Guys: Getting a Yes

I always find it highly amusing that online men frequently open with the line: "You're gorgeous. We should get together for dinner & drinks." More often than not, the men digitally uttering this line are definitely not gorgeous, and they make no attempt whatsoever to win my favor by selling themselves. They skip any getting-to-know-you chit chat and go right for "dinner & drinks." Translated, "I think you're hot, probably not very bright, and I expect to get you drunk enough to sleep with me."
     Guys, if you're serious enough about finding a woman that you're willing to pay an online service for the privilege of being able to email potential dates, you might want to put a little more effort into your "game." Anyone with the ability to read at a first grade level nowadays knows women want, no, need to be romanced. We don't want to hear about what you expect in a future match but nothing about why we should be interested in you. At least pretend what we want counts by making an effort to sell yourself a little bit.
     We also want to hear the truth. Saying you're an "entrepreneur" and posting no income not only screams dishonesty, it paints you as slightly delusional. (Especially when paired with a self-ascribed body type of "athletic and toned" when your head shot resembles a Halloween pumpkin.) I think the very existence of men like Chris Hemsworth who, let's face it, for all intents and purposes appears to be pretty damn close to perfect, has conditioned normal men to believe they have to be more than what they are to find love. Of course, then there's the annual SI swimsuit issue that stimulates the belief that for a woman to be eligible she must be built like a human fashion doll. (Tip: those girls' bodies do not occur in nature and typically require trading bone for silicon. They are also completely unavailable to anyone who cannot afford to drive a hand-built Italian sports car.)
     The truth is, all you need to be is yourself. The real you. Expose that in your profile and you're halfway to meeting a wonderful woman who will love you for all that you are. Unless the real you is a freak, predator or criminal, in which case you really shouldn't be seeking a friend online until you get that little problem worked out.
     I'll be honest, most of the profiles I read online for the men in my age range make me go, "meh." It's easy to tell right away why they're still single. (Here's a good real-world example: "Ladies...i like narrow hips." Good luck with that!) The ones that really grab my attention are devoid of the standard fluff that men believe will attract women. (Yes, that's the cute puppy pictures, motorcycle shots and "I love kids" or "look how awesome and well-traveled I am.") Normally they're thoughtful and funny without being overtly sexy, shallow or narcissistic. Frankly, I'd rather hear that you're secretly an awesome gardener and love action movies than read yet another mundane diatribe about the cool places you like to travel and the fine wines you drink. (Again, not really believable when paired with pictures of you in camo or fishing gear holding up a dead animal.) I definitely DON'T want to hear about what was wrong with the last 20 women you dated, or 1 or 2 you married. (If the number is higher than 2, again, seek help before seeking the next ex-Mrs. You.) Here's an example of a clear tip-off regarding your unresolved issues, courtesy of narrow hips guy: "Looking for a petite or fit female that is not short tempered and does not like being the center of attention in groups or crowds. Takes care of her body and is easy going. Open communication and is easy going." So, what you're saying is that, after squeezing out 3 kids for you, your ex's hips got too wide and you hated that other people paid attention to her in a crowd. She obviously didn't want to hear about your shallow, control freak attitude toward her and rebelled. AND you're still thinking SHE was the problem.
     Before you hit submit on that online "about me," make sure you read it carefully. Does it reflect who you really are? Does it come across as elitest, angry, bitter or boring? (Hint, if the word combo "laid-back" appears anywhere in the first 500 words, boring applies.) Does it paint you as a TV-loving couch potato with no ambition and no career? Could you possibly be describing yourself as a creep in your attempt to come across as sexy? If you're having trouble deciding, imagine you're reading a woman's profile. Would you want to date the girl it describes?
     Be careful your profile doesn't rule out a potential match with superficial requirements like "beautiful," "blond," "narrow hips" or an age range inappropriate for your own. (If you're looking for women who were in elementary school when you graduated, you're WAY out of your age range. Plus or minus 7 years is appropriate from a psychological compatibility perspective.) Post pictures that are an accurate description of you and you will surely attract more than one woman who fits into YOUR range of attraction. Sorry ugly or overweight hopefuls - women who are substantially prettier than you will not likely respond no matter what you say to them. Get over it and start looking for someone who actually looks compatible standing next to you. Just because Mick Jagger dated super-models doesn't mean you will have the same kind of luck. I'm pretty sure his fame and fat bank account helped him out substantially. And if your search method exclusively involves clicking through pictures and emailing the pretty ones, remember this - beauty ALWAYS fades and is rarely an indication of personality compatibility.
     Finally, make sure you read a woman's profile before you contact her. Simply liking the picture of an attractive woman (assuming you're not Chris Hemsworth) is virtually a guaranteed rejection. Women over the age of 25 want to be noticed for who they are more than what they look like, regardless of how they actually look. (Even the gorgeous ones.) Women under 25 are not really interested in anyone over 30 unless they happen to be rich beyond imagination and there's no way that relationship will last beyond the depths of a shared bank account.
     Ah, I almost forgot: in the end, you need to stand out from the other fifty guys who emailed the pretty woman that same day. Here's the secret, make a connection to her profile. "Hey, I see you love independent films. Me, too. You ever attend the local festival?" That works so much more effectively than, "Wow, you're pretty!" "Hi beautiful" or my absolute favorite, "Hey there, sexy!" Oh, and don't freak out and fire back with a snarky remark if she says "no thank you." It will just land you on the "hidden profile" list. Count your lucky stars you didn't get stuck paying for dinner and drinks with someone who was never interested in you and move on. Online or in person, dating is still a game of numbers and chemistry. You just have to keep trying until you find that special one.

