To read the entire series of articles from the beginning, click here.
ur writer, a single mom in the Midwest, has abandoned her plan to move due to her daughter’s protests and now thinks she should stop focusing so much on finding a man. Here’s what happens when she attempts to put that into practice…
Friday, 9:15 p.m.
I’m such a weakling. I promised myself I’d take my profile offline so I could focus on family and work but I’m still online, cruising and browsing. I could be doing laundry, taking a bath, watching a DVD, reading a book, or planning next
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| Wait. Here’s a cute guy. He’s in great shape and has a nice face. |
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week’s dinner menu (my latest resolution: family dinners on those nights my daughter is with me). I could be doing yoga or working out at the Y, reorganizing my closet, improving my Photoshop skills. Or I could go to bed early for a change.
Instead, I’m online, because on my planet, hope really does spring obnoxiously and stubbornly eternal.
Friday, 9:20 p.m.
The first batch of matches appears on my MacBook screen. Everyone looks familiar to me, either because I live in a small town or these guys have already come up on my searches. I gaze at their faces, some lit by the sun, others by indoor lamps, and almost all deflecting light off their balding heads.
Wait. Here’s a cute guy. He’s in great shape and has a nice face. Hmmm… he’s spiritual but not religious. Good. He probably doesn’t want more kids, which could be good since I’m definitely not interested in producing more offspring. But it could also mean that he doesn’t want any more kids in his life, babies or teenagers.
But his profile is riddled with misspellings, and he seems to have a penchant for randomly capitalizing words. He says he likes classic rock and country music, but hates rap. I glance down to his “turnoffs” and see that he has listed “boldness/assertiveness.”
Forget it. Next.
Friday 9:50 p.m.
I see that Kevin is still online and has been active within the last two weeks. He has changed some of his pictures.
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| I wonder if he just has a problem with smart women. |
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Now it looks as if he’s a one-man Village People. In one picture he’s wearing a hard hat, in another he’s in his volunteer fireman’s uniform. I guess he wants to present himself as mucho macho. In black and white, the guy really does sound perfect. Well-read, compassionate, witty… reading about him now almost has me wishing I could see him again. I remind myself that I’ve already been in a fairly serious relationship with Kevin and know that he’s a bit more complicated (and less appealing) than his profile would suggest.
Next.
Friday 10 p.m.
Oooh. This guy is really cute. Bearded, great smile, successful, outdoorsy, articulate… WOW. I have to wonder why he hasn’t been snapped up yet (though he has been active within three days). He says he’s attracted to someone “on the small side of slender-to-average,” a description so precise and calculated that I can’t help but assume I’m too fat for him. (I often wonder if guys realize that most women think they’re overweight, even when they aren’t, and by describing their ideal match as “on the small side of slender-to-average” they may be filtering out lots of attractive women.) What else… likes New York pizza, minor league baseball, fresh oatmeal cookies. Good, good, good. (It also appears that he and Kevin enjoy some of the same authors.)
I scroll down to his turn-offs: Brainiacs. Power. Sarcasm.
I can understand the aversion to sarcasm. I don’t like it either. But brainiacs? I find that kind of sexy. I wonder if he just has a problem with smart women. I notice that he says he doesn’t want a woman who puts her career before her man. That worries me. So does the fact that he’s a long-distance runner with a healthy diet who exercises daily.
Even so… I’m tempted to contact him. Why? Because in one of his pictures he is holding a golden retriever puppy, and they both look so adorable I can’t stand it. OK. Here I go…
Hey there. My name is Sara and I just read your profile…
