How is This My Match: Polygamy Edition

Posted on May 17, 2012 by

Finding someone legitimately attractive in my recommendations from OkCupid is rare. Hell, finding someone with a visible human face is rare. So this week, when a truly hot young lady appeared in my Quiver Matches, one was both single and in the Los Angeles area, well, I didn’t know what to do with myself. Throw a parade? Call the cops? It was just that shocking. Of course, what I should’ve done was read her profile in her entirety, but I was far too scattered for such a reasonable move. I mean, have you ever tried to read with a parade going on and the cops banging on the door? Distracting! But as always, my pain is your pleasure, so once again it’s time to tell me…

How is This My Match?!

 

 

 

34 year-old Woman/Single/Los Angeles, California

I’m trying to be more discreet with the photos, but I think you get the idea. She’s pretty damn cute. Glasses, curls, nice little figure – for once Cupid wasn’t drunkenly shooting his arrow into the crowd. And then…I read her profile. Hidden, deep down, below a rambling passage about her hometown and what her parents do for a living I found this little ditty…

Self Summary: I’m in an open, committed, ethically non-monogamous relationship with a documentary / commercial director and sketch comedian in Chicago.

Uh…what? WHAT?! Normally when I say “WHAT,” followed by both an exclamation point and question mark, a move referred to as The Excquation in the INaM editorial offices, it’s because I’m shocked at the bizarre and unjust world that has appeared before me. But in this case I’m genuinely confused. What the christ is an open, committed, ethically non-monogamous relationship? Is that what they were doing on Big Love? I don’t know, I never made it past the pilot. It sounds to me like a highly intellectualized way of saying “I’m in a long distance relationship, so I’m allowed to screw around.” Which is totally fine, and actually a pretty sensible way to do the long distance thing, but WHY ARE YOU ON A DATING SITE?! (Exquation.) And why, on said dating site, have you listed yourself as single WHEN THEY HAVE OTHER OPTIONS?! (Exquation #2.) Wouldn’t “seeing someone” be a more appropriate title for your ethically non-monogamous blah blah blah? And most importantly of all — WHY IS OkCupid RECOMMENDING YOU TO ME! (Exquation #3. Call Guinness.)

Her profile continues…

[I met him] last year through OKC, and now we are each other’s primary partners. On our first date, we talked about life, the universe of non-monogamy, and everything – even as the restaurant closed and the staff cleaned the tables. (Either they didn’t want to bug us, or we mortified them.) 

The only thing better than finding out that someone who’s piqued your interest online isn’t single is finding out exactly how amazing it was when they met the person who made them not single. Even the waitstaff found your love entrancing! Isn’t that nice. You know you’re talking to a bunch of single people, right? Single people who’ve turned to, of all things, a computer to find romance? Single people who right up until this moment were planning to woo you? You may want to reconsider your approach.

But she wasn’t finished…

Since that night, we’ve fallen so hard for each other. He’s prone to silly voices and great ideas, as am I. Our relationship is built on more honesty and communication than I’ve ever experienced, and I’m changed every day by it. I want to be a better person – and I wasn’t even that bad to begin with. It simply amazes me the ways I’m growing, the things I’m learning, and the deep, honest connections I’m making. People travel all seven continents to soul-search, but an even bigger journey can take place within.

I’m sorry, are we at summer camp? Are you my twelve year-old pen pal? Why are you telling us about the dreamy boy you’ve met and how he’s made your life oh so sweet and wonderful? Not only have you found the perfect mate, but with him you have the perfect relationship? Save it for the next time you’re doing someone’s pigtails. The rest of us are trying to find a date.

Thanks, OkCupid, for suggesting someone who can make me feel bad on so many levels.

I mean seriously, How is This My Match?!

(You knew it was coming. Exquation #4.)

Posted in How is This My Match? | 6 Comments

Women: Stop Doing This in Your Pictures

Posted on May 11, 2012 by

I noticed it for the first time about a year ago. I clicked on a lady’s profile, scrolled through her pictures, and had a good laugh at what I found. It was a funny little surprise actually, and I may have decided to write her based solely on her including it. So when I happened across other women here and there doing the same thing, I wasn’t surprised. It was playful, goofy, set ‘em apart from the crowd. It was the sort of thing Zooey Deschanel would do in her dating profile, if for some reason her fountain of adoring male hipsters ever dried up. All in all, I was a fan. But then, suddenly, without me even noticing – it was everywhere. You’ve probably noticed it yourself, or maybe you haven’t. Maybe it has slipped by you until now, until I dare to say its name aloud, and then all of a sudden you’ll see it too. Everywhere. Like a fungus. This scourge’s name is…Girls With Mustaches.

Need evidence? How about this….?

