Thursday, January 19, 2006

I've Sunk So Low

So I've been on Friendster basically since its inception, and recently my L.A. contingent forced me to join MySpace (which I really don't see the point of, but whatever, I'm there). I've had fun on Friendster, using it to keep in touch with friends and what's going on with them; I've also been tracked down by people I haven't seen in years but was delighted to hear from. I've never really used Friendster as a "dating" site, although this summer I finally vowed to go out with each and every man who asked me out for a week after reading some baloney about "just saying yes" to life and how if you do, miraculous things will happen. SNORT. I went on three dates -- one with a chubby, overeager and nervous lawyer, one with a short, overconfident lawyer and one with a Greek hipster who actually had the cojones to call his drug dealer in the middle of our first date, although that's another story entirely. The funniest part is, I liked the drugged up hipster the best and we actually remained friends, even if he needs to cut back on the illegal substances.

ANYWAY, after getting blown off by Asshole Ass Double, who is double the ass for making me believe he was a good guy when really he wasn't, instead of just being a straight-up ass, I kind of sunk into despair. Sitting at home last night, desperately praying for my Tylenol PM to kick in, I realized that since I've turned 30 people have stopped really writing me as much on Friendster. I mean, I don't care, since I never wanted to go out with any of them anyway, but I realized maybe the demographic shift would mean I would never again have the grand opportunity of gulping glass after glass of cranberry vodkas with a sweaty-handed stranger. And that would be a shame.

So I decided to step up to the granddaddy of the "real" dating sites and throw my profile up on Match and see what happened. A little social experiment if you will.

What happened is this: every overweight, unattractive, grammatically challenged hornball from Bayonne to Bay Ridge has flooded my inbox with "winks" (a pussy version of a hello) and long emails about how I must be their long-lost love. I'm scared they're going to look up my zip code and stalk me like a horde of sex-starved zombies or something. I think I'll be pulling my profile after today, because it's kind of freaking me out. I don't think these people would come up to me in bars or whatnot to ask me out, why is it different online? Less face to lose, I guess.

The demographics on Match, as compared to say Friendster, seem to skew older, fatter, uglier, dumber, more sincere and richer.

This is actually a *good* thing for me, because since all my friends are young, thin, attractive, smart, snarky and broke as clowns, it's unlikely any of them will be trolling on Match and therefore witnessing my shame.

2 Comments:

Blogger Guy said...

Trust me, you're not alone in your "low sunken-ness." I recently joined j-date, which is ironic because I pretty much can't stand dating jews. Every person on it that emails me looks like a trucker from Bayonne, NJ as well. After a few weeks on the site, I've decided that what I am doing is paying for my self-respect to go down the toilet, which I could easily do for free anyway. Join me in crying ourselves to sleep

10:42 PM  
Blogger SwallowedAlive said...

Stay away from short guys. We can be terrible.
That does not include me. By virtue of my height, I just know many who are.
What? I'm not being defensive. You're just jumping to conslusions!
FINE! Then I'll just go then!

6:38 AM  

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