I'd Date More if My Clothes Weren't Handwash-Only

When you’re over 30 and single, it seems like life becomes a recurring snippet of Bridget Jones’ Diary, sans the two hot men locked in a comedic epic battle for your affections. (We could all only be so lucky.)  Every social interaction includes some happily married person asking “why aren’t you dating anyone?” The reality for us single moms is, there are more chores to be done than time. And since my ex’s 2013 New Year’s resolution was clearly to stop paying child support, maid and nanny services just aren’t a possibility.
     Yeah, yeah. I hear “you have to make you a priority” all the time. Wow, that sounds great! Want to babysit so I can go troll happy hours or accept a date from one of the many hideous weirdos offering to be my prince on Match.com? No? Really. Okay. Well, I’ll make me a priority as soon as my daughter turns 16 and starts driving herself to her extracurricular activities every day. Maybe by then, she’ll actually help with the dishes in a meaningful way, too.
    To some degree, online dating is a blessing as much as a curse for people like me. Yes, it cuts down significantly on the amount of time you have to invest away from your chores and kids in order to meet someone you might actually like. The only problem is, like many single moms, I only get two free nights a month to myself, if that. By the time they roll around, (assuming my ex actually shows up for his designated visit times), I’ve either got too much work to catch up on or am too exhausted to go out. But, I have resolved to put more effort into it for 2016, if that counts for anything with those married friends and family so traumatized by my independent state. I solemnly swear I will accept at least one date per month if any of the men who ask seem sane and resemble a decade-older version of Armie Hammer or any of the hot 30-something blue-eyed actors named Chris. Okay, okay, I’ll leave the celebrity resemblances requirement off.
     Resolutions aside, the universe seems to be screaming, “Hey, you’ve had your shot. Let the childless women do the dating now. Get back to work!” No matter how hard I try to make time for myself, fate intervenes. The kid gets sick. The dog eats a poisonous plant and gets sick. All over the floor. I get a flat tire. I get sick. (Probably thanks to the kid.) There’s an emergency deadline at work. My boss gets sick. (Meaning more work for me.) I hurt myself. The toilet leaks. School holiday. Ex gets “sick” (i.e. goes to Florida) and cancels weekend possession. Again. Homework includes a weekend project…that requires shopping for special supplies.  Mini fridge dies and requires sanitization. HOA is upset that the lawn guy skipped a week due to rain. Oh, and paint that trim 40 feet up that no one can see unless they’re standing in your driveway.  There’s just never enough time in the day. What’s a single girl to do?
     Yes, Mom, I will try to find you a new son-in-law, I swear. Getting right on top of finding that neurosurgeon who looks like Troy Aikman (ack!) you dreamed I'd marry. Just as soon as I get done washing the six loads of hand-wash/line-dry-only clothes piled up in the hallway. I should be done by November.
    Leave a comment if you’ve got a creative solution that doesn’t involve armies of maids and a full-time nanny.