And those took me like…maybe…20 minutes to collect. See, like I said – EVERYWHERE. Go to OkCupid right now and look through five women’s profiles. Scroll to the last picture (it’s always the last picture – that one’s just for fun!), I promise you will find at least one fake mustache. What I’d like to know is…how? How did all these women decide more or less simultaneously that the way to snag a man was with fake facial hair? It’s just so random, and…not particularly sexy. I mean, they might as well be wearing Groucho glasses or doing the “What You Talking About Willis?” face. What exactly is the play here? What jaunty little notion is supposed to sneak into our minds when we see a woman with a ‘stache?

These are my best guesses:

  1. The fake mustache is covering up a real mustache.
  2. Women hope that Tom Selleck’s undeniable sex appeal has crossover potential.
  3. They think it’s funny.

And it is funny. As I said, the first time I saw a girl with the soup strainer, I was smitten. But this has gone too far. It’s strayed into…dare I say it…guy with shirtless photo territory. Think about it. The first guy to post a shirtless photo ten years ago didn’t think it was so crazy. He put a lot of work into his abs. I mean, he didn’t just bring his yoga ball to the office, he sat on it – instead of his desk chair – all the time! And people laughed, oh sure, they always laugh at the innovators, but then, after six months, he looked great.  So he thought, “I look great without my shirt on. Women like men who look great without their shirt on. But how do I get the word out…?”.  And soon enough, an empire was born. Sure, that empire led to one of Internet dating’s greatest clichés, and every woman in the history of ever writing in her profile “if you’ve posted a shirtless pic, you’re better off emailing the moon”, but at first, I bet it worked. I bet when Tommy Topless first hit the web, plenty of ladies said admiringly, ”It’s such a relief to know what he looks like with his shirt off!” He was probably swamped for months. Just like the first woman to post a mustache picture to her profile was, I’m sure. And then that shit got out of hand.

So please ladies, don’t it. Don’t be the next shirtless guy. Fake mustaches have had their time in the sun, but now that time has come to an end.

Posted in Advice, Internet Dating is Weird | 4 Comments

Your Awful Stories: Poetry Edition

Posted on May 4, 2012 by

I have grown tired of the Awful Story Olympic format, mostly because it rewards non-excellence. Why give out prizes for the second and third best emails I receive in a month, right? That’s not the standard we are trying to set here on It’s Not a Match! This site delivers only the best! Except for when I’m tired. Or drunk. Or taking a bath, choosing a new ringtone, watching The Voice, or not wanting disturb my cat who’s fallen asleep on my keyboard again. As long as none of those things are happening, I guarantee you perfection. For the most part. And that starts now, with the gold – and only the gold –  medal winning email of the month…

Apparently Lise H. has been wanting to email me for a while now, but she was waiting for just the right story. An email, or profile, or wooing technique sufficiently insane to catch my attention. And then on one glorious, fateful afternoon, she got all of them at once. And they came in the form of a poem. Obviously…

A few weeks ago, Lise opened her email box to discover a message from a man. According to his profile, he is all of the following:

  • Married
  • A Father of Two
  • A “Good Bow Hunter”
  • A “Great Dog Trainer”
  • Focused on Winning the Lottery and “Moving Off the Grid”
  • In an Open Relationship

So already, Lise knows she’s hit the internet dating jackpot. I mean, a guy who’s married AND kills animals with a crossbow? Why can’t I get lucky like that? I can’t tell you how many times I’ve sat across from a woman thinking, “sure, she’s great, but can she murder things with arrows? Probably not.” And then, just like that, my erection is gone. Is it a bummer that he’s married? Sure, but the good ones always are, you know? Is it too much to ask that he be attractive too?

Nope. He’s attractive too. Just don’t spend your first date in the forrest, because you’ll probably never find him.

Now, a gentleman as rugged as this, Lise would have to make allowances for his email technique. He would probably be gruff and quick to the point. His delivery would lack elegance, but he would be charming in his directness and simplicity, right? RIGHT? Wrong. What puts Lise’s lover over the top, what makes him entirely worthy of the gold medal in this month’s Awful Story Olympics, is that he wrote her a poem. It’s titled “The Unicorn,” inspired, no doubt, by the animal he’d most like to hunt.

“The Unicorn”

My dear, you may be like a unicorn, that beautiful but elusive
creature. How I long to breath in your wind, how I desire to know your
every feature.

(You “long to breath in her wind?” That means her farts, right? You want to smell her farts? Not a very effective pick-up line, at least in my experience.)

Consider Romeo and Juliet the famous Capulett and Montegue, their
famous affair was much more tragic then what I’m proposing to you.

(It takes a special sort of fellow to write a stranger a lover poem, reference famous Shakespearean characters, then spell their names wrong. It’s Capulet, Montague, and…spoiler alert…Desdemona.)

