This is the seventh installment of my "Adventures in Dating" series. Enjoy episodes 1, 2, 3, 4, 4.5, and 5 here.
Shortly after the zombie apocalyptic date with Plan Z, I just gave up. On the whole, that winter the men contacting me through Match.com were, well...they just weren't in my league. Not even close. I'm not even sure what league they'd be in. I don't think there was a single man over the age of 65 in the greater Denver area that had not asked me out. And the ones near my age? Good Lord. They were definitely out-punting their coverage as well. It was as if I was the only person along the Front Range who was clear on the theory of Natural Selection.
In a rare moment of clarity, I had this thought: When it is actually hurting your self-esteem that men are attracted to you, it's time for a game-changer. A fairly big one.
I had approximately 2 weeks left on my Match.com subscription and I decided to just absolutely go down in flames. Truly and seriously. It was time to stop playing nice and just put something out there that was so over-the-top ridiculous that it could no longer go unnoticed by the forty-something hotties that had to be out there.
It was one of those "this might be just crazy enough to work" moments.
So with the help of my friend Mike (who I met on Match.com but who was geographically undesirable because he lived in Chicago) I updated my profile:
"Just about everyone on this site loves to travel, loves taking long walks on the beach, loves puppy dogs and describes themselves as honest, loyal, compassionate, caring, sincere, trustworthy, loving, friendly, confident, financially secure, intelligent, happy, healthy, fun loving, and spontaneous and is looking for the same... but not me.
I don't like clowns. Or carnival workers. Or mimes.
I am seeking a rude, obsessive, compulsive, neurotic, nagging, anti-social, manic, emotionally unavailable, paranoid man who has major anger and jealousy issues... but basically is normal. Bonus points if you never want to have sex, let me see my friends, want to spend all of my money and are mean, controlling, moody and manipulative.
Also, I'm also looking for a man who has a good memory. For instance...remembering to bring his credit card when we go out.
As far as for what I am really looking for? Good question. Honesty, check. Funny, check. Comfortable with who he really is, check. Pretty much everything else is negotiable.
We are not perfect, thus the reason for this site. Have you spent time in prison and it wasn't your fault? Tell me about it. Did you do something so inappropriate at last year's company Christmas party that you were terminated unfairly immediately? Let's hear about it. Was that whole thing where you were issued a restaining order just a silly misunderstanding? I'm listening.
I'm looking for someone intelligent who must enjoy talking about big and deep issues in addition to whether Brangelina are going to adopt any more kids or what is going on at "The Jersey Shore." So, if you think the topic of Brangelina or "The Jersey Shore" qualifies as a big and deep issue, my guess is we would not be a good match. Alternatively, if you have no clue who Brangelina or what "The Jersey Shore" is, I'm also guessing we would not be a good match.
I know I don't want to be a "Match Lifer" and am guessing you don't either. I'm not going to tell you I'm Snow White, but I'm closer to Snow White than the Evil Queen...even if I'm not into dwarves.
The whole mysterious chemistry thing is the key here. Intangible. Elusive. What everyone is really looking for. It can’t happen on a web page. I know if we go out, you will laugh...a lot. And you'll likely think things line up rather well physically, too.
I think if we met and there was mutual chemistry, we'd find out over time what makes us each unique. And I guess that's the real challenge here, isn't it?"
Sadly, it was decidedly crazy, just not crazy enough to work. No one seemed to "get" the sarcasm. In fact, I went from having 65 year-old men pursuing me to having 65 year-old enraged coots pursuing me, each convinced I was as angry at the world as he was. I suppose I should've been flattered that they they were taking time away from their manifesto-writing to say hello...but mostly I was just disappointed.
Disappointed that in six months time, I had managed only to reconfirm my worst fears: That I was unworthy of love, that I was destined to die in my house and be eaten by my cats, that I'd soon be traveling the world alone wearing a caftan and large wooden jewelry.
So I gave up on Match.com and turned unenthusiatically to it's older, more successful but less attractive brother, eHarmony. I spent minimal time putting together a very honest, if not at all sarcastically hysterical profile, answered all of the questions about my 27 levels of deep compatibility truthfully, and tried to ignore the fact that the guy on the eHarmony commercials looked like a pedophile. I figured he'd likely be the only septuagenarian on the site who wouldn't ask me out. Upside, people!
And then I met an Oompa-Loompa.
But that's a story for another day.
