A world-wide bar, with the same old creeps
I received a phone call recently that for some reason I can’t get out of my head.
A male friend called me with a question he needed help on.
“Hey Jarid, what would you say is my best feature? You get a choice of hair, eyes, lips, neck, arms, chest, bellybutton, butt, legs, calves or feet.”
That’s one of those questions that just doesn’t go away. Ever.
Please, I told him, ‘splain.
It finally happened, just like I said it would. The question he asked was for his profile on an Internet dating site.
I admit that my first impression is that cyberdating is for spineless wieners unable to pony up the pair necessary to actually talk to women. Cyberdating is my generation’s version of the personal ad, relegated to those who don’t like natural light or are just tired of the bar scene.
This is not to be compared with speed-dating, which is completely natural and done by non-losers all the time. So to recap: Cyberdating? Possibly weird. Speed dating? Done by cool people.
But maybe I’m wrong about Internet dating. This is a brave new world, where with the click of my mouse I can order a pizza, share videos with Russia, check my account balance, buy “Darkwing Duck” on DVD and use court records to confirm the single status of any girl I like. I won’t, but I could.
I can do it all, without having to put on pants.
I put myself in my single friend’s shoes and thought, why not look for love? I do everything else online so why should love be any different? Not to mention that Web-hookups offer benefits that are unobtainable in real life.
It’s like providing my generation with a worldwide bar, where everyone’s information is tattooed on them, like prison, but with sluttier outfits and – I’m guessing – less sex.
For women, it offers even more advantages. In the bar, it’s harder to weed out the creeps unless they make themselves known through leering, vain primping using their compact or motorboating in public.
So I helped my friend write his profile, answering the questions about his interests, his body type and about 100 other categories. You have to be very self-critical to honestly fill out that profile, and I think most people fudge it a little.
Like the best feature question.
While helping him, I wondered how I would answer that question. It’s a delicate balance between vanity and reality. I have always been told I have nice calves, but honestly, who looks at calves?
“Whoa he’s hot.”
“That guy with the spinach in his teeth, Steely Dan T-shirt and white leather pants?”
“Yeah, but look at his calves.”
Not so much.
I used to have (man) pretty blue eyes, but I’ve seen better. I asked several women for advice, subtly hinting that perhaps my butt should be my choice. That died when one of them asked if I even had a butt.
Self-esteem elevator going down … this floor, soft crying and filling emotional hole with ice cream. Ding.
That freaking best feature question is stuck in my head.
You know what, screw it. I’m sticking with calves. There’s nothing wrong with sexy calves. I look hot in sandals and I fill out my tube socks.
Now all I need is a Steely Dan shirt.
Would you ever consider doing Internet dating? Tell me about it on the Party of One blog at http://www.nevadaappeal.com/partyofone
• Jarid Shipley is a reporter for the Nevada Appeal. Contact him a firstname.lastname@example.org or 881-1217.