Chapter Sixty Two: Hi Ho the Dairy Oh a Matchdotcoming I Shall Go

When I attended my hometown’s Fourth of July celebration this past summer, I ran into an old classmate of my brother’s and . . . her incredibly hot and smart new boyfriend. I was ecstatic for her. You see, this chick is awesome. She is a chemical engineer and an incredibly talented musician, one of the rare kinds of people who uses her entire brain and not just one side. But for some elusive reason, while the rest of her girlfriends met and married the men of their dreams in their 20’s, this brainy and bewitching beauty sailed right on through that decade single and solo. So of course when I saw her sporting some yummy eye candy on her arm I had to tackle her and get the scooparama.

“Alright, who is the hottie and where the hell did you find him?”

She smirked coyly, glanced around, and then leaned in to seductively whisper, “Match.com.”

I gasp and gush, “No way.”

“Way.”

I confessed how I’d cautiously sampled matchdotcom last fall for about a week but soon ran screaming away from my monitor. You see, about thirteen years ago my (then) husband and I had the wonderful white trash experience of living in an apartment next a guy who used to beat the smack out of his wife every, oh, three seconds. Yeah, that was fun. I was usually the one dialing 911. So when that scum sent me an email on Match (oh, imagine that, he is single now?) I pretty much decided on the spot that anyone in this online deal was more than likely an abusive alcoholic maniac and I needed to flee this virtual single scene pronto.

Ew.

I shared that story with my newly in love girlfriend and she chuckled, “Yeah, well, there are certainly creeps but I still think it is worth it. Think about it, there are jerks in real life too, what’s the difference? It took me a year to find Matt online.” She then went on to explain her matchdotcoming strategy which basically amounted to: ignoring the guys whose mugs looked like they could be on the FBI's top ten most wanted list and only responding to about 2% of the emails from men who expressed any interest at all. "After all," she rationalized, "you don't talk to every guy who glances your way at a bar do you? Same concept. You have to ignore much of the correspondence. You just do."

I was intrigued but admitted that when I tried it before, another part of it was that I just felt guilty for not having any interest in so many of the men who took the time to write. And good grief, so many of them were just far too old.

“Oh, those are the most fun,” she confided. Then you get to email back, “In your dreams, Grandpa!”

I collapse in hysterics and high five her for having some pretty damn big ovaries.

Hmmm, I was starting to rethink this virtual matchmaking. Considering the fact that the whole time she and I were having this conversation her six foot dark haired god of a matchdotcom boyfriend was respectfully lingering nearby waiting for her. Damn. I just might have to give this cyber scene another shot.

So last week, I did it. I reactivated my Match account and dove back in to digital dating.

And so far? Not too bad. I only had one 62 year old email me that he is fairly convinced that not only are he and I kindred spirits but that he is really an alien from the planet Zertog.

Not even a little kidding, people.

But instead of jumping ship I just hit the delete button and resigned myself to stay the course.

Who knows, might be worth a shot? Honestly? I don’t have the highest hopes. The concept still seems to scream desperation but I am buoyed by my girlfriend’s subsequent success.

So here I go. For now a couple of these guys actually seem normal. Their pictures don’t look like mug shots nor are they old enough to begin collecting social security any time soon so hey, let’s celebrate that, shall we?

We’ll see.

Tune in next year. You never know.

If this works out it is entirely possible that by July 4, 2009, it just might be me showing up back at home with a six foot piece of yummy dangling from my arm.

Let’s just hope I don’t have to sift through too many ancient wife beating aliens to find him.