The Dog that Caught the Car

Not so long ago, I let a younger co-worker (late 20's) talk me into hanging at a local hotspot with him on a Friday night. Most of the crowd was in their twenties, maybe a few in their early 30's, but almost no one near my age who wasn't part of an obvious group of co-workers. About 9 PM, HE sashays in. You know - that guy in the over-priced designer suit who's clearly over 45 but on the prowl for a little young bauble to drape over his arm. It was the most entertaining thing I saw all night. For hours, girl after spandex-clad-20-something girl fled from him, (some AFTER receiving a free drink), yet he continued to circulate the club targeting only the youngest, most fit ladies in the building. By the time I bailed out on my co-worker (around midnight), Delusional Daddy had become the joke of the night. "Was that normal?" I had to ask my friend at one point. Apparently it was.

This travesty of dating failure is not exclusive to bars. If you join any online dating service that lets you specify an age range, a large number of the men over 40 will list their desired future date as being under 35 (or their age minus 10+ years). Naturally, unless those men happen to own their own island or jet, they rarely succeed in finding a woman under 30 willing to go out with them, though they never seem to give up that dream.

The wonderful thing about the internet is how easy it is to find evidence of what happens when that midlife dog finally catches his shiny new little sports car. Chat rooms, blogs, forums; they're full of 20-something ladies bragging about duping "old men" out of their money, getting bored, and moving on. Quite often, those younger ladies are dating a man over 40 for his money and seeing a younger guy they're actually attracted to on the side. Sometimes even living with their younger boyfriend, who is either unaware of the scheme or in on it. These girls, (and yes, they're just girls), make no bones about laughing at their older dates in a public forum, knowing they've got the cover of internet anonymity to protect them and their revenue stream.

On occasion, I'll see a younger woman post how sad she is to break up with her 40+ beau because he just can't keep up and the physical side of the relationship is unsatisfactory. Normally, the lucky guy has no idea he's about to get dumped and may even believe he is keeping up with his younger gal. (Sorry, the little blue pills just don't up the energy level where it needs to be.) What's even sadder is she's rarely lamenting the loss of his company. Instead she'll say something like, "Sad - he was kind of hot for an older guy."

What you rarely, and I mean RARELY see, is a younger woman talking about seeking an older man for a lasting relationship. Women in their twenties will openly admit that the few amongst their friends who are attracted to older men generally have some pretty severe daddy issues, which opens a whole new can of worms.

While it is true that during our twenties, we women often are attracted to men who are a few years older than we are, it's more because most men under 25 are still functioning on incomplete frontal lobes, and it's obvious. However, as we approach thirty, the age range of men we're attracted to tends to narrow to within a few years of our own age. Why? This is mainly because we have more in common with men who attended high school and college in the same time frame and because physiologically we're more compatible. There is also a lot to be said for life stages, too. After thirty, unmarried women will generally hear that biological clock ticking and want to settle down with someone who has a decent career and a desire to start a family, too. If that guy has waited past 40 to start a family, there's always that question in the back of the younger woman's mind as to why. The answer we tend to form ourselves is normally along the lines of "commitment issues" or "loser."

Of course, the great thing about specified age ranges in online dating services is it lets a woman know up front that a guy has issues. If you're over 40 and only interested in women who are younger than you, chances are we want to avoid you like the plague because you're either exceedingly shallow or a control freak looking for a kid to push around rather than a partner for life. Thanks for the warning!

For you guys who actually want to meet a life partner, try seeking someone within 5-7 years of your own age. That's younger AND older. While men mature faster than women up until the age of 30, we tend to level out after 35, when having a life history and life stage in common become bigger factors in the future success of our relationships. And for you 40+ men who THINK you're keeping up with a that 25-year-old: put a chain on your wallet and stop popping the blue pills. You're going to give yourself a heart attack and she's still going to laugh at you with her friends when you're not around. And yes, she is the car and you are the dog, and we all know how that usually works out.

Spots & Stripes

One of my favorite moments in a cheesy movie is when Beatrice Stanhope gives George the stripes and spots speech in "George of the Jungle." (Yes, I freely admit I own it on DVD.) It's a classic moment, especially when it comes to the handling of meat in the scene.

I've often flip-flopped on who I might side with should I have been caught in the middle of that conversation. On one hand, almost every fairy tale out there tells the story of someone of humble origins falling in love with a prince or princess and marrying "up." The newly anointed royalty seal their storybook ending with a kiss and ride off into the sunset. (Or maybe that's just westerns. I digress.)

Can this really work, though? Can two people from such completely different worlds REALLY survive as a couple?

