Tales of vegetable dating
Hello, my name is Rebecca. And I’m online dating.
(Readers respond in hypnotized unison): Hello, Rebecca.
There I’ve said it. That wasn’t so bad. I’ve admitted to the fact that I’ve uploaded a first-date version of myself on the World Wide Web – the information superhighway -for the entire fricking globe to view and subsequently pick apart like a Hooters chicken wing.
Because I cannot in good conscience align myself with a site that aligns itself with a Dr. who goes simply by his first name (“you better get REAL, people!”), because I’m not Jewish, because I have no patience to complete a survey that takes roughly 2 hours to complete and because I do not choose to spend $60 a month on a site when I can’t even afford the Comcast upgrade package which includes HBO on my copywriter’s salary, I opted for the free version of a website that makes me laugh without fail, thinking that perhaps I might find a free version of a man who makes me laugh without fail. That’s right, in my attempt to alter my romantic destiny, I chose a site named after a vegetable (cue lame Pibo Bryson song from 1991). I chose… The Onion.
Why am I writing about this? Because it’s confusing as hell. I’ve discovered there are indeed – pun not intended - many layers to online dating, on The Onion and elsewhere. And I’ve been riding on the back of the short bus wearing a helmet and headgear for regular dating so this whole thing is quite disturbing.
Let’s talk about the stigma of online dating that people SWEAR is gone. “Oh, honey, everybody’s doing it…you need to get yourself ON there!” Yet in the area of the profiles where people list their most humbling moment, roughly half the people ON THE ONION list “Using this” or “Resorting to online dating” as their most humbling moment. !! ?? Um, hellOOO, Neggy McNeggerson: you’re not only calling yourself a loser but you’re now calling me a loser too for using this site and thus taking time to peruse your profile. Way to sell it, man. I can’t wait for our first date!!
Then there are you people in committed relationships. (I believe my girl Bridget refers to your kind as “The Smug Marrieds”. Easily interchangeable with the “The Smug Daters”). You know who you are. Some of you are dear friends and some of you are casual acquaintances. I know you’re trying to be supportive and sensitive to the single person’s plight and that you’d probably be horrified if you realized how the things that come out of your mouth sound sometimes. And I know you want to believe you’re still in touch with the scene but here’s a newsflash: YOU AREN’T.
Because when I say things like “I wish that one guy I went out with that I actually liked would’ve called me back”, responding with things like “Well maybe THAT’S the reason he had to go on The Onion in the first place…he doesn’t know how to date” doesn’t really make ME feel so good even though I know it was directed at HIM. The reason he HAD to go on The Onion? To me this somehow implies that online dating is the last stop before my ovaries and their testicles just crackle up, get pissed into city sewage and then show up at some freak exhibit at Moma, after which my reproductive organs will be featured in a minimalist, yet crafty Illustrator design on a refrigerator magnet, a postcard, a jigsaw puzzle and a flip book at the Moma store. NOT COOL.
Oh, and when I show you someone’s profile I’m interested in going out with, saying things like “Well he’s 36 years old – why does he need to go on The Onion to get a date? There’s gotta be something wrong with him.” HELLO, PEOPLE! The mirror has two faces!! At least that’s what the Barbara Streisand movie said. Lest you forgot, I AM 36 too!
Please. Stop doing that.
OK, then there’s the whole etiquette of online dating. I mean, please. It’s just exhausting. I recently checked out the list of guys who “hot-listed” me and I got to thinking: If I’m hot enough to be on your fucking hotlist, why don’t you just email me, you lazy asses? Or wink at me? (which is lame, but hey, we’re in the world of online dating so when in Rome….).
I winked at a guy last week who hotlisted me. He proceeded to contact me and tell me that my profile so moved him, that he had to break his rule of not responding to girls who only winked at him. Is it just me or is this skewed logic? Since you can view the people who Hotlisted you, isn’t hotlisting just a different form of winking? Or is it a fancy way of saying “I want you to know I think you’re cute but I have better stuff going on right now but I don’t want to lose track of you”? That’s totally fine but don’t then try to bust me for winking at you, Mr. Serial Hotlister. (He may be reading right now. But probably not. He requested to see some of my writing and I sent him to my blog and never heard back. Bah humbug.)
The other annoying thing is that people have time to craft their profiles. I’m not saying I didn’t spend time on mine because I did. But after doing this for a few months and going on some not-so-exciting dates, I get the distinct impression that the non-original people take snippets of wit from the original people and frankly, that just pisses me off. Also, SOME people who are funny in writing do not also possess the quick wit and natural humor to be funny in person. Maybe they’re nervous or shy. Because I get nervous and shy on these dates. But after a couple of glasses of wine, even the most nervous or shy person utters one or two funny things that gives the other person a glimmer of hope for the future, even if that future is the next 15 minutes. I’m not asking for the whole stand-up routine. Just a glimmer, people. A FUCKING GLIMMER!! A PULSE!! After all, if ya got, ya got it and it might come out slowly but it’ll come. If it doesn’t, consider yourself busted for being a profile “poser” and once you’re in that category you’re there for a while. Like Purgatory, treading in boiling oil and balancing a 2-ton Liger on your head, for the next 6000 years. And don’t be lying about the books you read, either. That’s just WRONG.
