Back to Match

I should be embarrassed to admit this, but I’m pretty sure I was a match.com pioneer. I’ve had many, many memberships – all one month at a time – dating back to the 90s. Really.

It is always the same predictable cycle with me. I get frustrated with the lack of selection in the man department which inevitably leads to a complete dating drought and then at 2am on some random night, I’ll find myself battling insomnia, drag myself out of bed, shuffle to the computer, peck in that familiar web address, and run a search. For a brief moment, I experience a twinge of giddiness as I think, “Maybe this time I’ll find a nice guy.” I’ll usually spot a dude or two with potential – enough potential to persuade me to grab my wallet and pull out my Visa.

Every time I resort to re-upping my membership these days, I fully expect to enter my credit card information, hit submit, and see some message like “You again? Really?” or maybe even “This one’s on the house!” either out of pity or to thank me for my continued patronage. No such luck with the latter, though. The memberships only get more and more expensive.

I then tweak my ever-evolving profile and upload a new photo or two. By this point, I've baited my hook and cast my line; the only thing left to do is wait till I feel that familiar little tug, reel it in and pray it’s not a barnacle-covered shoe. I always get a few quick nibbles – all of which I throw back. Finally, sleepiness sets in, and I return to my empty bed. By the next morning, I’ll have 97 new emails in my inbox. I’ll browse them one-by-one and become progressively disheartened at the clichéd, cheesy, poorly composed, and sometimes just plain scary messages that greet my bloodshot eyes.

Over the course of the next three days, I’ll land something I think could be a keeper. We’ll have several exchanges. In the meantime, I’ll have become so disgusted by the bullshit overflowing from my inbox that I’ll opt to hide my profile. I’ll probably go out with what's-his-name within the next few days – no sense in wasting time emailing and gabbing on the phone. I learned a decade ago not to do that, as you can easily spend a month whiling away hours on the phone with Mr. Possibly only to finally meet him and know within the first 30 seconds of making eye-contact that the night is going to end awkwardly. Physical chemistry is a powerful thing and there are perfectly attractive, smart, articulate men that I’ve met after seven pleasant phone calls and have known instantly that I’d never feel anything for them.

The date with what's-his-name will, more often than not, go south. Sometimes I’ll see him again and maybe for a few weeks or even a month or so, but it will always end and membership now canceled, I will, once again, declare Match.com an exercise in futility and I will go about my business convinced that I can conceivably meet a good guy the old fashioned way.

Then I don’t.

And then the vicious cycle starts all over again.

…Today, the cycle continues. And still, no complimentary membership.