Online Lessons

Six weeks into the two-faced world of online dating, and I'm still single. Six dates total, two of them second dates, three dinners, two pitchers, one bottle of wine, one Bulls game, and I'm still single. So what have I learned? Well, most relationships don’t just hatch, clearly. But I already knew that. Online dating, while logical, easy to use, and beaming with decks of narrowed, specific, scientific matches, isn't quite the brainless, always hit, never miss, two-hands-tied-behind-my-back, blindfolded, easy as pie adventure like shooting fish in a barrel. There are a bunch of other guidelines, considerations, challenges, and obstacles that must be tackled and skills that must be honed the same way post-pubescent teens and budding college hopefuls must learn smooth talking or dance moves at a bar or party or club. What do I mean?

1.) I have a pretty in depth profile. I feel like I have very little to lose by filling out each section with extensive answers, doing what I can to depict myself in honest light, and packing in data to the ‘in your own words’ sections so tight, if my profile had to sit down, it might bust a seam. My logic: the more you know, the better chance I have of finding someone that is on board with me. Seems flawless. Additionally, I thoroughly enjoy when a potential match has taken the time and energy to reciprocate my efforts in an equally impressive profile, brimming with helpful character traits and the occasional useless tidbits that I would find endearing, ultimately grabbing my attention far more than limiting it, and, above all, ensuring that even after a 500-character self-study, they were confident enough to write it, competent enough to write it, and fed up with the complacency that boring profiles get caught it, which, in relation to my own searching, hits the target dead-center, causing a much more likely scenario that I will look at this interest with new found respect and attraction, heightening the chances of meeting in person.

1a.) The exhaustive profiles have worked, and you meet for drinks. After you exchange meaningless pleasantries involving mundane responses to mundane questions, you reach a chasm. In most standard dating scenarios (I use standard here in light terms, since, the more I talk to people, the more I realize that online dating is not only more prominent than you realize, but might very well become the standard soon), you’re jogging along from the starting gate, engaging in seemingly trivial, but in most cases conversation spawning ‘little things’ that you ask each other about, from movies to hobbies, travel destination favorites to hometowns and colleges, and over the course of time, be it the first few hours of a date or the first few weeks of emailing and calling and texting (sexting), you start to pick up pace, snowballing if you will, starting with a nucleus of mutual interest and packing in the cracks with the mortar of laughs and stories, of friends and experiences, of disagreements and understandings, of the bits and pebbles that make up a solidified conglomerate. Well, if online couple A is compared to real life couple B, OC-A doesn’t have the same time line. In fact, 85% of that ‘nucleus’ and probably a good third of that ‘mortar’ have already been disclosed. RLC-B might be breezing along on their first lap, but OC-A took the gun on lap two, yet somehow, is already slightly exhausted. This could be good or bad. When you hit that chasm, if you look back and think, ‘man, it was easy back there, why can’t we just do that?’ you’re already screwed. But if you look at each other, maintain the limited momentum you’ve churned up, and make that jump, well then, you’re already a lap up and feeling pretty good.

2.) I’ve figured it out. Nine out of ten girls spread between the three online sites I belong to (yes, three… it’s fun! ) love hiking, running, dogs, going out on a Friday to a local pub as much as staying in on a Saturday with some wine and a movie, their job, quality food, older men, and reading. They are fun-loving, low-maintenance, sarcastic and humor-appreciative, goal-oriented, they can dress to the nines as often as go out in jeans and a hoodie, and are looking for funny, caring, genuine guys that can handle a confident woman and have similar ambitious life goals. Oh, and somehow, they’ve all traveled the world (who knew ‘favorite hot spots’ would be a running list of tropical islands, famous landmarks, and European staples, while mine consisted of the four or five neighborhoods I frequent in the city?).

2a.) Put together a profile that sets you aside from the rest. I understand you’re a girlie girl as much as you’re a beer a football girl, but so is the rest of the world. Putting together and original profile shouldn’t be the hardest part of this process. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that cookie-cutter profiles gets glossed over more than high schoolers’ lips.

3.) You’ve exchanged a few messages, approved each other’s profiles, flipped through any and all pictures they have posted, and finally, sometimes a day later, sometimes weeks later, decided to find a spot and pop a squat, grab a few drinks, and see if you can prove the commercials right. Most first dates, blind dates, or even second and third dates, hatched from the ‘standard dating scenario’ I proposed earlier, don’t need to worry too much. You’ve more than likely bonded over something small but enticing, and so where you sit, what you drink, how you order, it takes less of a driver’s seat compared to ‘is the spark between us real, or did we just get a little too sauced on a Saturday?’ I know not all ‘standard dating scenarios’ start out that way, but however it came to be, there was a hint of magic in the air, at the book store, on the train, at a sporting event, whatever, and your job is only to capture it without suffocating it. Much more challenging than described, clearly, but nonetheless, different than the online world.

3a.) You might have taken notes on their profile, but you still haven’t met. Try not to sit across from them like you’re on an interview. If you can find a bar without live music, or blaring music, you’re stepping in the right direction. Trying sitting at the bar, so you can talk without staring at each other for hours. Speaking of time, keep it short. I’m pretty sure I was excited when my first online experience lasted 5 hours at a bar, but in reality, too much was disclosed (on top of what my profile already listed), and we were already waist deep in it before date two was even mentioned. And while your tolerances might be bold enough to down a few bottles of wine, do try to keep drinking to a minimum. It was hard for me to even finish typing that sentence, but despite my affinity toward drinking and slight pride I take in handling more than the average American, it serves well to keep yourself under served, at least while you’re searching for that spark.

These are just three of the guidelines that I’ve come to learn in my recent endeavors of the cyber-dating community (anyone else kinda cringe when they read the word ‘cyber?’). In reality, OC-A isn’t too far from RLC-B, but there’s enough of a difference to warrant a different approach. Is it right or wrong, silly or serious, worth it or a total crock of shit, well that I haven’t figured out yet. But so far, I’ve had fun, laughs, drinks, hopes, miscues, mistakes, and experiences, all of which have left me somewhere between confident, optimistic, and concerned, but definitely reinforcing my decision to start down this path in the first place. More lessons to follow, I’m sure, but since I’m not writing an online dating how-to guide, I’m sure you don’t need all the details.