May 2007 

 

I closed my eyes and pressed my fingers to my temples, massaging my forehead. If I had a speck of magical ability, I would have whisked myself away from this interminable evening. But it was not to be; when I opened my eyes, she was still there, glaring at me sullenly, her food barely acknowledge. My dish had been cleared at record speed in a vain attempt to accelerate the evening. But my date was determined to see me suffer.

For the millionth time, I asked myself why I had ever attempted online dating. At first, it seemed like a great idea: coming out of a long-term relationship, it was an easy and fun new way to meet women. I wasn’t looking for anything too involved, and the online medium was perfect for casual dating. I even met one or two terrific women … in an absolutely insane haystack.

Online dating is a deceptive and perverse netherworld; forget all those people who keep a profile without a picture (hidden or overt), who, for all you know, could be twelve-year-old boys in a log cabin somewhere. Forget, even, the blatant liars; you know, the “blue-eyed beauty” with an “athletic” build who turns out to be a six-foot behemoths with scraggly brown hair and eyes as azure as mud. Let’s focus on the people who are totally upfront; even they’re nuts.

This date was a perfect example. I had chosen a nice restaurant in the Village, had picked her up (in New York, how many people can drive their dates around?), and had generally behaved myself. So why was she so upset with me? I’ll tell you. I had just returned from a trip to Florida. And she was upset that I didn’t wait so that she could go with me. Never mind the small fact that this was our first date! And she was genuinely angry, mind you; by not taking her with me on a vacation that took place before we knew each other, I had caused irreparable harm to our relationship.

Needless to say, that girl didn’t last long. And she was relatively normal compared to some of the other people I met or talked to. I spent just over six months with an online profile on a popular dating website. Among the collection of freaks with whom I came in contact were hookers, webcam girls, transvestites, and transsexuals. Quite a few posted pictures that were clearly cut out of a magazine or taken from some professional site. Many had no problem showing their bodies in the most vivid poses, with as much exposure as possible. A great majority were simply online to indulge the darker side of their sexuality.

And then there were the ones I place in the “you’ve got to be kidding” category. These included the plethora of incredibly attractive immigrants from Eastern Europe who had their suitcases packed and were waiting for me to bring them over to the U.S. in exchange for the most mind-bending sex I could imagine. Some of these Balkan beauties could barely string together a full sentence in English, but they had no problem describing, in startling detail, what they would do to me when we were together. And of course, I couldn’t forget the surprising number of stranded belles in Nigeria and Kenya who begged me to send money to help them escape their desperate plight. Their stories were the stuff of soap operas: boyfriends who had tricked them, kidnapped them, stolen all their money; mothers who had fallen sick right before the civil war erupted, trapping both daughter and mother in a hostile land. If only they could get some money from a handsome, manly knight in shining armor, they would be eternally, and deliciously, grateful.

(None of the above is made up, by the way).

After a while, it became a kind of sick game. There was one character who refused to reveal age, height, weight, or any physical attributes (I can only assume they were female), but promised me all kinds of sexual delights (with a heavy emphasis on oral pleasure). I chatted pleasantly with amateur call-girls (who weren’t exactly in the business but were moderately attractive and figured they could make a buck or two), who always started the conversation with “are you a cop?” I learned a lot about the lifestyles and fantasies of submissives and dominatrixes. And I became extremely selective and cautious when it came to meeting people.

I know it’s not all bad. A good friend of mine married the woman he met online. And I dated a perfectly normal girl whom I met online for a little while. Of course, the site you choose has a lot to do with it; the ones that require payment tend to screen out some (not all) of the wackos. I never got into the e-Harmony breed of sites that make you fill out a 357-page questionnaire before you can register, and who will notify you of potential mates based on this. I’m sure it’s a thoroughly researched, scientific approach to online dating; but like I said, I didn’t want to find my soul mate. I just wanted to meet new people outside my circle of friends and avoid a serious relationship. I was very honest about my desires in my profile, and most of the women I spoke with were in the same boat. Most of them were also slightly mad. And don’t forget, this is a guy’s perspective. I don’t even want to think about how many unhinged men are trolling the Internet.

So what is the lesson here? Only that you should take online dating for what it is: for every honest girl waiting to meet a nice guy, there are at least five women in immediate need of emotional counseling. For every sweet girl who thought online dating would be a new and exciting way to meet people, there is a leather-clad, whip-wielding psychopath who will feed you the heel of her shoe and make you call her “David”. And for every normal guy—like me—who thought that the Internet would be an interesting experiment, I have some advice: keep a very, very open mind.