Take Othello and Desdamona, fair Paris and his Helen of Troy, though I
am a man among men unlike that cowardly boy.

(Toldja.)

You are a very beautiful woman, that fact none could deny, you’ve
captured my very being, and you’ve certainly caught my eye!

(Well, you’ve captured part of his being. The majority of his being has already been  legally captured by his wife and two children, but don’t let me get in the way of romance.)

Unicorn break.

All I ask for is the chance to keep a smile on your face. To make your
heart beat faster than its ordinary pace.

(Mission accomplished. All our hearts are beating. Quite fast. Mostly out of fear.)

To make your cheeks burn, to make your stomach churn like a small
teenage girl. To make your head spin, to make your face grin to make
you feel out of this world.

(“Make your stomach churn like a small teenage girl”? That’s…creepy. I’m choosing to believe he just needed a rhyme. Can we all go with that? Thanks.)

So my little unicorn, this is how I choose to plead my case. I hope
this little rhyme strikes you in a very good place.

I hope you are inspired by what I’ve proposed. I just ask you to give
me a chance, that you roll the dice and see how it goes!

Well, look at it this way…she was inspired by what you proposed, just maybe not in the way you intended. Instead of being inspired to write you back, she was actually inspired to forward your message along to me, with your screen name. But that’s the way art is man, you never how your audience is going to react. Just because it didn’t work with her, that doesn’t mean it won’t work with the other 50 women you’re obviously copying this to on a daily basis. While Lise may never have you, she will have always have a gold medal to remember you by.

Have a story that you think is worthy of the gold? Send it over here! 

Posted in Your Stories | 5 Comments

Has OkCupid Left Match in the Dust?

Posted on April 27, 2012 by

The Rarely Seen NotOkCupid

It’s a bit of an editorial dilemma. My site is called It’s Not a Match, which makes my use of Match.com rather integral. For years this was not a problem. I knew how to use Match, had no problem finding women there who appealed to me, and was generally happy with the site. Well, happy in that “I’m gonna devote an entire blog to chronicling my ludicrous experiences there” kinda way. But still, I was a Match man, and every other site I used paled in comparison. But then I moved to Los Angeles, and something changed. All of a sudden, Match kinda sucked.

I don’t know how else to say it. The site worked the same, but it stopped working for me. For some reason I couldn’t find many Los Angeles women I was interested in. In my new city, Match seemed to have two options: 1) the borderline homeless and 2) women with boob jobs. That was it. I don’t know how girls who appeared to live either on the beach or inside a pot dispensary could afford online dating – or why they made it a priority – but they all seemed to be on Match. Alternately, I could go with the Triple B’s: Blondes with Botox and Breast implants. Unfortunately that’s not really the look I’m going for, and it’s REALLY not really the brain I’m looking for, so I was screwed. Which is why I turned to OkCupid, and now I don’t think I’m ever going back.

Look, dating sites are tremendously regional. For whatever reason, a certain type of person seems to be attracted to a certain type of service in each location. When I lived in DC, everyone insisted Lavalife was the best site for hookups. Now I think it’s a place where you can buy actual lava. I’ve been told that EHarmony is the way to find someone of substance in Boston, which is funny because everywhere else it’s the way to find someone in a cult. In New York, OkCupid was a bastion of the skinny-jeaned and rarely cleaned. Not a great place to find a date, but if you were trying to hire a graphic designer with a loose interpretation of the word “deadline,” you could do a lot worse. For some reason however, in Los Angeles, smart, funny, and normal all belong on OkCupid.com. But even if they didn’t, I might just stick with the site anyway. Because honestly, it just works better.

Fun!

Match is a very straight-forward site, which is both a strength and a weakness. You give them a bunch of money, tell them what you’re looking for, and they give you a ton of options. It’s nice, because you know no one is there to fuck around. There’s nothing really to do. It would be like fucking around in a parking lot. On Match, you date, or you log-off. But OkCupid gives you a lot more options, and therefore encourages a lot more people to be on the site. I used to think the bells and whistles were silly, but now I’ve seen the light. Here’s my favorite things about the OkCupid experience.

1) It’s free. Don’t get me wrong, blogging pays very, very well. But my horses have to eat just as much as the next millionaire’s, you know? Look, is saving the $15 or so a month, nice? Absolutely. But the best thing about a free dating site is that it attracts all kinds – and some of the kinds you won’t find on Match are really great. Shy folks, curious folks, folks who are a little ambivalent about Internet dating to begin with. And sometimes those can be the best ones. Because trust me, the further you can get away from us grizzled Internet dating veterans, the better. We’re nuts.

Even Mother Teresa didn't always reply.