I guess it depends on how deep those differences really go. A once-poor girl (or boy), with the right manners and education, can often acclimate to the "upper class" quite well. And maybe she will actually feel like she belongs. Or maybe she'll always feel like she's living on another planet, never quite at home. I should know - I'm one of those once-poor girls. (Most of the time, I feel like I'm sandwiched between Thurston Howell the Third and the Dukes of Hazzard.)

What rarely works out is when the worlds two people currently live in seem to orbit different suns.

Despite my humble beginnings, I'm educated, well-raised and well-mannered. Thanks to those beginnings, I'm a quality over quantity kind of person. A little bit of spots, a little bit of stripes. (I might actually be a Dr. Suess character. Digressing again.) The world I live in is upper-middle-class America. My neighbors drive German cars and we all own houses big enough that my childhood home would fit into the bottom quarter of them. Our kids often have private coaches and attend the kind of schools where the majority of the students show up in designer clothes and $200 boots. (Exercising a modicum of sanity, I do NOT let my kid wear shoes that cost more than an average phone bill.) The breadwinners in my neighborhood work insane hours and the interior of every home is beautifully appointed. Parties are generally tame affairs replete with expensive wines and foreign cheeses. Little girls' birthday parties involve mani- pedi's and 4-figure decorations.

Thanks to the magic of online dating, I frequently hear from men still living back in that "humble" part of the world. They hunt, fish and drink cheap beer for fun. They drive pick-up trucks with giant wheels and live in houses that can be hooked up to the backs of those trucks and moved at any time. Their education rarely exceeds the twelfth grade. Their greeting usually involves the line "You're so purty." (Okay, most of the time they spell it right but the accent is implied by the cowboy hat, pointy-toed boots and camo pants.)

The reason I generally tell them "no thanks" is not because their home has metal sides or their clothes came from the same store where they picked up toilet paper and motor oil. I say it because we speak completely different languages. Frankly, I don't understand half of what their online profiles are trying to convey. I don't see anything we have in common, either. While I am by no means a snob, I'd stick out like a sore thumb at a fishing tournament. I'd also be bored out of my mind.

On the flip side, I don't see a guy who enjoys spending his time watching Nascar races and bass fishing on TV between trailer BBQs and country music festivals feeling super comfortable at a black-tie charity gala or even my company's holiday formal in the snooty part of town. We probably wouldn't have much to talk about, either, given my version of a political discussion involves a deep understanding of macro-economics and geo-political science rather than the traditional "Rep-tard" vs. "Dummycrats" discussions that seem to incomprehensibly find their way onto social media threads I follow.

Does that mean there are no men outside my educated suburban lifestyle that might be interesting or enlightening? No. But it does mean that sometimes there's a canyon between worlds that can be extraordinarily difficult to cross, only to find a pile of dirt on the other side.

So, I don't know if I'm a stripe or a spot, but I do know that regardless of which species I belong to, it does little good to intermingle if we have absolutely nothing in common. We might be able to overcome a fine wine vs. domestic beer disagreement, but a lack of commonality across the board is likely too much to combat simply because that girl in the spots looks awfully purty in them. Gentlemen, rather than feeling offended I passed you by because your education and social circle don't match up to mine, thank your lucky stars I said no and you didn't need to carry a dictionary to converse with me. (I will do the same.) If you want to be successful with online dating, take a moment to read a profile. If you don't get more than 50% of what the writer is talking about, move on. I assure you, there are plenty of lovely ladies out there who would really enjoy huntin' and fishin' with you.

My Dear Married Friends

I realize I am 45 years old and single. Trust me, this is for the better given my ex spent most of his time and money snorting and shooting mind-altering chemicals. My being single is not a precursor to a plague that will wipe out the lovely, Mayberry-like appeal of our neighborhood. You will not catch it by hanging out with me and I promise, I am not interested in your husbands. (You've already damaged them enough to ensure a long happy marriage. But I love ya anyway!)

So why, oh why, must you continually advise me that my current state of singleness is an unhealthy condition that requires rapid repair? Yes, I actually look at that dating service you signed me up for last year on occasion. I let it expire, but the weirdos have not gone away. No, there really don't seem to be any eligible bachelors online looking to meet a woman my age. Sure, I got plenty of offers for dates (and other unmentionable activities), but the majority of the men were at least 10 years my senior or junior and the remainder were simply insane.