And what of the serial emailers? The people who cannot commit to asking you out on a real date to save their fricking lives but continue to flirt with you online, even after you suggest the in-person encounter? Why do you do this? Why do you waste my time? And yours? What do you hope to accomplish with this? DELETE.
And you, Mr. “I can’t stop looking at your profile” subject line. STOP EMAILING ME. You’ve sent me that email with that subject line FOUR TIMES.
When you finally go out on an actual date with someone, it seems one of two things happens (besides it feeling like a fucking miracle that anything is happening at all): 1) you have a pleasant time. Yes, pleasant. I’ve had pleasant and have been told I’m pleasant. Pleasant. Tulips are pleasant. Afternoon tea is pleasant. Who wants or wants to be pleasant? I want to be overtaken by chemistry so powerful that we can barely keep our lips apart and we seem to never stop talking. Yes, I realize this is why it’s called dating and that not every date is a love connection. But online dating seems like a shitload more work up front for a lot less likelihood of a payoff, even a small one. I mean PLEASANT. Come the fuck on, people. (See? That’s not the sentence of a pleasant person.)
The second thing: you could really find someone you like. This has happened once. He seemed to like me. He called me again and emailed me again. But he never asked me out again. I guess he just wasn’t that into me, as the book says. Bummer. So don’t email me and call me. Just fade to black, man. It’s easier that way. It’s the way of the world.
So the moral of this story is….a question mark. Right now it feels like I’m doing triple the work for the same result. Can’t somebody just have a house party or come forward with a really hot friend who just moved here from Australia? Anyone??
(Readers respond in hypnotized unison): Hello, Rebecca.
There I’ve said it. That wasn’t so bad. I’ve admitted to the fact that I’ve uploaded a first-date version of myself on the World Wide Web – the information superhighway -for the entire fricking globe to view and subsequently pick apart like a Hooters chicken wing.
Because I cannot in good conscience align myself with a site that aligns itself with a Dr. who goes simply by his first name (“you better get REAL, people!”), because I’m not Jewish, because I have no patience to complete a survey that takes roughly 2 hours to complete and because I do not choose to spend $60 a month on a site when I can’t even afford the Comcast upgrade package which includes HBO on my copywriter’s salary, I opted for the free version of a website that makes me laugh without fail, thinking that perhaps I might find a free version of a man who makes me laugh without fail. That’s right, in my attempt to alter my romantic destiny, I chose a site named after a vegetable (cue lame Pibo Bryson song from 1991). I chose… The Onion.
Why am I writing about this? Because it’s confusing as hell. I’ve discovered there are indeed – pun not intended - many layers to online dating, on The Onion and elsewhere. And I’ve been riding on the back of the short bus wearing a helmet and headgear for regular dating so this whole thing is quite disturbing.
Let’s talk about the stigma of online dating that people SWEAR is gone. “Oh, honey, everybody’s doing it…you need to get yourself ON there!” Yet in the area of the profiles where people list their most humbling moment, roughly half the people ON THE ONION list “Using this” or “Resorting to online dating” as their most humbling moment. !! ?? Um, hellOOO, Neggy McNeggerson: you’re not only calling yourself a loser but you’re now calling me a loser too for using this site and thus taking time to peruse your profile. Way to sell it, man. I can’t wait for our first date!!
Then there are you people in committed relationships. (I believe my girl Bridget refers to your kind as “The Smug Marrieds”. Easily interchangeable with the “The Smug Daters”). You know who you are. Some of you are dear friends and some of you are casual acquaintances. I know you’re trying to be supportive and sensitive to the single person’s plight and that you’d probably be horrified if you realized how the things that come out of your mouth sound sometimes. And I know you want to believe you’re still in touch with the scene but here’s a newsflash: YOU AREN’T.
Because when I say things like “I wish that one guy I went out with that I actually liked would’ve called me back”, responding with things like “Well maybe THAT’S the reason he had to go on The Onion in the first place…he doesn’t know how to date” doesn’t really make ME feel so good even though I know it was directed at HIM. The reason he HAD to go on The Onion? To me this somehow implies that online dating is the last stop before my ovaries and their testicles just crackle up, get pissed into city sewage and then show up at some freak exhibit at Moma, after which my reproductive organs will be featured in a minimalist, yet crafty Illustrator design on a refrigerator magnet, a postcard, a jigsaw puzzle and a flip book at the Moma store. NOT COOL.
