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Haiku Serial Killers & Why Not to Use the Handle Bigwood - Tales of an Internet Dating Monet.
Now, the part where you actually meet the person that you've been talking to for the last few days is just like any other date. You go, you pretend to give a damn about caffeinated beverages, you decide if the verdict is "yeh" or "meh", and go home. Having done this part, I'm rather tempted to try one of the speed dating events that match.com sponsors a couple times a month just to save myself the time e-mailing back and forth for a week beforehand, although it has been suggested to me by Closet Buffyholic that after about twenty minutes, she'd be letting them sit down, take a look & be like, "Next!" which I have to admit is an option that also crossed my mind. Just, you know, line 'em up, & let me decide which ones look interesting, could we?
Which, really brings us to the crux of the problem - whether it's online or in real time, there's still the ages-old problem - how does one wade through a sea of "no thanks" to find one worth my precious time? I have no solution for this. However, based on the pattern I've encountered, I've come to two conclusions.
1. Being too honest initially in LA gets you nowhere.
My profile is, it would seem, a magnet for guys that are either a) old enough to be my dad, or b) dorks. Now, I've got nothing against dorkiness. For those of you new to the ND.com party, we're really just a big bunch of geeks with too much time on their hands. However. There's a ginormous difference between that and guys that you can't help but think only took off the Klingon outfit & left their parents' basement about a week ago, ya know what I mean? Therefore, I need to sit down & make my profile a little less...pocket protector friendly.
2. I am the equivalent of an online dating Monet.
No, seriously. I get pings a couple times of a week, but when I write back with simple questions like, "So if you have the Celtics listed as your favorite NBA team, are you from Boston?" (which is, by the way, an actual question I used at one point) And then...you never hear from them again. Now, don't get me wrong - I'm not exactly sitting at my desk, hitting refresh on my hotmail account every ten minutes, but still...You approached Me, sweetheart. Why did you bother if you're not going to write back?
Between this and the fact that I'm a 5'10" girl that's not a size 2 attempting to date in LA, I stand by my classification as an internet Monet - I'm appealing upon first blush, and I guess I give good initial internet, but once they get close up, something about me just freaks them out and people can't handle it. I'm rather tempted to do follow up e-mails and ask for specifics. Is it the fact that I asked where you're from? Was the part where I suggested we have coffee too much too fast for you? Perhaps my odd East Coast tendency of actually wanting to know about people, combined with my higher than 3% body fat and this wacky habit I have of answering questions with full sentences instead of a high pitched giggle is all just too much for the boys of California. I do not know.
The search, it goes onward & outward. Because if there's nothing else that dating is good for, it's the part where you call your friend to talk about the date or the Wink O' The Day which made you actually gasp. in. horror. 'sides, if all else fails...speed dating might cut down on some prep time...
~ Claris
May 10th, 2004
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