigate the ever-expanding dating universe, many modern Millennials have resigned from the tomfoolery of finding a life partner, and for good reason. With their cold and indifferent algorithms, dating apps not only perpetuate shallow dating consumerism. They squeeze and crush the remaining bits of your hope and patience as they spit out some of the most delinquent daters.

At least that’s what I was sharing with friends one night over cocktails at our local pub. 

Sitting high in the bar’s rafters sat Jenny and Tom, a beloved pair of married friends that never make you feel like a third wheel.

Riveted but also horrified by their single friends’ dating blunders, Jenny inquired, “So what happened to the last guy you had matched with?” 

“Yeah,” asked our other friend Zephyr, a brilliant scientist on the verge of getting her Ph.D. and also shares her own trove of dating disasters. “He sounded perfect, funny, and smart. Didn’t he offer to drive up here and meet you in Songdo?” 

I nodded as I sipped on my gin and tonic. “Well, not to give away the ending, but he ghosted me two hours before our date.”

As my friends’ eyes widened I continued staring down. “I should have known better.“ Shaking my head, I looked up. “He had perfect abs.” 

“Awww,” cooed Zep and Jenny, nodding in agreement. 

With his eyebrows raised with curiosity, Tom smirked. “Wait, I don’t understand. What does perfect abs have to do with anything?”

“It’s one of the laws in the dating universe,” I explained. “I call it the Law of Perfect Abs.”

The dating universe, random and chaotic as it may feel, has fundamental laws that all singles learn from blunt observation and experience. 

In this case, according to the Law of Perfect Abs, a man with an Adonis, perfectly sculpted body will inevitable have the personality of what my dear friend calls “a shit sandwich.”  

Since perfect abs don’t occur in a vacuum, the equation goes like this: Perfect abs = bland dieting x the frequency of militant exercising –(minus)– time spent on mental and emotional development.

In essence, no matter how much a guy with perfect abs proclaims he reads or does anything remotely intellectually-stimulating, chances are his body is out-of-this-world stellar, but his personality is a black hole. 

This especially holds true if said guy casually shows off said perfect abs with unsolicited photos. Like the ancient Greek god Narcissus who forever gazed at his reflection in a pool of water, the modern Perfect Abs guy locks eyes with his own image in the text messages he frequently sends you.  

“And his abs,” I continued as I scrolled through my phone looking for a picture of him, “could grade a block of cheese!” 

“It’s true,” Jenny chirped. “She showed me his pictures and good lord you could rock climb those abs!” 

As my friends huddled around my phone’s screen, agreeing with our descriptions, Zep asked, “So what happened? Why did he ghost you?” 

I shook my head. “He had a problem with this picture I sent from Mel’s party. It was a pic of me and the guys.” 

Taking a gulp of my drink, I pulled out the picture in question. It was a casual group photo of me standing in front of our group of friends, who have been a part of my support system here in Korea. It just so happened that these friends were other guys. 

When Perfect Abs guy asked how my night was going, I had sent this picture in response. I wanted to convey that I’m social, have friends, and I’m not a party hermit. 

The next day, I woke up to a passive aggressive -and most likely inebriated- text message. 

Sitting up from my covers, I peered down at my phone. His text had been sent at the witching hour of 2am and read:

“My night was going great, drinking and having bbq with my friends, but when I told them I was driving to Seoul for a date with this girl and then when I went to our chat and they saw a picture of you surrounded by a bunch of dudes, it didn’t end so well.”

Instinctively I thought to myself, I’m a grown woman (who lives in Incheon, not Seoul). I take pride in having friends from different backgrounds, ages, genders, sexualities, and more. Plus, if the reverse were to happen, if he had sent a picture of him surrounded by women, I’d applaud him and think: Thank God! He has female friends he can talk to.

But then I remembered another important but frustrating principle in the dating universe: Forever in the Past Paradox. It didn’t matter that it’s 2022. Our dating hearts and minds are still very much out roaming on the hunter-gatherer savannah, and no twenty-first century dating app technology can filter out these primitive dating beliefs held by both men and women.

In this instance, the belief was that other males, no matter their intentions, are still considered threats and competitors when in a female’s territory. 

Frustrated by this, but knowing I had to be sensitive and delicately navigate this situation, calmly I started typing.

“I won’t explain myself,” I wrote, “beyond saying the guys in the picture are like my brothers. But if you really feel uncomfortable, and I say this in a calm and kind tone, I’d be happy to chat more about it.” 

Hours later when I should have received a standard “Hey, leaving from Pyeongtaek” text, I still received no communication from him. We had an hour until our meet-up, and my previous two texts hadn’t been read either. 

With that unpleasant sinking feeling in my stomach, I quickly checked the dating app. 

Shit, I growled to myself, Perfect Abs unmatched me! 

Now, I understand the controversial concept of ghosting, especially since it’s a common phenomenon in the dating universe. It’s your handy, much needed “ABORT MISSION” red button you can push whenever it’s clear that you won’t have a smooth landing on another person’s planet or vice versa. I confess, I too have clicked that red button when chatting with a guy, but never hours before a scheduled date. 

To that end, there is a law that I have carefully learned and now follow faithfully: The Law of Karmic Dating Juju. If you treat every interaction with kindness and respect, whether in person or on the apps, each party will carry forward better juju for the next person they meet. The idea is if more people walk away from interactions with their dignity intact, the less jaded and bristled we’ll feel, thus the more primed and energized we’ll be to actually date and take emotional risks. 

Instead then of ghosting, you offer a succinct but clear and kind message stating you don’t feel a connection, but you wish them the best of luck on their journey.

This law of course remains a theory, as evidenced by Perfect Abs guy and his lack of integrity to discuss his discomfort or at least officially cancel our plans. 

Back to the table with my friends, I appreciated their righteous anger, as I too felt astonished, if not downright perturbed, that a 42-year-old man could behave so poorly. 

“Literally,” Jenny bellowed, pounding her fist on the greasy bar table and almost knocking over her drink, “are we living in the fifteenth century?!” 

Tom, looking equally alarmed, quickly trailed Jenny’s exasperated reaction. “Yeah!” he howled as he cocked his head in disgust. “I can’t believe he didn’t even say anything! Sooo rude!” 

Zephyr, looking up from her cocktail, let out a high-pitched “What a mother fucker!” letting each syllable ring with a sweet bounciness that paired well with her Persian accent and rage. 

“It’s alright,” I assured my pals, now giggling around the table at the absurdity of the situation. I lifted my gin and tonic and continued. “When moments like that happen, all I can do is say ‘Thank you, Universe, for having my back’ and saving me the trouble from having to meet this guy in person.” 

As our chorus of cheers and the sound of glasses clinking rang in my ears, I sat back wondering, does the universe have our backs? 

As I’ve mentioned before, the dating universe feels random and chaotic, and if it really did have our backs, then one would argue: it wouldn’t have dropped ghosting Perfect Abs boy in my dating app queue in the first place. 

Sipping my cocktail, I knew though that I had agency in this, as I actively swiped right on this guy despite knowing better with the Law of Perfect Abs (for which he had a foreboding shirtless photo in his collection of profile pictures).  

Maybe that’s the lesson then. If you do decide to enter and explore the dating universe, you can have all the shiniest gadgets and gear – dating apps, cute cocktail dresses, shiny lip gloss- to navigate the rough terrain and attract potential mates, but they’ll never compare to your best instrument: your intuition. 

That, of course, and closely followed by friends who’ll be there to laugh and cheer you on after a failed launch.