Shortly after the zombie apocalyptic date with Plan Z, I just gave up. On the whole, that winter the men contacting me through Match.com were, well...they just weren't in my league. Not even close. I'm not even sure what league they'd be in. I don't think there was a single man over the age of 65 in the greater Denver area that had not asked me out. And the ones near my age? Good Lord. They were definitely out-punting their coverage as well. It was as if I was the only person along the Front Range who was clear on the theory of Natural Selection.
Actual Match.com suitor. As if.
In a rare moment of clarity, I had this thought: When it is actually hurting your self-esteem that men are attracted to you, it's time for a game-changer. A fairly big one.
I had approximately 2 weeks left on my Match.com subscription and I decided to just absolutely go down in flames. Truly and seriously. It was time to stop playing nice and just put something out there that was so over-the-top ridiculous that it could no longer go unnoticed by the forty-something hotties that had to be out there.
It was one of those "this might be just crazy enough to work" moments.
So with the help of my friend Mike (who I met on Match.com but who was geographically undesirable because he lived in Chicago) I updated my profile:
"Just about everyone on this site loves to travel, loves taking long walks on the beach, loves puppy dogs and describes themselves as honest, loyal, compassionate, caring, sincere, trustworthy, loving, friendly, confident, financially secure, intelligent, happy, healthy, fun loving, and spontaneous and is looking for the same... but not me.
I don't like clowns. Or carnival workers. Or mimes.
I am seeking a rude, obsessive, compulsive, neurotic, nagging, anti-social, manic, emotionally unavailable, paranoid man who has major anger and jealousy issues... but basically is normal. Bonus points if you never want to have sex, let me see my friends, want to spend all of my money and are mean, controlling, moody and manipulative.
Also, I'm also looking for a man who has a good memory. For instance...remembering to bring his credit card when we go out.
As far as for what I am really looking for? Good question. Honesty, check. Funny, check. Comfortable with who he really is, check. Pretty much everything else is negotiable.
We are not perfect, thus the reason for this site. Have you spent time in prison and it wasn't your fault? Tell me about it. Did you do something so inappropriate at last year's company Christmas party that you were terminated unfairly immediately? Let's hear about it. Was that whole thing where you were issued a restaining order just a silly misunderstanding? I'm listening.
I'm looking for someone intelligent who must enjoy talking about big and deep issues in addition to whether Brangelina are going to adopt any more kids or what is going on at "The Jersey Shore." So, if you think the topic of Brangelina or "The Jersey Shore" qualifies as a big and deep issue, my guess is we would not be a good match. Alternatively, if you have no clue who Brangelina or what "The Jersey Shore" is, I'm also guessing we would not be a good match.
I know I don't want to be a "Match Lifer" and am guessing you don't either. I'm not going to tell you I'm Snow White, but I'm closer to Snow White than the Evil Queen...even if I'm not into dwarves.
The whole mysterious chemistry thing is the key here. Intangible. Elusive. What everyone is really looking for. It can’t happen on a web page. I know if we go out, you will laugh...a lot. And you'll likely think things line up rather well physically, too.
I think if we met and there was mutual chemistry, we'd find out over time what makes us each unique. And I guess that's the real challenge here, isn't it?"
Sadly, it was decidedly crazy, just not crazy enough to work. No one seemed to "get" the sarcasm. In fact, I went from having 65 year-old men pursuing me to having 65 year-old enraged coots pursuing me, each convinced I was as angry at the world as he was. I suppose I should've been flattered that they they were taking time away from their manifesto-writing to say hello...but mostly I was just disappointed.
Disappointed that in six months time, I had managed only to reconfirm my worst fears: That I was unworthy of love, that I was destined to die in my house and be eaten by my cats, that I'd soon be traveling the world alone wearing a caftan and large wooden jewelry.
Like this, only with chunky wooden jewelry and more chins.
So I gave up on Match.com and turned unenthusiatically to it's older, more successful but less attractive brother, eHarmony. I spent minimal time putting together a very honest, if not at all sarcastically hysterical profile, answered all of the questions about my 27 levels of deep compatibility truthfully, and tried to ignore the fact that the guy on the eHarmony commercials looked like a pedophile. I figured he'd likely be the only septuagenarian on the site who wouldn't ask me out. Upside, people!
And then I met an Oompa-Loompa.
But that's a story for another day.
You always write and leave us wanting more! I can't wait to hear about the Oompa-Loompa!
ReplyDeletethis is unbelievable. that whole thing where i was issued a restraining order? it was just a silly misunderstanding. or maybe an evil sociopathic bitch...
ReplyDeletei get 'em mixed up.