2) How Often She Replies. Hover over the “write a message” button on OkCupid, and you know what appears? A little note telling you how often your desired responds to their email. It says, “Often,” “Sometimes,” “Rarely,” or ”You’re Better Off Sending a Letter to the Moon.” Sure, it’s  good to know if you’re dealing with someone who rarely writes back, but I find this most helpful when I encounter an “Often.” I’ve seen the kind of emails women get – hell, I write a lot of ‘em – and any lady that responds “often” to all the wackjobs that come her way has got to have a screw loose herself. Or be a saint. A lonely, lonely saint. Thanks, but no thanks, Oftens. I’ll take my chances with the Sometimes.

3) “No One Has Written Her This Week.” Honestly, this may be my favorite OkCupid function. If you’re scrolling down a list of potential ladies or gentlemen, you will occasionally see this encouraging message:

No one’s contacted her this week! Go for it!

How great is that?! It’s like there a guy standing behind you at the bar whispering in your ear, “Hey, see that chick over there? Pretty cute, right? Well no one has had the balls to talk to her all night, and she’s single. Get off your ass!” I will see that message on OkCups and often be offended enough for her that I email, just to even things out. “Wait, no one’s written this woman this week? She seems great! That’s an outrage. I’m emailing right now, just to set the universe straight.” And then we hit it off. In fact, I emailed one of these girls tonight. We’ll probably get married. Thanks, OkCupid!

4) OkCupid TELLS YOU IF YOU’VE WRITTEN SOMEONE BEFORE!!! On Match, I can’t tell you how many times I’d send a girl my standard introductory email, then have her respond, “Yeah, you wrote me pretty much the same email a month ago. Wasn’t interested then, not interested now.” Actually, I can tell you how many times, but I won’t because it’s embarrassing. OkCupid indicates plainly if you’ve written someone before, and when the message was sent. Seems like a pretty obvious function, right? Well Match doesn’t provide it, making you look even more like a dick than you already do.

5) Quickmatch. Remember “Hot or Not?” That website where you rated stranger’s pictures, based solely on their appearance and your personal level of human decency? Well, OkCupid’s most popular function, Quickmatch, works on the same principle, except you if rate a person high enough they will automatically alert the person of your interest. No profiles to read, no emails to send. It’s the lazy man or woman’s (let’s be honest: man’s) way to Internet date, and it’s foolish to think you can meet people through Quickmatch alone, but it’s a great way to begin your vetting process. And it’s actually, you know, fun, which is not something you often encounter on a dating website.

So with all that said, what am I gonna do? I’m an OkCupid convert, and I don’t think I’m going. Do I change the name of my site? “It’s Not a Positive Encounter That Started On OkCupid.com” doesn’t have quite the same ring to it. And who knows if the URL is even available? Decisions, decisions…

Posted in Advice, Internet Dating is Weird | 12 Comments

The Girl Who Was a Mennonite

Posted on April 19, 2012 by

Not a Mennonite

Do you know what a Mennonite is? Neither did I. Mennonites, it turns out, are a traditional, peace-oriented religious group that can be like Protestants, or can be a LOT more strict. Like…ride a horse to work strict. They’re not Amish, Quakers, Shakers, or Candlestick Makers – but can often be confused with them because some Mennonites refuse technology and dress in the funny clothes and the floppy hats. As religions go, it’s not terribly, well, progressive, and their views on premarital sex, divorce, alcohol – in fact, pretty much everything we other people call “fun” – are, again, pretty strict. Like…a lingering stare equals second base strict. In short, Mennonites are not the sort of folks that any normal person would even think to date. But lucky for you, dear reader, I am not at all normal.

The sentence “they have all these old tires, looking sad and turgid” is what immediately sold me on her. I know, it just sounds sexy, right? Well, during my first drink with Marsha the Mennonite, we got to talking about Costco – because I know how to sweet talk a woman – and she had recently bought tires there. “Were they a good bargain?” I asked. “I don’t know,” she said, and then explained how sad and turgid they were. You know, like any other “meet cute” conversation you might see in a romantic comedy. Except the thing was, I didn’t know what turgid meant. I had to go home and look it up. And this, for me, is as romantic as it gets. A girl who uses a word that I don’t know, well that’s a girl that immediately jumps to the top of my list. And she was funny as well, and entirely adorable. So it didn’t really bother me when Marsha told me she grew up Mennonite, and lived that way for the first 25 years of her life. Now, when she said that a few years earlier she had a long-term relationship with a guy she agreed not to kiss until they got engaged, that did give me pause. But what can I say, I’m a sucker for vocab. And she said she wasn’t very religious anymore, and was drinking enough beer to back that up, so I decided to go for it. Before date one had finished, I already asked her out for date number two.

