Post Title: The Butterfly Effect

Post Date: February 3, 2012

When the streets became no longer safe for finding a potential mate, but instead were filled with booty-caller horndogs and douchebags without the swag, I decided to turn to a new source to find what I was looking for. That source was Match.com.

While I was not placing all my hope in the idea that the site would provide me with the “love of my life,” I did think I was going to get to meet people who were looking for the same thing I was: what I like to call the “butterfly effect.” The feeling of excitement one gets when they really, really like someone.

However, I had not realized how out of shape I was in this whole dating thing. Sure, I knew the rules: no speaking about politics, religion, or sex and, “it’s good night not good morning” on the first date. But still, I broke all of them. I guess it didn’t help that for the first round of guys I met, I showed up partially drunk to ease the nerves. I was a hot mess, but what can I say, it made for some hilarious stories.

My Match.com page began blowing up within seconds of signing up, and I began leafing through my virtual catalog of choices. I did a customized search of everything I wanted in a man and my results came back: zero. I mean, I didn’t think finding a tall, slender, white dude who can dance and doesn’t want kids would be such a challenge, but apparently, it was!

So I tried to expand my mind and went out with contender number one. Meeting a complete stranger was super awkward, so I got my liquid courage on, showed up, and began making my first impression by asking, “Shots?!” Apparently, it worked, because he was hooked and we began to date. But as I sobered up more and more with each date, I realized the butterflies weren’t there. He was handsome and all, but I am strange and out there and he was reserved and timid. Not a match!

After that I lined up four contenders in one week. It was exhausting and for the most part I wanted to turn around as soon as I saw them. They just were not physically what they had portrayed on their profiles, and I am quite shallow. However, I played nice, got drunk and engaged in some self-sabotaging conversation. I talked about exes and depressing moments, and made inappropriate jokes about Hitler. But somehow, they found me hilarious, and each time I was asked out for a second date. So in addition to becoming a pro dater, I also learned how to keep it real. I learned the art of polite rejection. For the most part, the men accepted it gracefully.

Two years ago, I went sky diving, and thanks to the Excitation Transfer Theory, I had “fallen in love” with the sky diving instructor who was strapped on to me as I jumped out of a plane. Lo and behold, I found him on Match.com. My hopeless romantic heart pitter-pattered with the idea of fate and blah blah blah. I even did a happy dance when he texted me with plans for that weekend…

I had an amazing time; he even said, “best match date ever!” as he twirled me around on the dance floor. He was fun and his friends were all really great, but I broke the number one rule, “Don’t sleep with a homeless man.” It turned out he had not lived anywhere in a year so that he could travel. As a result, he slept in his car, or on couches.... Well, that night, it was in my bed. Truly, the most memorable Match date I could have had, and after so many “no’s,” I have to say this one made up for it.

I greatly appreciate all the amazing experiences Match.com has given me. It has allowed this shallow bitch to go out with so many strangers that I would have otherwise passed by. While they may not have been “the one,” they all have taught me how to be a pro dater…sort of. I still may have some flaws to work out, but no doubt: everything I get to experience is making me a better person and bringing me closer to that right person for me.

[Post edited for length.]

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