I go through these cycles where I think online dating is a good idea.
Every few months or so I have a complete lapse of reason and start up a dating profile, and it always yields the same results. Full on disappointment coupled with self-doubt, and a genuine fear that I’m going to die alone. I go from hopeful first date to planning how to stop my cats from eating my corpse in no time flat.
The pattern goes something like this.
Step 1: Get Lonely. This is right around the time when my reaction to couples kissing in the supermarket goes from “Aw, how cute” to throwing condoms at them. Because they might as well just have sex already. Show-offs.
Step 2: Find, design, and perfect online profile. Put up three to four pictures, nothing too old, and none with friends that are prettier than me.
I agonize over every self-describing word to show everyone how witty and charming I am. My perfect and brilliantly tailor-made profile will have ’em knocking down my door for sure. It captures me perfectly. It’s a masterpiece, I’ll never have to change it.
I even answer the critical questions that I would obviously ask my soul mate. Like ‘What are six things you can’t live without?’ My single answer is oxygen. See, I’m so witty.
Step 3: Get a ton of responses. Wow, I’m so popular. Who knew there were so many guys out there that wanted a piece of this. I’m sure it has nothing to do with new profiles having first priority in searches.
Step 4: Have no attraction whatsoever to anyone who messages.
Step 5: Stop getting messages and immediately become incredibly self-conscious. Are my pictures too old? Is my profile too wordy? Did I come off too smart? Was I not smart enough?
Maybe my standards are too high. Maybe their standards are too high. Or perhaps prince charming isn’t real and was invented by Walt Disney to sell movies.
Do you think the prince would’ve tried online dating?
Step 6: Completely redo my profile. Empty out entire ‘About Me’ section and replace with “Just ask.”
Step 7: Get the dreaded re-message. The re-message occurs when you receive a message/match from someone who doesn’t remember that the two of you already talked, and had nothing in common.
These can range from getting the same copy and pasted long-winded essay about themselves over again. This time with the specially added tagline “Do I know you? You look familiar.” To a message with significantly less effort than the first one, like “U into hook upz.”
This is usually the final straw. The part where someone holds a mirror up to my pathetic life and says, you could use a tan. Which brings me to my last step.
Step 8: Delete Account. I thoroughly wipe my whole existence off of whatever site I fell victim to, close my computer and go out into the world. In search of a meaningful connection without the separation of gigabytes.
Repeat cycle every six to eight months for worst results.