Obviously, before our next meeting, there was research to be done. After looking up turgid (Turns out it means swollen. Who knew?!), I googled Mennonite aggressively. There was this…

and this…

but also this…

I mean, I like women who throw their arms up in front of water, don’t you? What’s not to like? But which ones were the real Mennonites? The sad singing group, the background players from Witness, or the fun girls on a probably very wholesome spring break? I didn’t know. I was intrigued enough by Marsha to try to find out, but I realized I was going to have to ask her some awkward questions. There was no other way to know if even the potential of us dating was worthy of pursuit. Here was my list of quandaries.

1) Would I have to go to church?

2) Would we get to have sex?

That was pretty much it. And really, is that what every relationship boils down to for men anyway? If we date, how frequently will I have to be bored and/or annoyed? And in return for this annoyance, how often will we get to do the sexies? However in the case of Marsha the Mennonite, this trade-off was more far more dire. She mentioned on our first date that she was hoping to find a boyfriend to go to church with her, and the sex thing, well, look at these people…

Do they look like they’ve lived lives full of joyful and abundant boning? No they do not. So I had my work cut out for me on date number two.

Marsha must have sensed something was on my mind, because after a few drinks, she generously turned conversation towards her love life. And thank God – Mennonite or otherwise – she did, because I had no idea how I was going to do it. Asking someone from a religious background how often they take a trip to funky town is not as easy as it sounds. But Marsha opened the door, so all I had to do was walk through it.

M: Honestly, this is all pretty new to me. I don’t think I’ve ever had what you would consider a normal relationship.

B: What do you mean? What makes it abnormal?

M: Well, the physical part…

B (trying to play it cool, but generally acting like an ass): Oh, do you not…? Have you never…?

M: I’ve never had sex.

And even though record players no longer exist, you could still hear a record scratch somewhere in the distance. I was on a date with a very nearly 40 year-old virgin. A 36 year-old virgin, to be exact. And honestly, it didn’t bother me in the slightest. In fact, I though it was sweet. Marsha went on to say that she was no longer waiting for marriage, that she didn’t believe in that anymore, but was planning on having her first time be in the course of a serious long-term relationship. She asked if I was looking for a long-term relationship, and I told her truthfully that I was. And then we smiled and continued on with what proved to be an outstanding second date.

Did I ever find out whether I was expected to go to church? I did not, but don’t get greedy here. I accomplished one of my two missions, and was happy with the answer I found. Should I have been more wary of someone so inexperienced? I don’t know. I don’t really see why. I liked her, and I didn’t care about anything else. If anything, I felt a little bad for Marsha. I mean, if all went well, I would be totally ruining the first sexual experience of her life in a few months, and you’ve got to feel for a woman who has to face that. The upshot was she didn’t have anything to compare me to, so maybe she wouldn’t really mind. And all that had me feeling pretty good. Pret-ty pret-ty good.

Now, despite all this openness and good feeling, it didn’t make me making the first move any easier. Two dates down, and I still had not given Marsha the all-important first goodnight kiss. She said she wanted to take things super slowly, understandably, and I wanted to respect that. As date number three was winding down however, I started to feel a little anxious. My usual plan with first kisses is take all the pressure out of it, to make it feel like the inevitable culmination of a fun and flirty night. Put a hand on the knee while talking, or rest my arm on the small of her back while walking around. Nothing creepy, just sending some physical signals so a kiss doesn’t come out of nowhere.  But Marsha was not playing along. My palm was on her knee for about two seconds before she darted off to the bathroom. I tried some playful hand holding which went about as well as Russian invasion in the wintertime, and it was pretty clear I was getting nowhere near the small of her back. I was a bit thrown, but I just kept telling myself “Mennonite Mennonite Mennonite.” She wasn’t used to this sort of thing, so I just had to stay confident and stay on course. It would all work out in the end.

Who wants to french?

As I walked Marsha to her car, I knew it was now or never. I’m all for taking things slow, but three dates without a smooch sounds to me like a wonderful way to begin a friendship. We were walking down an alley which was a little high on the dumpster-to-darkness ratio for a first kiss (you’re looking for no dumpsters and a lot of darkness, FYI), but I decided to go for it. I stopped, turned her to me, waited for eye contact, then smiled and started to lean in, when…

M: I’m seeing someone else.

Again, the non-existent record scratched. WHAT?!

M: I’m…seeing someone else.

You’re seeing someone else? But you’re…a Mennonite. The last guy you dated you wouldn’t kiss until…marriage…and you’ve never had sex…and…you’re not sure you’ve even been drunk and you’re…a Mennonite. WHAT?!?!?!

Of course, I didn’t say any of these things. I think I said “huh?”, and Marsha tried to explain. She met someone the same time she met me, and she had already started “making out” with him, and didn’t feel comfortable “making out” with two people at the same time. Which under other circumstances would be totally understandable, but wasn’t exactly the message I was expecting from a girl who had been a virgin longer than I had been alive. I mean, when you discover a lady’s parents find zippers too socially progressive, you don’t really expect them to be playing the field.