 

Really, it's okay to be single. It's okay to only date when I meet someone worthy of paying a sitter double the going rate to watch my hyper-active child. But most of all, it's okay for you to continue to include me in your lives even if I don't have a man attached to mine. I'm still the same person I was when I wasn't single, only without the giant boil attached to my life that made me miserable enough to want to flee to another country.

 

Sure, if you can find someone who still has his hair and teeth, isn't built like a keg or a marshmallow, has an IQ over 130 and is devoid of a criminal record, hidden wife and mental illness, you are welcome to show me a picture and attempt to arrange a meeting. But PLEASE, give me the opportunity to yay or nay before you invite your nerdy bald friend with a Napoleon complex to our next holiday get-together in the hopes of yanking me out of my happy single reverie. Call me shallow, but you will never be able to call me desperate. Being over 40 and single isn't a disease, and I don't need to be cured unless that cure is actually someone worthy of my time.

 

If you insist upon helping me with my single situation, then keep your eyes peeled for a 40-something version of a blue-eyed movie star named Chris sans the ego and penchant for saline-inflated body enhancements. That, or feel free to pitch in for a pair of those enhancements and a trip to Dr. DeWrinkle so I've got a shot at meeting someone my own age. Until you find him, let's focus on something, anything other than my dating life. Okay?

Analysis Paralysis - Dating Research vs. Online Creeping

The last time I was a part of the single and dating world, “dating services” consisted of a handful of local companies that charged you the price of a used car to record a bad video tape and let you wade aimlessly through volumes of very basic printed profiles and photos to decide if you wanted to see the video. (These so-called “profiles” shared little more than age, race, level of education and career.) If you liked a video, they let you leave a note for the potential match which may or may not get answered. I know this because I worked for one of those services and felt pity for the poor schmucks who signed up for it and had to watch hours of video if they wanted to find a decent match.
However, for those who participated in the service, dating was a lot like it was for those of us who met the traditional way – in a bar. You saw someone you liked, if they liked you back, you exchanged numbers or agreed to meet somewhere for lunch or dinner to figure out if you still liked each other without the beer goggles on.  If that went well, you went on a “real date,” maybe more. Either way, you actually communicated before you started going out.

Thanks to the internet, the process has become accelerated and hyper-analytical. The rules have truly changed. First of all, there’s the initial showing of interest. In a bar, you’d lock eyes with someone you wanted to meet, maybe even smiled at him or her. If they found you attractive, you talked. If you didn’t click, one of you said, “Well, it was nice talking to you,” and you moved on. If you liked each other, see previous paragraph. If you met someone through some other normal means, like work, church, school…you often got to know each other through repeated social interaction, building a non-romantic relationship before mutually deciding to take it further.

With online dating, you look at a picture. If you like it, you look at more pictures, read a profile and maybe watch a video. You see height, weight, job, salary, general location, preferences, education, last time they pooped…Okay, maybe not that much – but it’s a lot of information before you even decide if you want to talk to someone. You have no idea if they’re talented, have an outstanding sense of humor or amazing intellect before you yay or nay them the majority of the time. There is no opportunity to win someone over with your rapier wit. It’s almost like buying a car, without the fun of all the test drives. And I’m betting most miss out on meeting some great people just because their profile picture isn’t very good.

IF you and your potential match happen to manage to get past that first phase of extreme analysis, most seem to want to skip past the harmless getting to know you over a non-threatening  coffee or lunch initial meeting and go straight to a first date. I can’t tell you how many times the first message I get from a potential connection contains a phone number and an invitation to, you guessed it, dinner and drinks.  No, “Hi, how are you? I found xyz interesting about you. What’s your favorite color?”  (My first instinct is normally, no thanks, you’re not serious about getting to know me.) Sadly, there seems to be a higher expectation to go straight from the first date to getting physical, which probably explains the “and drinks” that seems mandatory with most first date suggestions.

The mystery is all gone, replaced by research and analysis. It seems almost acceptable for your digital matches to research you online before and after that first date. After all, why bother getting to know someone by actually spending time with them when you can just type her name into a search engine?
Because it’s creepy, that’s why. While I fully advocate running the background check to uncover criminal records, predator registrations and hidden spouses before sharing your home address and personal information with your new date; digging into someone’s digital background before you’ve built any kind of rapport can induce a solid case of the heebie-jeebies. Not to mention border on an illegal invasion of privacy, depending on how far you take it.

