Written in homage to Dave Berry
Many of you have not had the privilege of participating in our society’s virtual version of Thunderdome, online dating. If this is you, fear not! I will share with you what this painful exercise in existential horror experience is like.
First, some context, because what a person brings with themselves into this arena is going to affect what they encounter.
I’m a male, so right off the bat, my odds for finding a match are worse because most studies show only about 40% of online dating profiles are women, meaning my dad-bod and glasses are up against more shirtless Neanderthals competing for attention than vis versa.
That also means many women are flooded with “likes” and messages from men, and this must be freaking nice! ordeal for women means they have to sift through mounds of affirmation annoying attention.
And, yes, no matter what anyone may try to tell you, online dating is, essentially, a meat market. Pictures are the primary means of drawing other’s attention, and while you do have opportunity to write about yourself, no one is going to read that unless there’s something about your picture that draws them to click on your profile.
This also puts yours truly at somewhat of a disadvantage, because my charm lies more in my personality (if you can find it).
While beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder, I like to think I have a generally realistic appreciation for how my looks stack up against other fellas. Despite what my over-affirming mother hen coworker tells me (I love you, Lynn), on a scale of 1 – 10 based on looks alone, I’m probably in the 6, 6.5 range, maybe 7 if I can get back to my college weight (bless you my one friend who said, “Nah, 7.5”).
Now, factor in personality, and I’m off-the-charts, 10+* (*for select women who appreciate a guy who inserts random pop culture references in his dialogue and likes to discuss philosophy and questions the air-speed velocity of an unladen swallow), but personality ain’t getting clicks.
So, in what I feel is an act of charity, I routinely “like” and message women that – again, superficially – I believe fall under my station of looks, so to speak (say, in the 5 – 5.5 range), but that I find attractive and interesting (I also overshoot on more attractive women because, hey, every herd has a weaker and slower member that might make a mistake once in a blue moon). Surely, you must think, that means I have a decent number of interactions with women, right?
Dear reader, it does not!
For every 2,000,000 of my “likes” or “swipe rights,” I get approximately 0.61 responses. You may be asking, “How can you get a partial response less than 1?” and my answer is, “I don’t know, but that’s what I get.”
Me: “Hi, I really enjoyed Their Eyes Were Watching God, too. I love your hair! What are some of your other favorite books?”
Her: “Hey, wh”
0.61!
Is my lack of responses due to some third eye on my forehead I’ve somehow never seen all this time? Do I have body odor emanating through the interweb? Is there actually some truth to the trope that women have been telling each other “Girl, you’re so GORGEOUS, you deserve the absolute BEST” even when they look like Roseanne Barr that all women are trying to get the men who are 9s and 10s?
These are the mysteries of our age.
Allow me to share a bit of the experience of sorting through different profiles.
Her: “I want Donald Trump to impregnate me!”
*Swipes left*
Her: “I’m looking for loyalty and commitment.” [has 10 children]
*Swipes left*
Her: “I vape, have 20 cats, and I love to argue – if you don’t like it, swipe left!”
*Swipes left*
Her: “Married but allowed to have fun 😉” [this was real]
*Swipes left*
Her: “Make sure you can afford to like me on all levels. MUST be the right caliber of a man. I realize it is a numbers game but expect no response unless you are the complete package” [this was also real]
*Swipes left*
Let me also share another literal bio I saw: “I’m a polyamorous pansexual switch looking for a permanent nesting partner. I’m currently solo poly and have 3 wonderful partners. I also have a fish.”
I wish I could have made that up. I have many questions, and I’m horrified to find the answers to all of them.
What did your parents do to you? In this context, what is a switch (I made the mistake of asking my teenage daughter this, to which she replied, “I’m uncomfortable having this conversation with you”)? How can a person be a “solo poly” while also having three partners? What have you subjected that fish to?
Then there are the moments when you stumble across the profiles of women you know in real life.
Sometimes you let curiosity get the best of you and say, “Oh, hey, it’s [insert name], I wonder what she’s put on her profile?” then open her profile before remembering that on some platforms people are able to tell if you’ve looked at them, then exclaim to yourself, “*%!@, she’s going to think I’m interested in her…and, not that I’m not interested, necessarily, but, that’d be way too awkward, wouldn’t it? I need to go lie down.”
Or, inevitably you’ll eventually run into the woman in real life, and you’ll be dying to know if she also saw your profile (but she didn’t look at it – that harlot), and if she did, was she thinking the same thing you were thinking, and, well, why didn’t she initiate an interaction? Well, you’re the man here, David, if you had any interest, you should have initiated it – but fear of rejection is what got you in online dating to begin with…I need to go lie down.
And then, like spotting a unicorn jumping over a waterfall, you’ll actually get a response! Maybe she’s having an off day and decided to slum a little, or maybe English is her second language so she can’t carry a conversation. Regardless, a response!
Me: “Hey, what are some of your passions? What’s your ideal first date?”
Her: “I like discussing issues. It’d be one where I feel good.”
Me: “…….I like talking about social issues and lots of different philosophical questions, myself. What do you like to do for fun?”
Her: “Study and sleep.”
Me: “Ah, study, yeah, I see you’re in grad school. I enjoy learning, too – I’ve been slowly working on a Masters part-time for several years now, and I might do another when finished, but I’m not sure yet. What’s your major?”
Her: “Anthropomorphopolyglotolgy”
Me: “Huh. Is that like anthropology at all? I wanted to be an archaeologist as a kid – I love history. My undergrad ended up being in political science, and I really enjoyed learning about theory. I work in local government now, so I like trying to understand how different theory affects people in the real world. What do you want to do when you graduate?”
Her: “Yes. Maybe work at a college.”
Me: “……OK, cool. So…is there anything you’re curious to ask me?”
Her: “No, I’m good for now.”
Me: “………………….”
It’s hard out here for a pimp.
David S. Wisener 