So I tried online dating.  I’d heard it’s how everyone meets people these days.  I’d heard it was what people just did these days.  I’d heard it was better than meeting people in random social venues around town, or through friends, because there was a wider net.  And you could siphon through the nonsense quicker.  So I tried it, and here’s how it went, beginning to end, good and bad, as honestly as I can muster.

Starting at the beginning…

It was freaking awful.  Absolute and complete catastrophe.  It’s pretty tough to rupture my ego.  But low and behold… that mess jacked me up.

I did it gradually.  First I made a profile, for free.

The first step in creating your online profile is describing yourself.  To make it easy, they provide you with some guiding questions on your general demographics.  Age, height, eye color, hair color, and ethnicity are easy enough; DMV-type questions.  Things got a little more intimate when they asked for profession, education level, smoking/drinking habits, and religion, but no worries there… I get the purpose.  But then it asked for body type.  And to be “helpful”, they provide a drop-down menu from which you can choose your body type.  This, my friends, almost sent me over the edge in self-deprecating analysis.

• Slender
  •  (Probably have to be a size 4 or smaller.  Can eliminate that one…)
• Athletic & Toned
  • (Like…all of me?  All the time??)
• Average
  • (Umm… what?  What the heck is an ‘average’ body type?  Eliminating that one too.)
• A Few Extra Pounds
  • ( Is that according to my clothes that are too big, too small, or fit just right? )
• Curvy 
  • (Starting to think I’m not qualified to determine my own body type…)
• Big and Beautiful
  • (In comparison to what?  A hamster?  A rhino?  A china cabinet?)
• Full-Figured
  • (Again, in comparison to…?)
• Heavy-Set 
  • (Again…)
• Stocky
  • (Ugh…)

Now, had they included “(At One Time Was) Athletic & Toned” or “Likes Squats and Cupcakes” or even “Pleasantly Pear-Shaped”, the choice would have been easier.  Okay, maybe not that last one.  But you see the dilemma.  None of the drop-down menu choices seemed completely honest.

So, after settling on one that I could justify via carefully chosen profile pictures, I moved on to what I preferred in a mate.

Same questions.

And since I decided I’d just use this for fun – “shirt-shopping” without a particular brand or style in mind – I left many of the questions open-ended.  As long as he was male, my height or taller, could fit through a door, and respected God, I left the rest unanswered.  Who knew what this magical little match-making Pentium chip could bring along?

In return for my semi-honest profile fulfillment, it sent me daily emails of men’s profiles that were a “match”.  So I could see others’ profiles, and they could see mine.  Since I didn’t have a paid account, I couldn’t send or receive messages.  So I was quite literally just lookin’.  Scrolling through a daily “magazine” of men’s profiles, sent directly to my email.  So handy, that internets.

It was like my new Facebook.  I’d scroll through picture after picture, profile after profile.  Click on the ones without offensive usernames.  “Favorite” the ones that looked promising.  Swipe left on the rest.

Note:  I did try to find Captain Nintendo’s profile, as I’ve been accused of fabricating that particular “match”.  Sadly, his profile no longer exists.  Sorry for the disappointment.  I assume he’s found his Lieutenant XBox.  

Anyway, I’d been scrolling for a few weeks.  And then, an attractive man by the name of Blark came up (fake name).  And Blark had impeccable spelling and grammar.  Was very cute.  And his profile seemed honest and sincere.  So in a moment of weakness (wine), I paid the stupid 3-month minimum, “favorited” him, and sent him a message.  I decided I’d use the opportunity to tell him a good bit about myself:  likes, dislikes, OCD tendencies (because he mentioned his in his profile).  I didn’t want him to have any doubts as to what a good match I thought we were.

This is the part of the story where I should pause to explain the unstated steps of online dating.  Which I did not know nor think of when messaging Blark.

These are, in fact, the correct steps, and hence why they are ordered this way on the website.

FIRST:  You “like” someone’s picture.  This shows that you’re giving them a compliment on a picture they also apparently like themselves… since they posted it… I guess?  Look, BJR1979, we both like this pic of you!  We like the same thing!  We have so much in common!

SECOND:  Wink at them.  It’s your only means of flirting without using words.  Over the internet.  In a totally un-geeky way.  Spoiler alert: fast-forward 3 months.  This works!  Hey, girl.  Hey!

THIRD:  Send them a message.  Which is actually an email.  Something cute and coy.  Maybe a question about something in their profile.  Something very short, just to say, “Hi, I’m going through the effort to come up with something cute in hopes you’ll respond back…”  Responses are 50/50.  The internet makes us all masters of ignoring people.

FOURTH:  Exchange other contact info, such as actual email addresses or phone numbers.  So you can now text rather than ‘message’/email.  This is easier to get over if you remember we give our number to strangers all the time, aka Uber.

FIFTH:  Text each other for a while.  Learn about each other through very carefully worded texts and emoji use.  Never, ever, ever, ever, ever send the kissey face emoji before you’ve met them.  Disaster.  Utter disaster.  Because you might find when you finally do meet them that you’ve sent that emoji to someone you’re not even comfortable sitting across a table with.  Never, ever, ever, ever, ever.  Ugggghhhhh.

LAST: “Favorite” them.  You are now practically in a relationship.  Because you know alllll about each other and still like each other.  You start walking your dogs together and planning a weekend trip to Nantucket.  You have inside jokes.  You are starting to annoy the single people when you’re together.  Only then do you favorite someone.  Seriously, Stedman78, I did not mean to favorite you so soon.  I swear I’m not a stalker.  I’m no good with the internets.  But you had some TarHeel gear on in one of your pics, so to be fair, we wouldn’t have worked out anyway. 

Yes, that was the order of steps I did not follow.  Leading to my first mistake of coming off as *ahem* a stalker.

Starting with Blark.  Whom I sent a very, very long message to.  As if I would do the same at a Starbucks – walk up, introduce myself, and give them a laundry list of my likes, dislikes, and OCD tendencies.  “Hi, security?  Yes, we’re going to need you over here at the pick-up counter… this woman seems to think I care how she folds her towels.”

Unsurprisingly, my first ever message into the world of online dating was not met with a response.  Looking back, I can see where I may or may not have been a bit too… everything.  But I’m no quitter.

With one failed attempt under my belt, and a 3-month subscription paid for, I took this adventure on like I do most things: head-strong, aggressive, and incessantly optimistic that I could make it a care-free venture.

Incessant optimism has always been my super power.  And downfall.

To be continued…