So, when should you check out your date’s online history? I’d say about that point you decide to start meeting out of the safety of the public eye, but certainly not before you’ve been out on at least two or three dates.  Let’s make it clear: if you don’t trust the person enough to tell him or her you’d like to check out their background before you give out your home address, you probably shouldn’t be dating. Basic courtesy and a need to avoid looking like a stalker both dictate you ask permission before you Google your date’s name. Besides, if your date has nothing to hide, they’ll likely be happy to share with you enough personal info to ensure the results you get back are for the right person.  (Let’s face it, there are a LOT of John and Jane Smith’s out there.) And if you’re asking too soon, they’ll let you know. If they freak out when you ask, they probably have something to hide. If you find something that raises an eyebrow, talk to your date about it. (Unless he shows up on the registered offender’s list, in which case you should stop communications entirely if you know what’s good for you.)

Here’s another tip: don’t stalk your match’s profile. Most online services let people know who’s looking at their profile. If you check a potential date’s page more than once or twice after you start chatting, it will start to feel like stalking and may cost you a date. Once you’ve started emailing or IM’ing, set yourself up a bookmark or save your last message so you don’t have to view the profile each time you start a conversation. That will help keep you from looking like a weirdo. There is a very fine line between appearing interested and obsession.

Now, sometimes the online service can work against you in this department.  There are a couple of interesting gentlemen who, for some unknown reason, Match.com wants to place in my matches way more often than all the others. One of them looked like someone I’d probably like to meet. We share the same passions, live in the same area, and seem to fit the characteristics of what we’re each looking for in a date. Unfortunately, it’s either in or out with that service. So, after this particular match popped up a third time, I sent him a message: “Hey, sorry to look like a stalker. I promise it is not intentional. This looney service keeps showing me your profile and I don’t want it to delete you from my connections before I hear ‘hello’ or ‘no thanks’ back.  Feel free to ignore any further clicks since I have no idea how many more times it’s going to suggest you.” His response was positive. Who knows where it will go?  At least I avoided looking like a creeper with someone Match.com’s limited algorithms seem to think might be my prince.

In the end, this new culture of online dating can be friend or foe. If you accept the fact that nothing you see online is ever going to paint the full picture of a complex human being, you may just be able to meet a few really cool people, maybe even fall in love. But if you dismiss every potential match because they fail to meet one or more arbitrary criteria you’ve set for your potential dates, your analysis paralysis will only lead to a long, lonely life in solitude. As long as you have the right things in common (religious preferences, marital status, phase in life, lifestyle) and feel that pull of mutual attraction, any other characteristics will likely seem unimportant in the end. Don’t let your brain get in the way when it comes to matters of the heart.

Online Dating or a Pizza Menu?

Dear Online Dating Service, I want an underwear model who has an IQ over 10 but under 130, likes to watch football and doesn’t mind it when I act like a lecherous jerk, nor the fact that I look more like a troll than a rock star.

I swear the nature of online dating breeds some pretty bad behavior and wishful thinking. So many of the profiles I see read like a pizza order:

I’ll take one tall, leggy, big-boobed bleached blond with a sprinkling of intelligence. But not too smart – she might notice I’m not attractive or rich.

If they’re not pizza orders, they’re making fun of the women who are online. Seems self-defeating:

Please don’t tell me about your cats. If you have them, I won’t be dating you. Also, we know you’re all looking for a stable Christian with a good job who wants a family. Get over it.

Then again, there is probably a good reason most of these guys are still single. Maybe it’s just that the safety of hiding behind a keyboard gives them the audacity to be themselves. At least in a bar, they have to pretend to be a nice guy long enough to get your phone number.

The sad thing is, the fast food menu culture of online dating is likely depriving many poor male hopefuls of some great dates and even better relationships. Rather than taking a chance on an average girl who is actually about the right level of attractiveness for him, your typical online guy holds out for Ms. Perfect. Or at least does his best to meet her. He skips over suggested matches with women who share his interests, have great smiles and wonderful senses of humor because their photos show no cleavage or lack the bombshell effect he’s hoping the service fee he paid will buy him.

And women, we do the same. Sure, there are some exquisite-looking men online. While I suspect the majority of them are actually using someone else’s photos, a few are genuinely handsome – and know it. And if they aren’t narcissistic pigs who are just looking to rack up bedpost notches, they’re likely being flooded by messages from every eligible woman on the internet. With so many to choose from, the chances of them getting around to talking to you, no matter how awesome you are, are pretty slim.

