Miss LonelyHearts’ Guide to Match.Com Or, “Like You, He’s Desperate!”

15 Jan

Miss LonelyHeartsIn case you haven’t had the pleasure of joining Match.Com, I am here to tell you how it works. And how it doesn’t.

The online dating service connects you to other people’s “profiles”  according to key shared characteristics. Like this: “You’re both dog lovers and non-smokers!” Or, “You both (claim) to exercise five times a week!”

Every  day one gets a message alerting one to a possible match, based on profound similarities: “You share a birthday month!” After years of trying to make relationships work on the basis of similar values, perspectives, lived experience, and physical chemistry,  Match teaches me to lighten up and go with the essential things:”Like you, he eats, sleeps, and defecates!”

dragonAt least *this* profile includes a photo. Imagine reaching out to someone for a date when you don’t know what they look like. BUT, then again, “Like you, he digs dining out!”

I’m something of an old-hand at Match.  Have I no shame, Dear Reader? First I admitted to getting injections in my face to look younger. . .and now to regularly having used an on-line dating service. (Not to mention defecating.)

Back in upstate New York, a good number of MatchMen profiles provide a standard shot:  Shirtless On Porch.  In L.A.,  standard shot:  Suit By Porsche. Here’s what both upstate New York and L.A. MatchMen share: whether they exercise once or seven times a week, whether they be Buddhist, Atheist, Spiritual But Not Religious,  Religious But Not Spiritual, or Other, no matter which income bracket they purport to be in, no matter whether Divorced, Separated, Never Married, Master Of Harem Looking For Fresh Subservience, or Other, they all: “don’t want drama” and “have no baggage.”

No baggage? To paraphrase Jake in The Sun Also Rises, “I distrust all good and simple people whose stories hold together.”  I choose guys who admit to a little baggage.  And mostly, my dates have been nice, smart, interesting men. One eventually turned out to be weird. . .but this is a family show so I can’t go into details. (Suffice to say, a man who references the Donner Party’s diet repeatedly during particular circumstances has missed out on certain rules of decorum.)

So, being on Match can be exhilarating–wow, in his profile this guy seems witty, smart, handsome, and employed!

It is also tricky–the morning after my date with Witty Smart Handsome Employed, I see he’s on Match. We had a great date and twelve hours later he’s  looking at other profiles. Ouch. Wait, why am *I* on Match after our date. . .? And does he see that I’m online?.  Will he think that I didn’t  like him, or that I am generally fickle, or that I am checking to see whether he’s on Match again? Am I?

But I shouldn’t worry–after all, we both “enjoy networking!”

I’m close to quitting, but keep thinking:  just one more day, one more profile. Before I join a Twelve-Step Match Recovery Group, I want to offer a few biased suggestions to MatchMen:

1) Reconsider “Spankyooo” as your profile name.

2) Don’t begin your self-description with “There is nothing I cannot do.”

3) The words “naughty,” and “hygiene,” especially in the same sentence, probably are to be avoided; this is the language of  psycho-killers.

4) Try not to quote Richard Nixon.

5) If you are going to identify the scent of a woman as one of your “favorite things,” spell “scent” with a “c,”  not: “sent.”  Of course, the “sent” of a woman is an incredibly cool notion, and if it really is one of your favorite things, you must have read a bunch of Heidegger and Irigaray. Like you, I dig Theory!

Halloween couple

I have concluded that looking for an appropriate man on Match is like trying to find a needle in a haystack…while seeing the forest for the trees. Wearing oven mitts, blinders on. (Like a lot of folks, I “enjoy mixing metaphors!”) Important for me to appreciate how rich is my life without a romantic partner:

I bite Nicolle

Day of the Dead Noah and me

me writing

And then there’s always the loyal presence of my secret friend. . .Let’s call him Diedrick.

Duncan and me Like me, D enjoys some laziness, a little leash, a lot of lap. He never uses “naughty,” and “hygiene” in the same sentence, although both are concerns of his. And he “digs theory” (in theory).

Signing off, Dear Reader–I’ve got profiles to check! Please share with me a funny thing you did to meet the man/woman of your dreams–without quoting Richard Nixon.

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6 Responses to “Miss LonelyHearts’ Guide to Match.Com Or, “Like You, He’s Desperate!””

  1. elainemansfield January 17, 2014 at 3:32 am #

    Once upon a night in 1966, I didn’t leave the party with the guy who drove me there. He had a motorcycle, but he still didn’t turn me on. He didn’t know I was using him as a taxi to get to the party at Vic’s house. It was late.I planted myself naked in Vic’s bed while everyone left, including the embarrassed motorcycle guy. Vic loved a surprise. Then I stuck around for a few days and years and made him fall in love with me.
    I haven’t had time to do this looking for love thing again and have never looked at a dating site. I feel a little lust arise when I’m around certain men. I check out the left hand. Almost invariably a wedding ring. But I have my pooch Willow who loves to take long walks in the woods and sit by a fireplace on a snowy night. Don’t the guys on Match.com say they want those same things? If they don’t, they should.
    I could not spend ten minutes with a man who admired anything at all about Richard Nixon or the Koch Brothers. Love this, Ms. K.

    Like

    • kwasson2012 January 17, 2014 at 6:25 pm #

      Love the line, “He had a motorcycle but he didn’t turn me on.” Thanks for sharing this funny and lovely story. Here’s to Willow!

      Like

  2. Mary Holland January 19, 2014 at 3:39 am #

    “Like me, he enjoys some laziness, a little leash, and a lot of lap,” is, in my opinion, your best line so far in this textual journey. Also, no wonder you and I get along so well (though I like my leash looooooooooooong). Now, I’ll play: stupid thing I have done to meet a man–serial middle-of-the-night drunk pool in the Rice commons (it never worked). Seemingly stupid thing I did to meet a man–eharmony (who can account for the strangeness of the world?). xxxxM

    Like

    • kwasson2012 January 19, 2014 at 5:25 pm #

      SEEMINGLY.
      Thanks for commenting, Mary! A drunk pool. . .trying to picture that. I’m too old.

      Like

  3. Robin Botie January 22, 2014 at 2:01 pm #

    Thank you for reminding me about why I am not trying online dating services again. Cheers!

    Like

    • Kirsten Wasson January 22, 2014 at 4:02 pm #

      It does make for . . .amusing musings. Gotta say I got *something* out of it! Thanks for reading, Robin!

      Like

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