Well, dear readers, I’m 15 days into The Online Experiment, and the results so far are:
- Profile viewed: 635 times
- Emails received: 6
- Emails received that weren’t totally weird: 5
- Dates: 0
- Profile revised: at least 4 times
As for those six emails, I’ve received such gems as:
Totally. Dig. The hair. It kind of reminds me of a soft and shiny field of wheat, slowly waving in the field on a warm and lazy summer day — right before it gets harvested and processed into beer. Why beer? Who knows, I love beer. And you reminded me of it, which made me smile. Whoa, I just realized the enormity of that statement… your first impression ONLINE made me smile! I guess this is what they mean by love at first sight haha 🙂
How long have you been out here? I’ve been here for eight months now, could be paroled soon so I may go back to SoCal. Not sure…
There you go. To everyone out there who implored me to try the online dating thing, this is what you get. The most depressing thing is that about one percent of the people who viewed me decided I was worth emailing. One percent. If that’s not enough to make you want to withdraw completely from civilized society and count on a life of solitude and Friday nights spent with wine and dates with fictional television characters, I don’t know what is.
I’m (mostly) exaggerating, but still, I’m finding there’s a lot I don’t like about the online route:
- It’s superficial. You’re forced to evaluate people immediately based on parameters that may or may not matter down the road. Sure, I’d really like to date a guy whose political viewpoints are on the liberal side, but say I fall in love with a Republican? It’s happened before. (I’m not proud of it, but by the time we split up, he was sitting squarely on the left side of the fence, whether he’d ever admit it or not.) Likewise, some guy might be out there searching for “someday wants kids,” but perhaps after I charm him with my dazzling personality and knowledge of football, he decides that he wants me more than he wants kids. It happens, people adapt and change, and I don’t like pretending that cut and dry parameters actually mean anything.
- It’s time consuming. Seriously, it takes a lot of time and effort to sort through thousands of profiles, figure out what to say in an email… and to be honest, I don’t have hours every day to spend on this. Nor would I want to, even if I did. I have a life. I have a city to explore and work to do. Sure, some of my friends met their husbands, wives, girlfriends, or boyfriends online. But a large majority met him or her doing normal everyday things that didn’t take extra time out of their lives – at work, or at school, or through friends. I love them for worrying about me, but sometimes I want to remind them that what I’m trying so hard to do came oh so easily to them.
- It’s awkward and unnatural. Do you like talking about yourself? I don’t, really. I like writing funny stories about my absurd life, but if anyone asks me to describe who I am, I get tongue tied. “Um… well, I’m from Pittsburgh… I like singing… I like hockey…” The guys I’ve had the best times with over the years, I’ve just been myself with – loud, sometimes obnoxious, unfiltered me, swearing and drinking beer and eating wings and yelling at Ben Roethlisberger. I can’t yell at Ben Roethlisberger on Match.com.
My friends are begging me to be patient. I’ve paid upfront for three months, so I don’t really have a choice. I’m in this for at least 75 more days, and I’m maintaining my original goal of three dates. But I’m just wondering… is there anyone normal out there in online land who is compatible and wants to chat with me?