B: Well, we’re still in the early stages here. There’s no need for us to be exclusive.

M: Oh, I couldn’t do that. It just wouldn’t feel right.

No. Of course not. THAT wouldn’t feel right. Dating two guys while you act like Anne of Green Gables is totally cool, but kissing them both in the same week would be too much to handle.

M: But I do like you. Would you be interested in maybe dating, but not kissing or…doing anything…sexual?

And that’s when she tried to pitch me on essentially the exact same relationship she had had with her previous beau, the man who wouldn’t get to kiss her until matrimony. It was quite a twist from Marsha the Mennonite, and one that left me simply walking away and shaking my head ten minutes later. I thought I was being an open-minded good-hearted guy, trying to go at a slower pace, and actually I was just wasting time while another dude swooped in and stole my conservative christian. It felt pretty crappy, to be honest, but at least it taught me something. Don’t trust anyone who looks like this.

In retrospect, maybe I already should’ve known that.

Posted in Horror Stories | 6 Comments

INaM CLASSIC: The Girl Who Lived In a Shack

Posted on April 13, 2012 by

Time for another blast from the past, kids. This week’s It’s Not a Match Classic is about the first substantial coupling I found online, and it’s a doozy. It’s one of the first things I wrote for this site, and research reveals many of you haven’t read it. It’s a shame, because I was so much sweeter then. Before the cutting. So, enjoy! Back with a great new story next week!

My shrink.

I’ve met a lot of great women through Match.com, I really have. I would say at least 90% of the ladies I’ve been out with have been sweet, attractive, and utterly likable people. My problem is, it keeps being the other 10% that I ask out for a second date. Why? No idea, you better ask my shrink. Piece of advice though, she charges by the word and has, let’s say, a liberal perspective on the merits of falling asleep while someone else is talking.

The first woman I had a long-term relationship with that I met on Match was definitely one of the good 90%. She was very attractive, wore glasses (official It’s Not A Match quirky turn-on), had a great sense of humor, and was generally irresistible. She also lived six blocks from me and for some reason enjoyed the pleasure of my company, so things were off to a promising start.

There’s always a thing that, after you break up with someone, you look back and realize “oh, I’m an idiot. How did I not see that?” Something that, at the time, you justified and explain away and decide not to worry about, mostly because this person is willing to let you see them without their clothes on and allowances must be made for such behavior. But then, after you separate, you slap your hand to your head and wonder how you couldn’t have seen the whole breakup coming. Like, she got a little too flirty with your friends. Or he couldn’t get along with his parents. Or she ate human flesh. You know, subtle little clues. Well, in the case of 90% Nanette, it was this statement: “Oh, I don’t call back.”

Her ideal telephone.

We had just returned from spending Christmas apart with our families, and during the time off, she was distant. I would call her, she wouldn’t call me back, then I’d wait for a few days and call her again. Maybe I’d get her, maybe I wouldn’t – but the whole time she seemed kinda pissed. It was confusing, but such is the life of one who tries to date women. When we returned to New York she immediately started an argument. She wondered why I hadn’t called her enough over the break, I pointed out that I called her plenty but she didn’t call me back. Her response: “Oh, I don’t call back.” She just doesn’t call people back. Never has, really. Doesn’t see the need. How I had dated her for several months without noticing this I don’t know, but she explained that it’s not the woman’s job to call a man back. Men are just to call until eventually the lady picks up. Because she’s a princess living in a castle and the entire world is a fairy tale and her hair is made of gold and unicorn eyelashes. I told her plainly that that was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard. Apparently that was also something she didn’t do – get told that she was an idiot – because she didn’t care for that one bit. THIS was when I should have known that I wasn’t dealing with one of the amazing 90% Nanettes, but actually one of the crappy 10% Tinas. A woman with an opinion about gender roles and the telephone that predate the actual invention of the telephone wasn’t gonna work for me. But we talked it out, I looked past the obvious (mostly because of that whole potential for clothes being off thing), and we moved on. Mis-take.

A few months later, after all had settled down and we were on a pretty good streak, 10% Tina sent me an email saying the relationship was over. No real reason was given, because, after all, she was a 10% Tina. The only thing she said was that she wasn’t good at discussing such things in person so we wouldn’t be doing that. No talking, face to face or otherwise, would be going on. What can I say, she liked restrictions on communication, generally. At the time, I was young and delicate and it hit me pretty hard. I tried to talk to her, but she refused. It was all very confusing and awful and I felt bad for a few months. Yeah, I said it. Months! I was listening to a lot of Nick Drake and Elliott Smith in those days and oh how the cigarettes were smoked. The cherry on the cake of the relationship happened one day when I saw her on the street in our neighborhood and she pretended not to see me and walked right by. That one hurt for sure. She was downgraded to a 5% Phyllis after that. But now I have a website about Internet dating, so who got the last laugh, EH, PHYLLIS?! Actually, I absolutely got the last, best, and sweetest laugh. Here’s how…

My replacement...