The temptation to fall into the shallow trap is strong. I catch myself clicking “no thanks” at times without glancing at a profile because the guy just isn’t attractive at all. Or because he’s too old or too young, too heavy or too bald. I can’t seem to help myself. I’ll get that little rush of excitement when Mr. Perfect pops up on my screen, only to remind myself after I click that "like" button that he’s never going to message me back. (Sometimes they do, but usually what they have to propose is NOT tantamount to a long-term relationship.)

But the bad behavior seems to be spreading like wildfire amongst online datings’ men. They all are convinced that, now that they’ve paid their fees, the online dating gods will guarantee them a young hot thing who is willing to bear their children and overlook that giant hairy mole in an unfortunate location. They are shocked and offended when us ladies who are obviously not their age, their type or even on the same planet as them, say no.

And ladies, you are safe at no age. I’m 45. You’d think finding a man born near the same decade as me wouldn’t be that hard. But no. If a man is 45, he wants to date a girl who’s at most 35. If he’s 25 or 55, he wants to date me. Why? I have nothing in common with guys in either age group, but they message me anyway. So far I’ve yet to hear from a normal eligible man in his 40’s. Instead, I hear from scores of 30-somethings, hundreds of 50’s and 60’s, and even a septuagenarian who just wanted me to give birth to his one and only heir in exchange for my choice of homes in two major cities. (Yeah, good luck with that.)

For online dating to truly work, people need to learn to be realistic, and to treat each other like human beings. Guys, we ladies aren’t pretty baubles bred to entertain you, and we’re not the enemy. Treat us with a modicum of respect, open your mind to meeting someone slightly less attractive than Adriana Lima, and start asking some real women out. I assure you, going on real dates with real women is a lot more fun than waiting around for your super model dream date to accept your IM request.

Mr. Too Good to be True

Let’s face it, these online dating services are loaded with frogs. I’m talking the round, bumpy, icky kind. Every day I get email, “winks,” and “likes” from scores of them. Most apparently are quite unaware that they are frogs.

 

Occasionally, a picture pops up that makes you go, “wow!” His profile seems perfect. He’s in the right age range, has all his hair, beautiful physique and loves puppies and rainbows after long walks on the beach. He wants to buy lots of presents for some special lady, but just hasn’t found his one true love.

 

If it sounds too good to be true, there’s a good chance something isn’t so true about that profile. Here’s some things to look for after you get done drooling over the lovely black & white photo he posted with his shirt blowing open revealing his perfect abs as he strolls along a gorgeous water front.

1. His photos all look like they’ve been shot by a professional photographer. They probably were. And aren’t of him. They are, however, some Abercrombie & Fitch model (or wannabe) and he found those pics unprotected on that guy’s portfolio site.
2. His profile details are incredibly vague but read like a romance novel. Most of today’s online dating services offer professional profile writing assistance. If his written “voice” isn’t unique and a little too perfect, it’s probably a paid advertisement created just to get your attention.
3. His details don’t match his photos or the pics seem oddly familiar. For example, I received a wink from Jason Momoa. (If you don’t know who that is, think the hot modern Conan or Khal from Game of Thrones.) Now, I’m assuming Jason does not live in Texas. Nor is he over 40 seeking women 25-35 in Texas, and his build is far from “about average.” (The photo faker did try to say he worked in entertainment/the arts/modeling, just to give it a little edge of realism.) Luckily, the service offers a “Report a concern” link that allows you to report the fraudulent use of photos and faked profiles, and you should.
4. Other details don’t add up. For example, he may be a student but lists his income over $150,000. This is not likely. He claims to be a model but has no photos. He’s a lawyer but education doesn’t list a degree. He has an advanced degree but couldn’t spell his way out of a paper bag. Don’t get too nit-picky because we’re all human and make mistakes once in a while, but when too many things don’t add up, take note and move on.
5. There are no photos. This is generally a red flag. I’ll go into detail on that in a later post.

The best test is to just message the guy and ask him about something in his profile. If his photos look more like selfies or are a compilation of those kinds of pictures we all gather over time, there’s a possibility you’ve actually stumbled upon a frog prince. Keep in mind, though, that it is likely 2000 other women are messaging your prince, too, so he may not get back to you. Ever. And that’s okay.

 

(Originally posted on my old blog.)

Blocking's Not Just for Football (Rerun)

If you're feeling deja vu, it's because this one has been relocated from my FrogKisses.net blog, with a little editing, of course.

