Thank you, dear readers, for hanging with me through the drama, drama, drama, that has ensued as I’ve dated 55 guys at one time. It’s exhausting being this popular.
I kid. I am in “contact” with one of these men until tomorrow, when the carriage turns into a pumpkin and Cinderella’s free weekend of communication with eHarmony ends.
I was initially a little concerned that I was e-playing this poor dude, whom we’ll call Chuck, since I decided to take up the free communication weekend and run with it without even looking at his profile. I just wanted to penetrate the labyrinth of eHarmony as deeply as possible.
Then today he sent me his list of “Must Have’s and Can’t Stands.”
Good hygiene is one of his absolute requirements.
Boyfriend and I would never work.
Whew. I would have hated to leave a virtual trail of broken hearts behind me upon my exit from Dating World.
Let me catch you up on my experience thus far:
The morning after I had posted part 2 of this series, I rolled out of bed, logged into my email, and discovered that 3 of my matches (whom we shall call Shane, Alex, and Henry) had sent me a “photo nudge,” to tell me they weren’t going to risk anything until they had the assurance that I wasn’t using my awesome personality to obscure a beard, a tumor growing out of my nose, or any number of monstrosities.
I flirted with the idea of doing a social experiment: filling out MORE personality profiles, and putting different pictures on each one, and seeing if guys would go for girls “in their league, below it, or above it” (it sounded much more sciencey and much less “Hollywood” in my head). Then I realized two things:
1) Scientifically, the experiment would be utterly unsound for a variety of reasons, not the least of which is that it’s a stupid idea.
2) My extensive readings in such deep philosophical books as Dave Barry’s Complete Guide to Guys has informed me that guys tend to be completely confident where no such confidence is warranted. While groups of attractive girls will spend hours trying to one-up each other by bemoaning their physical flaws, men comb over their bald spots, cinch their belts tightly to hold up their beer bellies, and still assume that the song “I’m Too Sexy” was written expressly to describe them. Therefore, these guys, from “0” year old Will to Bodacious Frank, would all go for the most attractive picture I posted, regardless of what they were bringing to the table.
I did, however, really want to play this thing out to the end, so in the end, I threw up a couple of pictures I stole from Facebook.
Apparently said photos set off the “Monstrosity Alert” with Shane, Alex, and Henry, because they promptly proceeded to not contact me.
However, my love life did take a startling turn when Bodacious Frank thew his heart into the ring. No, he did not just contact me by sending me the first round of guided questions by which we could communicate. Monsieur Bodacious wanted to go straight to email, which is the eHarmony version of third base. I’ve begun to strongly suspect that Bodacious Frank is not quite as bodacious as he pretends to be, but minus one membership, I have no way of knowing.
I’ve chosen to ignore Bodacious. I’m just not that kind of girl. It’s still the first contact!
I am positively swimming in matches at this point. EHarmony, desperate to hook me in, has been sending me a new sheaf (litter? string?) each day. One of them wrote that he is “so hot he breaks computer screens.” I’ve archived (eHarmony code for “reject”) him. I would hate to dilute that kind of superpower.
The majority of these guys write that they are looking for a sense of humor and passion for God in a woman. Which explains why they backed off en masse once I posted le photo*. It’s cause I look so godforsaken and humorless.
The age bracket had shot up to early 30s by day 3. If I stick around long enough, eHarmony might start sending in the suga daddy reinforcements.
I’ve also realized at some point during this game that I could very well be matched with people who are currently in my daily social circle, and I would have no idea, as I have no access to either pictures or last names. The awkwardness index is at about 95% right now.
Lest I sound like a Negative Nancy, allow me to state on record that there are several I could totally go for: some guy who wants to do development work in Sierra Leone (!!!), a medical missionary in New Zealand, some dude who does something awesome that made him stand out to me, but I’ve misplaced him in the 55 other matches I’ve been trying to keep track of, so oops.
So there you have it. Tonight, free communication weekend comes to an end, and I am, for all intents and purposes, relegated to the role of Wannabe E-Harmony Member.
It’s been a fun (and funny) ride. (I was totally tempted to throw my blog URL up on my profile to see which guys really had the sense of humor with which everyone was so concerned, but decided it was in poor taste). And while there were enough crazies an/or completely unsuitable matches on there to ensure hysterics each time I logged in, there were also enough people on my side of normal for me to understand that this might totally work.
Therefore go forth, lonely hearts, and conquer.
PS: Many of you may be wondering if I plan to continue my eHarmonizing for any length of time. The official statement is that “it isn’t for me at this point,” especially since I feel a bit like a jerk for taking light-heartedly something that others take so seriously. . .but I also know that I’m all kinds of impulsive and tend to rescind official statements almost on principle. We’ll see. If I start dating some guy from Idaho, Prince Edward Island, or some other random place in the next few months, you’ll know.
*Do not fear for my ego, dear readers. I suffer from male pattern overconfidence and am amused, rather than distressed, by Shane, Alex, and Henry’s lack of interest. Perhaps if I had told them I was “bodacious. . .”?