Monday, June 19, 2006
Must. Not. Break. Hearts.
My profiles on certain online meeting and matching services remain in place, floating in cyberland, left over from the days (let's face it not so long ago), when I was single and actively looking.
Now, these sites frustrate me. Why? Because while I have checked the box that says UNAVAILABLE and SEEING SOMEONE and IN A RELATIONSHIP or something else that's the online equivalent of PLEASE DON'T GET YOUR HOPES UP! it doesn't really stop my inboxes filling with messages from all sorts of people who are absolutely, unapologetically, unrelentingly persistent.
Take Exhibit A (by the way, these people are always, always male, and usually in the 22-34 age range):
Okay, I admit, I toyed with him a bit. His profile said he didn't know what books he should read, so when he messaged me I gave him the titles of a few of my favourites. These were not short novels. They included Wally Lamb's 900+ page oeuvre, I Know This Much Is True. Not a short read by any means. I didn't do this because I thought he'd be intimidated and go away. On the contrary. I thought: he asked, I'll answer. And maybe someday five years from now he'll remember my recommendation and pick up one of those books and actually read it. But, within a few weeks he had read ALL of them, and came back to me with lukewarm reviews of everything except The Life of Pi, and a request for a coffee date.
About I Know This Much Is True, he wrote:
"I did get that copy of the Lamb book, and finished it. When I first opened it up, I was utterly shocked that you would challenge my ability to read it. Sure, it was 900 pages, but the typeset is huge! And the language is simple colloquial American English,short sentences and all. One of the last novels I read was 1100 pages of ten point type with technical jargon. So *huff*. :p Of course, the pages themselves were physically smaller in the longer book...As for Kitchen Confidential, I did like it, but it wasn't anything particularly special. Neither, really, was the Lamb book."
Let it be known that at no point did I challenge his literary competence, I merely pointed out that the book is known for being rather lengthy, and in fact I had emphasized its easy vocabulary as a selling point.
Then, on another site. The same Exhibit A wrote:
"Anyway, check out my message on Site A and get in touch, k? Or let me know how I can get in touch with you... :) Gawd looking at your pictures on Site B, you're drop-dead beautiful. Why oh why do you have to have a girlfriend? Why couldn't you have been single? :)"
Well, here's the rub. I don't really want to meet this guy after all. I find him a bit over-the-top, cloying, even borderline insecure. Plus, he spells God 'GAWD.'
Then there was Exhibit B, a guy in his mid-thirties who referred to me as an "artistic type" (probably his first mistake), and then said, rather sweetly I think:
"I'm bufuddled because as I read through your profile, I nod as I check my imaginary list, and wish at the top of the page it didn't say "Seeing Someone" because I wish to be someone."
Yeah, so I dunno what to do. I can't be bothered to meet these guys, can't be bothered to ignore them, and don't really want to be a heartbreaker.
I'm thinking of attaching to my profile a line that my mother uttered the other day. She said: "Honey, maybe you're allergic to boys."
Haha. I know it's not true, but it was cute nonetheless.
They're constructing some impressive skyscraping structure outside my window and once again I can't sleep. I'm fighting off some avian flu from the plane and I need more Vitamin C. That and I haven't really been eating since I got home either. Knowing where my next meal is coming from has resulting in a total relaxation of any perceived need for me to find nourishment. It's refreshing, and perhaps it will result in me finally losing my puppy fat. Thank Gawd.
Oh it pains me to write it.
I love, adore, cherish, and loathe the internet.
-N
