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.