Dating has never been my strong suit. In my salad days, my specialty was the drunken hookup evolving into friends with benefits, and eventually mutating into a full-blown relationship. As I got older, wiser, and more versed in the teachings of Iceberg Slim, I learned not to fall in love with every girl that climbs into bed with me.
But this new wisdom also means my pool of eligible women seems to have dried up. Blind dates and setups by friends have fallen flat. I’ve tried my luck in the bars, but to no avail. I've also gotten picky. My special lady can't just be some scrub – she's gotta be crazy, sexy, and cool. The traditional methods of meeting potential dates just weren't working out for me. Up to this point in my life, I’ve resisted the idea of seeking love online, but I realize that in San Francisco, it’s par for the course in today’s dating scene. Freaks and friends alike are doing it; maybe this was the missing outlet I’ve been looking for. Against my better judgment, I signed myself up for five days of dates all planned through my computer.
Scanning the ads for women seeking men on Craigslist is downright depressing. The desperation is palpable. After sifting through the "lovely Asian/European lady seeking older man" and "BBW looking for a man who likes kids" posts, I was left with a paltry list of candidates. The first few didn't pan out.
The self-described "indie girl" who liked drinking grape Dimetapp, and ended her email with “P.S. I heart intercourse," bailed on me after I sent a picture of myself dressed in a gaudy Christmas sweater, a scarf tied around my neck, threatening my pet ceramic cat Whisper with a .357 Magnum. I guess she wasn't that indie.
Deciding to settle for someone a bit more mundane, I replied to “Jenny,” a girl whose ad complained that she’d been stood up on a Craigslist date before and all she wanted was to meet someone just for Chinese food. I love Chinese food! We’re soul mates!
Or maybe not. I sent her a picture of me sticking my head though a carnival cutout of a turtle. "That's weird. Send me a real picture," she responded. Well, maybe she'd be more fun in person. How bad could it be?
We met up on a Sunday and I found out. The date was like going out to lunch with a coworker that you don't really get along with. We made uncomfortable small talk and ate like we had to get back to the office before the supervisor busted our balls. The lunch ended, sealed with a brisk handshake and the knowledge that we’d never have to see each other again.
One Craigslist date was enough for me to realize that I needed a better way to make sure potential dates were fun, into the same stuff as me, and not aesthetically remiss. On advice from a close, trusted friend (NPR), I decided to enter into the world of OkCupid.
OkCupid.com is a free online dating site created by Ivy League math wizards that claims to "help you find you a perfect match" among its stable of "quality singles all around the world." The site urges you to flesh out your profile by entering in a dizzying array of facts and figures about yourself. It’s the kind of self-promoting, attention-starved exhibitionism that’s kept me away from the Facebooks of the world, but just like the narcotics detective that gets hooked, OkCupid quickly became my new crack. I spent hours tweaking my profile, uploading pictures, and poring over hundreds of profiles.
I designed my profile to separate the wheat from the chaff. If you could get past that picture of me dressed like a psychotic Rip Taylor on a children's Christmas special, you were in. My profile was a bit of self-parody, but pretty accurate. Candy, bicycles, rap, video games; I constructed a scattershot pastiche of my personality.
I put together a list of women to contact, but only after slogging through a minefield of not-my-types. Some red flags I quickly learned to spot:
– "Likes to laugh" (Who doesn't)
– All her pictures are with a group of friends (Ok, you're popular, but which one are you?!)
– Myspace T&E photo (Tits and Eyes photo: self-shot from above to make her look like a Hummel figurine with cleavage)
– Pictures with her cat. Might as well just say “Hey boys, me and Mr. Snugglesworth are a package deal!” I'm sorry, no straight man wants to see that.
– Anything remotely related to Burning Man.
After getting a few responses from random ladies (like the “tattooed Christian” who wouldn’t date anyone who didn’t “LOVE Jesus”), I realized that waiting for my dream babe to come to me was clearly not going to work. I decided to go on the offensive, and started by spitting game at some of the ladies on my "favorites" list: "Damn girl, are you from Indonesia? 'Cuz I got some Indo and I needs ya tonight!" "Ay lil' momma, you from Norway? 'Cuz there's Nor way I'm leavin' this club without your phone number!"
Shockingly, I didn’t get as many replies as anticipated. Nevertheless, I was able to line up a series of dates for the next few days.
