I’m not feeling too keen on this whole Match.com thing anymore: Partly because I’ve been neglecting it, partly because I’m somewhat frustrated with the whole idea and maybe feeling a little guilty about it, but mostly because I’ve been cheating. I never told Match this, but I’m already in a serious relationship... with the Quad News.
Our break up would go something like this: It’s nothing personal, Match. Quad News and I have been together for a while now, and our person-to-inanimate Web site relationship goes way deeper than anything you and I have had going. In fact, Quad News is how I found you. Can’t we just be in a polyandrous relationship? Great, thanks.
If only explaining my connection with the Quad News to actual human beings behind my Match.com experiment were that easy. But it turns out that the actual men behind Match are a little less enthusiastic about being guinea pigs for my matchmaking musings.
Take John for example (nope, not his real name). John and I were messaging for a while, and it seemed like a good connection. Heck, we even had a 97 percent match rating. Then the natural topic of “So, what’s a cute twenty-something like yourself doing on a dating site?” came up, and I decided to tell the truth. “I’m actually writing about my experiences for my independent student paper.” I think I heard the door actually slam shut on that opportunity as he read those words. Needless to say I didn’t hear from John again.
This whole dropping off the face of the earth thing is surprisingly easy when you only know each other via an anonymous Web site. Nate and Mark from last time? I haven’t heard from either of them. After the first week of not getting that call for a second date, I felt myself doing that crazy girl thing I hate. I was left thinking over and over again: “Why hasn’t he called? Should I call him? Maybe I should send him an e-mail. Is he going to call? Should I just forget about it?”
This type of obsessing is precisely the reason why I generally dislike dating and why being a girl can be so annoying. As much as I like to think of myself as an intelligent, quirky, not-your-average-girl girl, I’m still plagued by this gut-wrenching estrogen-driven desire to know why the eff he hasn’t called. I want to scream, what the hell hormones? Give me my rational brain back!
But of course, everything passes with time. Luckily as the semester picked up (and Quad News and I got more serious), I’ve forgotten all about Nark and Mate (are those their names?) After all, a new crop of matches pop up in my inbox every day, ready to disappoint or delight.
Matchmaker, Matchmaker Click Me a Catch: Part III
Published: Saturday, February 27, 2010
Updated: Saturday, February 27, 2010
2 comments
-"John"