I was pretty mortified when, sitting in a meeting with my boss, projecting my screen in 72″ of high def glory, “Welcome to [insert online dating service name]” popped up in my email notification for all to see.  Well, for both of us to see. That was the moment I learned I’d been signed up for online dating by some possibly highly misguided but well-meaning friends. After laughing uproariously for an inordinate amount of time, my boss suggested it might not be such a bad thing, so I decided to give it the old college try.

The first day, thanks to my friends using a particularly flattering photo from my Facebook page, I received 200+ emails from my newly matched guys. 90% of them had zero in common with me. I’m pretty sure 100% of them had simply seen the picture, thought, “Oooo, pretty,” and sent me email. I spent more time than I want to admit clicking a link that said “no thanks” then a little x to remove said prospects from my view.

Ah, but then there was BigBoi# something. A weightlifter. A self-proclaimed, self-made rich man. Judging by the photos, the human, African American incarnation of Conan the Barbarian. His profile had more spelling and grammar errors than my daughter’s first grade essay on "Gery Wolfs." He lived at least 2 hours away (thank Heaven!). Seriously, there was nothing to indicate that Big Boi had anything remotely in common with my geeky, art-loving, pop-singing, movie house persona. “Beautiful, I can’t wait to meet you. My number is ###-###-####. Text me.”

“No thanks. I’m afraid we’re just not a good match.” (Abbreviated version of the service-provided standard rejection letter.)

“Beautiful. Why not?”

“Sorry, you remind me too much of my ex.” Really? I can’t believe I was dumb enough to answer that question. Okay, I thought I was being nice.

“Beautiful, please let me know when you change your mind.”

Delete. Moving on. I thought my profile said “Geek seeking EDUCATED PROFESSIONAL” or something like that. I don’t know. I didn’t write it. Hence all the Star Trek references. I’m glad I have the password. Need to change that.

Fast-forward a couple of weeks and a couple thousand more “no thanks” clicks.

“Beautiful, have you reconsidered yet?”

Oh look, Big Boi is back. Yay. “No. Still no thanks.”

“Beautiful, please! Why not?”

“Lots of reasons. But first of all, you’re just not my type. Then there’s the distance, [insert list of criteria not met].”

“You can sell your house. We will build a big, beautiful custom house together to raise our childrens in.”

Ugh. Block.

So, I updated my profile, kicking it off with a list of qualities I did NOT appreciate in a man that would inspire me to instantly click “no thanks.” Little things like, being older than my dad, overweight, uneducated, bald, smokers. Cowboy hats. Obviously seeking one night stands. The unemployed. I added a specific age range. In caps. Noted my dislike of men who don’t read profiles but just click “like” because they think a girl is pretty.

Enter Ariesman, his main photo shining with all the creepy sweetness of Freddy Krueger under his “seeking sensuous relationship” request. “Beautiful model!” he commented on one photo. “Gorgeous!” on another. Then emailed me an invitation to coffee.

“No thanks. We’re just not a good match.” And you didn’t read a DARN thing in my profile. You’re older than my dad and kinda freaking me out.

New photo comment from Ariesman: “And you call yourself slender???”

Sigh. Block.

Online Dating Lesson #1: Blocking can be your friend, especially when “no thanks,” isn’t received so well or a guy goes stalkerazzi on you. Some of the more paranoid types will even make a preemptive strike against rejection and let you know you’re too picky before you’ve told them no. Block them, too. Nothing good can come of wasting your time arguing with the romantically insane. Save your efforts for those few little froggies who might actually be sporting a crown.

I'm Back

Yeah, yeah, for former fans of my old FrogKisses.net site, it's been awhile. Never fear - I did not get married. In fact, I don't think the pool of potential princes has ever been more riddled with frogs - mostly old, wrinkled, raison-looking fellows who confuse "daughter age" with "dating age."

So, my plan for the new blog site is to first migrate over the old posts. The good ones, anyway. Some were kind of not funny or just plain boring. Those won't make the cut. Just bear with me as I review and re-post them. All the old pages should be restored before long as well.

As always, I look forward to hearing your dating adventures and questions in the comments section. You must register and not be spammer to join the conversation as all comments will be reviewed for content (not spam) and appropriateness (not offensive) before publication.

Thanks for rejoining the catastrophe that is single life for the age-impaired! If you're new to my blog, welcome. I hope you find a little giggle or maybe some wisdom each time you visit.