Oh, and when I show you someone’s profile I’m interested in going out with, saying things like “Well he’s 36 years old – why does he need to go on The Onion to get a date? There’s gotta be something wrong with him.” HELLO, PEOPLE! The mirror has two faces!! At least that’s what the Barbara Streisand movie said. Lest you forgot, I AM 36 too!
Please. Stop doing that.
OK, then there’s the whole etiquette of online dating. I mean, please. It’s just exhausting. I recently checked out the list of guys who “hot-listed” me and I got to thinking: If I’m hot enough to be on your fucking hotlist, why don’t you just email me, you lazy asses? Or wink at me? (which is lame, but hey, we’re in the world of online dating so when in Rome….).
I winked at a guy last week who hotlisted me. He proceeded to contact me and tell me that my profile so moved him, that he had to break his rule of not responding to girls who only winked at him. Is it just me or is this skewed logic? Since you can view the people who Hotlisted you, isn’t hotlisting just a different form of winking? Or is it a fancy way of saying “I want you to know I think you’re cute but I have better stuff going on right now but I don’t want to lose track of you”? That’s totally fine but don’t then try to bust me for winking at you, Mr. Serial Hotlister. (He may be reading right now. But probably not. He requested to see some of my writing and I sent him to my blog and never heard back. Bah humbug.)
The other annoying thing is that people have time to craft their profiles. I’m not saying I didn’t spend time on mine because I did. But after doing this for a few months and going on some not-so-exciting dates, I get the distinct impression that the non-original people take snippets of wit from the original people and frankly, that just pisses me off. Also, SOME people who are funny in writing do not also possess the quick wit and natural humor to be funny in person. Maybe they’re nervous or shy. Because I get nervous and shy on these dates. But after a couple of glasses of wine, even the most nervous or shy person utters one or two funny things that gives the other person a glimmer of hope for the future, even if that future is the next 15 minutes. I’m not asking for the whole stand-up routine. Just a glimmer, people. A FUCKING GLIMMER!! A PULSE!! After all, if ya got, ya got it and it might come out slowly but it’ll come. If it doesn’t, consider yourself busted for being a profile “poser” and once you’re in that category you’re there for a while. Like Purgatory, treading in boiling oil and balancing a 2-ton Liger on your head, for the next 6000 years. And don’t be lying about the books you read, either. That’s just WRONG.
And what of the serial emailers? The people who cannot commit to asking you out on a real date to save their fricking lives but continue to flirt with you online, even after you suggest the in-person encounter? Why do you do this? Why do you waste my time? And yours? What do you hope to accomplish with this? DELETE.
And you, Mr. “I can’t stop looking at your profile” subject line. STOP EMAILING ME. You’ve sent me that email with that subject line FOUR TIMES.
When you finally go out on an actual date with someone, it seems one of two things happens (besides it feeling like a fucking miracle that anything is happening at all): 1) you have a pleasant time. Yes, pleasant. I’ve had pleasant and have been told I’m pleasant. Pleasant. Tulips are pleasant. Afternoon tea is pleasant. Who wants or wants to be pleasant? I want to be overtaken by chemistry so powerful that we can barely keep our lips apart and we seem to never stop talking. Yes, I realize this is why it’s called dating and that not every date is a love connection. But online dating seems like a shitload more work up front for a lot less likelihood of a payoff, even a small one. I mean PLEASANT. Come the fuck on, people. (See? That’s not the sentence of a pleasant person.)
The second thing: you could really find someone you like. This has happened once. He seemed to like me. He called me again and emailed me again. But he never asked me out again. I guess he just wasn’t that into me, as the book says. Bummer. So don’t email me and call me. Just fade to black, man. It’s easier that way. It’s the way of the world.
So the moral of this story is….a question mark. Right now it feels like I’m doing triple the work for the same result. Can’t somebody just have a house party or come forward with a really hot friend who just moved here from Australia? Anyone??
posted by Single, Party of One at 9:29 AM
11 Comments:
Since my engagement is a product of online dating, here are my words of advice: BE PATIENT. Though I didn't do the heavy online profile bit, the Deepsters and I did start our relationship off via email. It can work. Consider me proof.
And stop listening to people who've never even attempted this form of dating! Yes it's annoying at times and you may need to venture on to other online dating sites eventually, but at least you have the opportunity to weed out the "bad onions" (sorry, had to) from the good ones. You can't really do that when you meet someone at a bar/bookstore/farmer's market where you actually have to date that person before you find out things you can't stand about that person. See what I mean?
Everything I have attempted to say has come out all Smug Dater-ish, and that's not my intention at all.
So instead I'll just make fun of the way that one woman says planet on the eHarmony commercial.
"... we grew up on deeeferent sides of the PLAIN-it!"
