Why I’m Still Single: An Investigation Nobody Requested

I’ve noticed that stories about the horrors of my dating-app experience get a bunch of views. Apparently, my romantic suffering is your entertainment.

You’re welcome.

I know what some of you are thinking because I have X-Men-like abilities:

“Niel, not only are your unique looks incredibly handsome, but you’re also smart, innovative, and funny! You CAN’T be single.”

It’s all true. Every descriptor. Thank you very much.

And yet, I am single.

Let me explain.

I’m not much for “game.” I don’t approach women in the grocery store and say, “Oh my, look at that sweet potato! Can you believe the amazing fries we could make with that?”

I know. Shocking. That line is basically irresistible.

I also meet women at recovery meetings who are smart, funny, and inspirational—and who have great heads of hair. But I’m not the kind of guy who will just roll up—we said that in the ’90s—to a shorty—also a ’90s reference—and say, “Let me holla at ya!”

Guess which era that one came from.

It’s simply not my style. In the interest of transparency, most of my real-life dates—the ones that didn’t begin with an app asking me to select my preferred radius—have been initiated by the woman.

So, ladies, the historical data is clear. Draw your own conclusions.

Anyway, I’m still trudging along. Apparently, “trudging” means moving forward with purpose, although it also sounds like walking through wet cement while carrying emotional baggage.

Either way, I’ll keep moving forward and see what Cupid has in store for the rest of 2026.

Hopefully, Cupid has improved his aim. And updated his profile pictures.