Anyway.
A few years ago, a good friend at university introduced me to a chat site called Omegle. For any among you not aware, this site allows you to chat with complete strangers, remaining anonymous yourself, as well. How much, or how little, you reveal and/or lie is entirely up to you.
At first, I kept it on 'Shuffle', essentially. Chatted with a girl about Gorillaz one time, discussed American food versus English in another, had an in-depth analysis of 2K's Bioshock (THAT was an excellent one)
This occurred only a few times, scattered throughout university when I was bored/on my laptop anyway/practising my writing skills by being different characters = always fun. But only in more recent times, within the last year or so, I started to use it to chat with people with similar tastes. To put a much finer point on it, people of the same sexuality as myself. To put a lethally fine point on it, other gay guys. The site allows you to do that, by typing in key words before starting a chat. I used to put "video games", "music", "science fiction", etc. Only by putting 'gay' in that little box did the conversations become a little more...erm...eventful.
But in so doing, I also enter what I always call "The Dark Side of the Internet." For those brave or stupid enough to dig down, past the shopping, social media and cat videos, where you will find a civilisation that lays buried for a reason. (Though sometimes, you don't have to dig for very long...) Here you find the sex-talkers, the picture-swappers, the stalkers - I know there are much murkier, much more dangerous levels below these and never venture there. Omegle can be more than enough. It has the type of online person that we're always warned to avoid, but sometimes you just have to find out for yourself. And brother, I have learnt much.
A great number of Omegle users like to use it to swap profiles on social media apps like Kik, Snapchat or Skype. In fact if I had a pound for every new chat that starts with the other person asking "Kik?", I'd had enough to buy a new laptop. If I then got another pound for when they leave after saying "No" I'd have enough to buy a better internet connection.
I did actually get Kik a little while later, and already had Snapchat, to swap details and keep the conversation going. Out of curiosity, or genuine naivety. But so, so, SO often, I'd be left bitterly disappointed. What started out as a decent chat that could've led to a possible new friendship, turned to their one-sided hormone-driven plea to see what lurks between my legs. I watch, and always decline, as these people beg, grovel or in some cases demand these pictures, videos, poses and action from you. A sense of entitlement, perhaps? Or pure, deep desperation?
I can only feel sorry for them. Whatever they are - desperate, lonely, sick, twisted - I just pity them. I have been single for a fair few years now, and I know that the resolution sure as hell doesn't lie between a camera lens, a ;) face and the contents of your underpants.
Of this experience, two stand out. One was a guy, who'll remain unnamed, who for a while was actually okay. We'd chat about books, work and general life at our age. Occasionally he'd mention swapping pictures - mentions which became more and more frequent as time went on, until I blocked him two weeks after adding him.
Another was on Kik. We transferred from Omegle to there and his first response was a picture of his nether regions. My first response was the 'Delete Chat' button.
This sort of behaviour led to some rather blunt replies of my own. Now, whenever someone on Omegle asks if I want to add them on an app, I normally ask if they're a pic-swapper, or just sometimes "Sexchat or Regular?" Their answer shapes my own.
That's one experience. Another I've had ,at the other end of the homosexual-rainbow-spectrum, is a type that causes pity in a heartfelt way, not a "Christ, why is he telling me how many guys he'd slept with?" kind of pity. I've had multiple chats along these lines:
Me: Hey
Them: Hi there. Are you gay?
Me: Yeah, why?
Them: I am too. Do you know how I cure myself of being gay?
It's the sort of question that drops a dead weight through your heart and into your stomach. You may or may not be surprised to know that a lot of these come from guys in America. I do hope that the recent marriage legalisation has improved things.
I always do what I can; explain that it's natural, it's nothing to hide and the blame lies with parents/society etc. I played the part which I came to call "Gay Guru" so often. I can't say for sure if I ever helped them. But I tried, and I think that even for a short while, they felt happier, more accepted. I take comfort in that. It's far, far better than nothing.
(And far, far better than some Indian guy asking what you'd like to do to him *shudders*)
A further, third experience, known as the Deserters. These are actually slightly worse than the sex-driven lunatics. Because these ones actually are good conversations, you're not turned away at the first hurdle. You'll have similarities, understandings, dare I say, a good laugh. Then you'll exchange app details - usually Kik, again - and the chat will go on. It can start to fade at this point, varying between slightly or a lot, but at least they're not showing you their other end. Rather, you may exchange a perfectly natural, innocent, face picture. And then, very often, the conversation at their end dies, no different than if they were chatting with you and then fell down a pit. No matter how enjoyable your chat was, or how your personality came across. If you don't look good on camera, you aren't worth it, apparently. Which, I have to say, is a fantastically powerful kick in the confidence. At least it makes things agonisingly simple - you know that they're not interested and you know that they're not the right
And then, the fourth and final kind that I've come across. The Good Kind. A good chat in an ocean of idiots, a chat you nearly gave up on finding. You'll connect, something about it just clicks, even after the face-pic-swap (and you breath a sigh of relief that you managed to look halfway decent, at the exact point you switched to front-camera.) It doesn't necessarily result in a relationship and to be honest nothing about the whole thing says it even has to. But when you've gone from troll to sex-chat, disappointment to repulsion to reach this new person, the main thing is, you've made it.
A welcoming island in that ocean of insanity. A brand new friendship where there wasn't one beforehand. I've only found one of the Good Kind, so far.
This one's for him =]
-Robert