Be paitient. Haters be damned.
My brother just went to a wedding this past weekend that was a result of a jdate hookup. I've been with a certain lady since xmas cause of my online profile. Nothing's for certain in this world poor RB, even for the ones who deserve it most of all, like you. But never give up because the first guy you turn down could be the one you should have winked back at. Here's thinking of you kid.
you could a) do like me and sleep with your partner.
b) trade me your job for my boyfriend
c) upgrade to dr. first name (the rican works on match and dr. phil, so maybe he can hook u up with a deal)
d) fuck boys for a year (as in get rid of them so literally the opposite) write your book, become famous and wait for the offers to pour in.(yes, he'll love you for your money. but you'll love him for his 24 year old sexy italian pectorals and abs. so you're both getting what you want)
e) do like the chicks i used to work with and call up dial a man whore.
f) i know these 2 guys. ben and jerry. they're a little on the overweight side, but TRUST ME great personalities and the perfect neflix threesome.
and if none of this advice is useful to you, then what can i tell you? blogging is a free online service. for productive advice...run screaming from me into the arms of the paid professionals.
you could a) do like me and sleep with your partner.
b) trade me your job for my boyfriend
c) upgrade to dr. first name (the rican works on match and dr. phil, so maybe he can hook u up with a deal)
d) fuck boys for a year (as in get rid of them so literally the opposite) write your book, become famous and wait for the offers to pour in.(yes, he'll love you for your money. but you'll love him for his 24 year old sexy italian pectorals and abs. so you're both getting what you want)
e) do like the chicks i used to work with and call up dial a man whore.
f) i know these 2 guys. ben and jerry. they're a little on the overweight side, but TRUST ME great personalities and the perfect neflix threesome.
and if none of this advice is useful to you, then what can i tell you? blogging is a free online service. for productive advice...run screaming from me into the arms of the paid professionals.
Dshaw, I love the crack analogy and I think that it's probably perfect. People ignore things they might once have been intrigued by because -ooohh! look at the birdie! she likes techno and so do I but this one doesn't - there's just so much fricking stimulation and so many options, people probably think "well why SHOULD i spend any more time with this person when she wears Banana Republic and I am CLEARLY a man who has a strong fashion sense?" (ps - guys actually define this as important..??)
Concha, I like the approach of the "fuck boys for a year" concept but for me The Window of Whoreness closed in 2004. Anybody who didn't squeeze in before then doesn't get in now without a few bottles of wine and quite a few dinners - preferably at least one dinner they prepare with their own hands.
Thanks, guys, for the insight (feel free to post more!). I'm not giving up hope. I'm being patient. I just wanted other peoples' perspective.
And just to be clear, my life kicks ass without a man b/c i have all of you fine people in it, even from afar. It'll take George Clooney, Cillian Murphy, Owen Wilson, Clive Owen, James blunt, Chris Martin and a couple of other non-celebrity peeps I know who shall remain unmentioned all rolled into one guy to get regular inclusion my calendar over any of my friends or family.
I just want to make out and meet some nice guys with potential. Is that so wrong? (Note: the window on groping did not close in 2004)
this was also found on the onion:
http://www.theonion.com/content/node/47162
LOL at the image of you riding on the dating short bus. With the headgear, classic.
About the online dating -- Hotlisting? Winking? sounds complicated.
But hang in there. One of my roommates from grad school just sent me a "save the date" e-mail. I hadn't even known she was dating anyone in particular, but yes, they met on Match.com or somesuch site.
ok, i think i may have solved your problem. I blogged just for you today.
and NO, this isn't shameless self promotion for my blog. this is really FOR YOU!
You capture the on line dating thing in amazing clarity. It is something I just started. And as a guy, I dont know what to say.....sometimes I look at other guys that are profiles and wonder WTF is wrong with me, because if these douche bags are getting dates off the site, I must be miserable. Anyway, nice post sister.
Giiirrrrrl I feel ya. EVERY SINGLE SENTENCE. But i swear, be patient, it'll happen. I wanted to kill myself by the sixth month deleting my profile, resigning up, deleting. But if you've stopped by lately, which you probably haven't because your friends are MUCH funnier than I am, but if you had, you'd see. There is hope. I waited. I ignored the serial emailers after they didn't accept my in-person invite. I went out with men who did not seem my type. And then, it finally happened. I got an email from a guy I winked at. He was "dissilusioned" with the online thing and deleting his profile but didn't want to seem rude by not responding. I suggested in person, he said okay and one full month later on a road trip, he pulled to the side of the road to tell me that he is truly in love with me. Had been looking for me forever. And I feel the same way.
So STICK WITH IT GIRL! Your prince will come and you'll have the Onion to laugh about. And DO NOT send them to your blog. That's the place where you let us laugh about them!
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