I ran into her roommate in a bar and after pretending to care about catching up, I asked her the big question: so…what’s up with 5% Phyllis? That was when she uttered the one sentence that fixed everything, that turned this into one of the great dating experiences of my life. The roommate said…AHEM… “after she broke up with you she moved in with a guy who lived in a shack.” How do you know you’ve won a breakup? When within 90 days your ex is without running water or indoor plumbing. When her mailing address becomes “Next To The Big Oak Tree With The Knot In It.” When she has to throw away her electric toothbrush because it draws too much on the generator. AWESOME.

The way the story goes, she broke up with me and for a while dated a guy who was married. But who hasn’t really? Then she met this fine gentlemen who entirely swept her off her feet, which was wonderful until he announced that he was morally opposed to modern conveniences of city living, so had built himself a shack. AND SHE LIVED IN IT WITH HIM. I could never figure out where this shack was located exactly, but when you get a gem like this you don’t go looking too hard for fault lines. The point is, I was upset at her choosing against me when a few months later she would also choose against a toilet and working faucets. Luckily, she probably didn’t run into the problem of not calling people back again, as it’s hard to place a call when your phone is plugged into a tree stump. She was nuts and I was scott free! All because of one beautiful sentence…

“After she broke up with you she moved in with a guy who lived in a shack.”

Posted in It's Not a Match Classic | 1 Comment

Advice From a Hot Chick: How To Email Your Dream Girl

Posted on April 5, 2012 by

The internet is still abuzz from INAM’s shocking expose, Match From a Hot Girl’s Perspective. In fact, just today it was reposted on the Huffington Post! (Can not add link because I totally made that up.) But as we suggested last week, we are not done with Olivia, our resident hot chick. No, there will be no more stories of woe, no more pleas for sympathy for the complicated predicament of being an attractive lady online. I read your emails, and I get it: you don’t give a shit. So what if hot chicks get deluged with awfully mean and awfully written emails – they’re hot chicks. They’ll get over it. I was a little surprised at your ruthlessness, but hey, I’m a hot chick. I’ll get over it. (I’m working on a catchphrase here.)

This week’s lesson from Olivia is far more practical. I asked her one question, and the response I received was pure gold. You may think this applies only to men looking for women, or folks trying to attract someone a bit out of their league – but that isn’t so. Olivia’s answer to my question can help any dude or lady who tries their hand at internet dating.

My question: What’s the one thing I can do in my Match email to make sure you’ll respond. The answer…was not so simple.

First thing to consider is something you probably think little about: your subject line.

Olivia: I get, on average, 50 emails a day. (Ed. Note: Yes, you read that right. 50! Crazy, right?)Probably 80% of those emails have subjects like “Hi”, “Hey”, “Subject”, or nothing at all. Do you think that makes someone stand out in an inbox with tons of new messages every day? Ha! No. An interesting email subject line makes you stand out, and standing out makes me remember you more. When I remember you more, I’m more likely to respond.  I do look at every message I get, even if only briefly. So be memorable! The sad thing is even the good, well-written emails usually have subjects like this. Depressing.

B: To elucidate her point, Olivia sent me a screengrab of her inbox. Aaaaaand Holy Crap. Look at this shit.

 

 

 

Wow. Aren’t you just dying to click?! Most captivating subject line in that assortment goes to…the guy who wrote “86″, I guess? I mean, two random digits are better than just tossing out a “Hey,” or an alarmingly creative “Heya,” right? The “Racquet, Squash?” fellow kinda intrigues me, like if you opened his email it would just go on listing a bunch more racket sports. “Tennis, Badminton, Kadima. Wanna go out Thursday?” OK, I’m being a dick, but you get the point. When you’ve got a bunch of emails to choose from, it’s pretty hard to select one that, in the one moment it has to advertise, offers only the word “(none)”. Or “Summers Close!” Really? Thanks. I don’t own a calendar. Or have the ability to sense temperature changes. OK, I’m being a dick again.

So what should you write in your subject line? Here’s Olivia’s suggestion:

Olivia: Something witty, something funny, even something random: one guy once made his subject “pancakes!” It was completely unrelated to anything, but I certainly remembered his email.

The International House of Perfect Subject Lines.

And from that day forward all Internet dating emails introduced themselves with the word “pancakes,” and it was good.

Another way you get can noticed…by writing a second email.

