I spent one single month on the world’s most popular dating site and learned a lot about this fascinating and circus-like community of people in such a short time. Probably because I treated this one month like a dating scavenger hunt slash triathlon slash game of red rover. All the men were lined up shouting, “Red rover, red rover, let Kimberly come over!”
It became a challenge for me to walk down the street in public. Not because I was afraid that someone would recognize me from my profile. Rather because I had become so accustomed to seeing a description of someone’s personality, hobbies and favorite qualities in a mate laid out in neatly lined text next to their face that I began to visualize this very thing when I was out and about. Suddenly walking, talking, 3-D dating profiles were everywhere.
The first time, I walked by a guy at the mall who likely worked at Abercrombie and Fitch, due to the fact that he was wearing head to toe A&F apparel but was upwards of twenty-five, and my new Dating Profile Vision (DPV) displayed some helpful text next to his moving headshot: “Grew up in Minnesota, loves dogs, enjoys boating and wake-boarding; looking for an adventurous and laid back girl who wears a size 00; will never hold a job outside of this mall.” I probably appeared stunned as he walked past me, then the overwhelming cologne scent knocked me out.
A bar is a mess of a place to keep your head on straight with a problem like DPV. I could not keep my attention on a conversation with friends when every person who walked by our table had such information readily available for me to read. Ill-fitting business-shirt-and-tie-guy with spiky hair had a profile that read, “Works boring 9-to-5; drives sports car and listens to rap music; only pretends to work out at the gym; will make you feel like you’re his mother with all the nagging you’ll have to do.” V-neck T-shirt guy with buzzed hair and five-o-clock shadow’s said, “Excellent at both making eye contact and making out; will write decently beautiful songs about you; will randomly stop calling after three weeks of bliss.” College-football-hat guy’s says, “You’ll love my friends, I’m tons of fun to drink with, and I’ll make you feel like a queen because I think you’re so amazing. Then after a year I’ll decide we aren’t right for each other because the shine has worn off. Save yourself now.” Wait, that was my last boyfriend. Signals crossed.
Anyway, here are a few things to keep in mind if you dare venture into cyber-searching for a mate, other than being wary of DPV.
Any man who posts a picture of himself doing bicep curls: Ignore.
Dude, it’s great that you work out. Write in your profile, “likes to work out,” or “avid weightlifter.” Even post a picture of yourself in a well-fitting T-shirt to show that you are in shape, not something shiny or with the sleeves cut off, and not shirtless at the gym. That’s also an “ignore,” girls. Shirtless on a boat…that’s a maybe-ignore. First ask yourself, how amazing are his abs?
Any man who’s opening line to you is, “What were you for Halloween, a hottie?” Ignore.
This really happened. That was all he said, and that was his first contact with me. It was also his last contact with me. It would have been fun to write back, “I’m a hottie every day. For Halloween I was a mouse,” but I thought better of starting a chain of communication with this guy at all. I also heard, “You have the most beautiful eyes, but I guess you can see that.” Delete.
Run your own sort of IQ test.
First portion: Writing skills. If his emails are casual or informal, that’s one thing, but if he uses run on sentences, incorrect grammar, or uses the phrase “hangin’ with ladies,” then that’s beyond informal. That’s uninformed.
Test Two: If you ask his favorite book and he can’t even name a book, he’s out.
I once dated a guy who said, “I don’t care if my kids can read as long as they can throw a football.” I wish the online dating sites had an IQ test built in. They’d make bank in extra fees.