No Match for

The thing about studying is that it piques your interest to do anything and everything but study.  While holed up in a law library in the summer of 2009 cramming for my CPA, all I could think about was my impending move to Arlington and the throngs of male opportunity that would inevitably present themselves.  Match assured me that “it’s okay to look,” and I did just that.  For hours on end.  (You would, too, if your other option was to study how to account for pension plans and business combinations.)

I was intrigued.  This site was rife with twenty-somethings all itching to find someone, or so they purported.  Interestingly enough, almost all of them loved to travel, were laid back, and could still appreciate a night curled up on the couch.  Talk about groupthink. I wondered whether these attributes were embossed onto all Y chromosomes.  Where were the uptight hermits who absolutely hate to cuddle?!

Casual perusal also helped me to identify what I would classify as online dating deal-breakers.  Here’s the thing, boys: when you decide that the best way to catch a girl’s attention is to take a picture of yourself shirtless in front of your bathroom mirror with your smart phone, you’re not getting a response.  Casually leaning against your BMW?  Unimpressed.  And I, too, have a penchant for nice things.  If you’re wearing a pricey watch, I will likely notice.  If you’re not, I will be totally unaffected by it.  That said, evidence of your proclivity for Burberry and Gucci belongs on you American Express statement, not on your Match profile. One last thing – if running spell check on your profile is “definately” too much of a hassle, I can only wish you good luck with someone else.

Undeterred by shirtless men with an affinity for German-engineered cars and who are plagued by orthographic foibles, I joined.  Well, I signed up for their three-day free trial since I was also pretty broke.  Soon multitudes of males were contacting me.  Apparently, I have a great smile.  And everyone wanted to get to know me.  I could get used to this ethereal flattery via the interweb.  I had expended next to zero effort, and I had more people showing interest in three days than during my entire year of graduate school.  I developed hubris for the first time ever.

Those people at are pretty savvy.  By day four, my free trial had expired, and I was still foaming at the mouth for online attention.  I bit the bullet and paid the $35 one-month subscription fee.  (It should be noted that I was still two months away from living in Arlington, where I had prematurely designated my city of residence.)  Once they have your credit card number, you’ve lost control.  Within weeks, the correspondences started to wane.  What used to constitute a good day’s worth of contact was what would come through my inbox in a week.  I assumed I was no longer a daily special on the menu.

Once I made the move to Arlington, what ensued was a very long string of dates.  Dating has been very fun; it can also be supremely taxing.  More than anything, I’ve learned a great deal about myself.   What follows are completely true accounts of some of my dating experiences, online and otherwise.  It’s been a long time since I’ve first pledged allegiance to the movement of online dating.  I’m weary from it at this point and have to submit, I think I am no match for




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