I met “Mina” at the Latin American Club. She was cute, smart, and pulled all the typical "I'm in to you" moves – touching my arm or leg when she spoke to me, leaning in, and, eventually to make sure I got the hint, telling me she thought I was cute. There was something missing. Maybe it was because it was my first OkCupid date – I didn’t want to commit before I had checked out my other options. I looked for flaws. I didn't like her favorite band. She didn't like one of my favorite movies. Petty, but in a custom-fit, intensely specified dating world, that's the way it goes.
When I met “Alison” at the Geary Club she ordered a ginger ale. "I don't drink anymore. I'm in AA." I apologized for setting the date up in a bar, but she assured me that it was all right. She didn't want to let her recovery rule her life. No matter where I tried to steer the conversation, though, Alison kept bringing it back to her addictions. Booze, coke, sex – she'd had more monkeys on her back than Jane Goodall. The date degenerated into a therapy session. As I said good-bye, I wished her luck. At this point, I could have used some myself.
“Carly” worked as a Manga publisher. Nerdy, yes, but not necessarily a deal-breaker for someone who loves barbarian fantasy movies. Unfortunately, her nerdiness manifested itself in awkwardness and defensiveness on our date at the Homestead. When she returned from the bathroom, I told her I was ready to head home. She took it personally. "What's the problem, did I take too long?" I assured her that I was just tired from work. Once outside, I pulled the old noncommittal “let's be in touch” line on her. “Or not!" she snapped. "I'm going back in to eat some more peanuts!”
When I got home that night from the fiasco with Carly, I was feeling a bit defeated. But needing my next fix, I logged onto OkCupid to check to see if anyone new had contacted me. While on the site, a random IM suddenly appeared on my screen. It was “Pomona,” a girl I had contacted but not yet met. "I hope this doesn't sound creepy or desperate, but I've been out with my friends, and I'm not ready to go home just yet. How about a drink right now?" she asked. I looked at the clock. 11:30 p.m. on a Wednesday. "Sounds like a terrible idea. Let's do it!"
It’s funny how sometimes the worst ideas have the best results. We agreed to meet in the Haight at Trax. When she walked in the bar, I got nervous. She was even hotter than her profile photos. Her hair was mussed up and her face was flushed from a night of drinking – I knew right away I was in trouble. We clicked instantly. Besides being a major babe, Pomona ended up being brilliant and hilarious to boot. When the bartender shouted out last call, we weren’t ready to part ways so we went back to my place for some drunken cooking and a makeout sesh while watching The Real Cancun. The perfect date.
Call me a dude, but I wasn’t totally ready to throw in the towel. Weeks ago, I had signed up to go to Bloodhound for a singles roundup party hosted by ALITE Designs, an urban-outdoor company. I decided I might as well go and scope out the options. Before the Thursday night event, I had emailed ALITE my questionnaire designed to find out how outdoorsy I was, along with some general likes and dislikes and lifestyle information. When I got to the party, they gave me a name tag with cute icons and information based on what I'd written to help match me up with a potential honey. They assigned spirit animal groups to facilitate mingling, and you could compete with partners for prizes.
I mixed and mingled, but after having been on five dates in four days, I was pooped. More importantly, my heart wasn't in it. Yeah, the girls were cute and the concept was cool, but I just kept thinking about how much fun I'd had with Pomona. Harking back to my eighth grade dance days, I posted up by the well-appointed snack table and ate pigs in a blanket while talking to dudes about the Ninja Turtles. I met some cool people, but when the event wound to a close, I found myself texting Pomona to see what she was up to.
I was skeptical from the giddyup about dating online. A week ago if you told me I'd find love on the Internet, I'd have LOLed in your face. I guess you never know when love is going to walk right up and pimp-slap you silly. The modern dating scene can be tough to navigate, but it helps to use all the technology at your disposal to even the odds. According to the sage wisdom of the Velvelettes, finding a good man is like finding a needle in a haystack. I’m sure the same is true for women, but it doesn’t hurt to look.
Take the “find love in a week challenge.” If you are looking for a casual encounter you can rant and rave about, look for a date in the personals section of Craigslist. For a more specialized dating experience, check out OKCupid and socially network your way to an evening of romance. If you want to check out the goods in person, check ALITE’s blog for more events for some hot mingle-ingus.
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Phillip M
N.W. Smith is one of my favorite writers. His stories crack me up.
gknee
aaaahhheeeahhh.....ahhhhhheeeeahhhh
(you know exactly how that sounds)
Angie
Hilar. on soo many levels.
Hammer
Been there a time or two. Great read.
Run Your Mouth