A friend of mine suggested I devote a post to internet dating, but the very thought of it depressed me. Why? Because internet dating depresses me. The whole thing is sad. There are hundreds of thousands of people out there, wonderful people, with lots to offer. Good cooks, great lovers, wonderful parents; men and women who, given the chance and right circumstances, would make a terrific partner for some lucky person. So they sit themselves down and do their best to sell themselves in so many words or pictures, then sit back and are judged on their likes and dislikes, their income and weight, and their spelling and grammar. Some people lie, and some people neglect to share important bits of information about themselves, and some people are covered head to toe in tattoos and are recovering meth addicts who use to weigh 490 lbs. But most of them are just lonely, and hopeful, and a bit desperate to be happy, and I hate being one of them.
However, since I was sent an email today with a rather innocuous-looking collection of photos of single gentlemen, I figured there was no time like the present. Plus it meant I could sneak in another post today. Check me out!
So here. Let’s look at my latest offerings. Luckily I did not have to weed anyone out immediately due to an unfortunate hat (cowboy, top, or crown), hand puppet, or inclusion of latest kill in their profile pic.
I only trust two people out of all these guys. Can you guess which two? No cheating. Write down your guesses on a piece of paper before we begin. Look, it's like a little game, how exciting. You didn't think you'd get all this from my blog now, did you. If you don’t have a piece of paper, feel free to use whatever’s handy. Old receipt, dirty napkin, used tissue, I’m not particular. And now you’re starting to understand more about why I’m using online dating.
Alright, ready? Let’s break it down, starting with Top Left.
First of all, we’ve got Non-Smiler, Slightly Angled. He is trying to show he’s serious, but a little wacky, I guess. He dropped out of a PhD program and hasn’t found much more motivation since, apparently. He lists his favorite shoes. He shares a foot fungus story. If you are wondering why his main photo is one where he isn’t smiling, well, the photos where he IS smiling are worse because he looks like a serial killer. He plays guitar (DEATH! Why do guys on internet dating sites think this is hot to girls?! Is it 1962 again?!). Let's move on quickly, the foot fungus story was the highlight here.
Next up is My Future’s So Bright, My Face is Eating My Sunglasses. He wants to know if you are ready to submit your “flight plan” (his air quotes, not mine). I give him kudos for having the balls to list the Spin Doctors under his musical faves, but then take the points away because now I’ll have that shitty song in my head for the rest of the weekend. I take more points away because he lists ‘the smell of a woman’ as one of the things he couldn’t live without and I went ‘ewwwwwww’ in my head. Obviously he doesn’t know what a woman really smells like. He has a realistic age range, so he got points back, and we actually had a fair amount in common as far as TV shows and that kind of stuff. I was searching his quiz answers, wondering why he was hiding behind the shades and therefore setting off my alarm bells when I found the answer – this dude does NOT like the fatties. No ma’am, not one bit. Therefore we shall keep going.
Finishing off the top row with a snazzy black and white photo op is Mr. GoodFellow. Mr. GF does not realize how many guys online have online profiles where they are nicknamed ‘GoodFellow’ or variations thereof. The worst ones are the ones like ‘Ilovemykids’. You know, I didn’t call myself ‘BigTits’ or ‘WillHelpYouMove’. Ugh. Bait. I hate bait. So anyhow, Mr. Marketing Himself here with his Glamour Shots photo is 40, but looking to date someone between the ages of 32-39, so sadly I’m out of his age range. He’s a short, balding Christ-fearing man who does not drink. Quite the catch, George Costanza, I’ll be crying into my drink all night over the loss. With my gorgeous, luxurious hair.
Moving to the middle row and Dude with Dog – Now, this is a good one. Innocent-seeming enough, 43 years old, Research Scientist, likes playing World of Warcraft. Married. Polyamorous. Looking for some more friends to play games with. I just knew something was off with that one. If you picked him for me – SHAME ON YOU. SHAME!
Ok, Mr. Middleman. He’s one of the two I trusted. Ummmm... yeah. I have nothing bad to say about him. I would propose to him tonight if I could be sure I could get him on the phone. I'll work on that one. I even like his shirt.
Phone Dude – He looks like he’s in an AT&T commercial for Unlimited Nights and Weekends. Look how happy he is, talking all he wants, free from worry about paying for those nights and weekends. In his profile he talks about how he likes to ‘smile at babies’ TWICE, just in case you missed it the first time, so you know he’s sincere. He’s a lawyer, so the high-maintenance catalog-looking photo may be real. Says he likes chick flicks. Mentions his 3-lb Maltese an awkward amount. Uses the word ‘metrosexual’ and you can hear the pride in his voice. My lifestyle upset his lifestyle just by reading his profile. I can't even be angry. Look at him! Sell me something!
Bottom Left is the total opposite. This is the other dude I trusted, 41, looking for women 28-42. He’s a Jew who loves his 5-year old little girl and has a couple of dogs. He makes a decent salary. He’s a bit of a schlub but I respect that. Not a lot there for us, but at least he’s not going to try to vacuum me with a dust buster, or make me give him a blow job to the Spin Doctors.
That brings us to Bottom Row Middle, and I just have to heave a heavy sigh when someone’s profile starts out with, ‘I am a paradox in many ways’. In his other pic he’s wearing a Superman t-shirt. He’s 40, looking to date women 25-40. Scratch that, not looking to date, looking for ‘activity partners’. *sigh* again. I bet most of you would have picked this one for me, right? Kinda nerdy, you thought you had this one pegged. Nope, I knew this one was trouble. That smile is too eager, it's dangerous. Guess what – he also likes DESSERT! This type would shyly ask you if you wanted to take a shower with him, then you’d turn around and he’d have an empty beer bottle in his hand. True story. Horrible, true story.
Aw, Grandpa! Hurray, I’m in his 40-53 age range! This is a great example of the kind of guy who is always messaging The Ta. The old dudes LOVE The Ta. Sadly, his profile has been updated that he is currently dating a cute blonde, so he is off the market. Of course. See, all the good ones are taken. He’s so precious. His profile says he’s trying to learn Crystal Reports, and that he likes fresh tomatoes and biscuits. I seriously giggle when I get messages from guys like this because it feels so wrong. I’m like, 28 in my head. That is just gross. Then I sober up and want to die, and look longingly at the profiles of the 22 year old dudes, and realize I better meet someone before Jenny starts bringing boyfriends home.
In the process of writing this, I was messaged by a number of guys. The danger of accessing your online profile is that it refreshes, meaning, it shows you are online or active. I received a very tempting email from a Fabio38. No lie. Fabio is in town only a short time. He knows we probably don’t have a whole lot in common, but thinks we’d have a lot of fun together. I at least like that there’s no pretense, that he is upfront about not wanting anything more. I don’t think he needs to sign it ‘hugs’, I would prefer he be honest and sign it ‘roofies’, but hey, whatever.
I did get mad enough to go back through my old messages and find a semi-decent guy I’d ignored in the past, and sent him a scathing message practically demanding he meet me for coffee and a lap dance. I figured it’s been a while since you guys have been entertained with a good blind-date story, and I want to prove that I really am not totally closed off to dating, and so picky and particular that no one is good enough, despite my incredibly harsh review of the Island of Misfit Toys above. So I’ll let you know if the poor unsuspecting victim bites. Or just nibbles gently.