Olivia: I honestly don’t mind when someone emails me twice. In fact, I probably respond to more second emails than first emails.  When I go through my inbox, I do read every message. That might sound like a lot of time, but it generally only takes 10-30 seconds to read a message. When someone starts off saying they’re emailing me again, it’s like I feel bad for ignoring them and thus I pay more attention to them.

When you get a lot of emails, it’s very easy for most of them to just get lost and drowned out, even ones that I liked. So, generally I’ll go back and find their original message, reread their new message, look at their profile, and decide whether to respond.  I’ve just gone from spending 10-30 seconds on your email and probably not even looking at your profile to a few minutes thinking about you. And only about 10% of guys send me second attempt emails.

B: Well gang, I hate to say I told you so, but — actually, no I don’t. I love to say I told you so. It’s probably one of my favorite things to say. It shows how smart I am and how dumb you are. How could you hate that? I TOULD YOU about the power of the second email months ago, and I’m happy to see Olivia agrees. I actually think it’s not a bad idea to send two emails to everyone you write, if you feel like spending that sort of time on Internet dating, and don’t mind veering dangerous close to serial killer zone. But you gotta handle the second email just right (for suggestions, follow the link). AND don’t get greedy. A third email is a little too Bates Motel for Olivia’s tastes.

"I email six times!"

Olivia: If I haven’t responded to your second attempt, I’m clearly not interested. So, don’t send a third, fourth, or fifth message to someone.  A second attempt seems confident and interested. A third attempt comes off as desperate and obsessed.  I have had some guys seriously send multiple messages with no responses. I don’t know what they’re thinking, but clearly they can’t take a hint. 

B: I have never sent a third, fourth, or fifth email, but now I kinda want to, just to see what happens. As long as what happens isn’t the cops showing up at my house. Because my landlord is really getting tired of that.

Olivia offers a good deal of advice on what a guy (or girl, for that matter) should write in their introductory email, but a lot of it is stuff I’ve told you before. To sum it succinctly, be original, be creative, and stand out from the pack. As she says…

50 other guys have asked her “how are you”, “any plans for the weekend”, “how is your week going”, so don’t be surprised when I don’t answer if that’s the ENTIRE text of your message. Even if a guy is attractive, I still won’t respond to these messages.

Read the profile, say something specific, and make a lasting impression But you guys knew that, right? RIGHT. That last point however brings us to perhaps Olivia’s most interesting suggestion, and one I didn’t expect. She says, even if you don’t find yourself as dreamy as the one you’re seeking – write anyway! Looks aren’t everything.

Olivia: Appearance is of course important, but it’s not the defining factor.  It’s like there are three groups of people: those you’re immediately attracted to, those you know you’re absolutely never going to be attracted to, and average looking people. I don’t dismiss someone based on his looks, because when you get to know someone, you can become more attracted to them.  If someone writes a great, engaging email, but is only average looking, I may still respond. Just because someone is hot doesn’t mean I’m going to respond, either. In fact, most of the best looking guys write pathetic emails. 

"I'm in average looking category, RIGHT?"

I’ve never responded to someone based solely on looks, though it’s difficult to say exactly what will make me decide to respond or not. It’s a combination of (in order of importance) content of their email, what they look like (whether or not they’re at least somewhat cute enough they could fall into that nondescript “becomes more attractive after getting to know his personality” category), and content of their profile.

B: Hear that? Hot guys write pathetic emails, and a great message can make you incredibly desirable even if you don’t feel your looks already do. Hooray for writing!

Olivia: About 50% of the emails I get are complete jokes, 25% good, 15% great, and 10% amazing.   The better the email is, the less important appearance becomes. The “good” emails I reply to are typically because it’s an attractive guy. The “amazing” and “great” ones get responses even if the guy is just average looking.

B: Well now I feel just great, don’t you? Of course this doesn’t apply to me, I’m not even close to average looking. Unless you consider a mix of the boyish charm of Ryan Gosling with the smokey masculinity of Denzel Washington average. (The ladies call me Denzel Goslington.)

In closing, I’d like to thank our lovely Olivia for this very instructive session. It’s advice that I believe applies to all of us, whether we’re searching for a cute older straight guy or an exotic younger lesbian lady. Be confident, be clever, and be determined. She’s happy to answer more questions, so if you have any quandaries of your own, send them my way, and I’ll see what we can do.

Oh, and  before she finished, Olivia hand one more It’s Not a Match credo to reinforce:

If you want to get my attention, your only bet is to send an email, because that’s the only reason I’m going to look at your profile. Guys sign in to find girls to email. Girls sign in to read their email. I get enough emails to never have to look at my winks.

Like I said, whatever you do, don’t wink. Even if you look like Denzel Goslington.

Posted in Advice | 6 Comments