how very lucky to be a girl

Back in 2001, with the encouragement of a dear friend, and also several cocktails, I posted my first internet dating profile. These were the years before web personals became de rigueur of dating. You didn’t tell everyone, or really anyone, that you met online. That didn’t stop me. You’re welcome.

The website was called Nerve. I had no idea that it was also a purveyor of soft-core content disguised as art. Not that I mind that type of thing, but it certainly set the tone for a number of surprising interactions before I finally caught on.

All in all, it was a positive experience. I use the word positive generously. My forays in the internet dating world yielded more positive experiences (read: stories) than successful relationships to write home about. Mom, if you’re reading this…oy…I hope you’re not.

Date 1: Steven. We met at a bar. Had several drinks and really nice conversation. He was easy on the eyes and even easier to talk to. He was funny and kind and empty of both judgement and wallet. Yeah, when the tab came, he revealed that he had no money, so rather than do dishes, I marched to the nearest ATM, withdrew money and paid for my first internet date.

Date 2: Jeff. He was very handsome and clearly thought so himself. He talked on his cell phone for most of our dinner, but I learned a lot about his job that way. I finished my meal and excused myself. Fortunately, his wallet hadn’t been empty.

Dates 3 – 5: Never happened. This “model” from Sao Paolo Brazil missed his flight home to NY each time we were set to meet. It obviously took me much too long to catch on. But now I’m pretty sure he wasn’t a model.

Date 6: Kam. This is when I had fun learning that Nerve was a soft-core content site. It never turned into another date because

(not a date). At a bar run by a man I was casually seeing when Kam showed up. Kam and I flirted a bit and danced for a while. This was followed by words between the two men and Kam’s exit. Yep, New York is smaller than it appears.

Date 7: Renato. He was sexy and Italian. He wined and dined me and said all the right things, touched all the right ways. Everything about that date had been intoxicating down to sensuously being fed dessert in kisses across the table. I brought him home. Why wait? The rest of the night was as passionate and hot as the first part. And afterward, over a cigarette, he revealed that he was married. I threw a conniption. That turned him on. I threw him out. That turned him on. He called for another date and wanted his shirt back. I declined and cleaned my toilet with it.

Date 8: I don’t remember his name. I only remember meeting him for drinks. He ordered dinner. I did not. I thought I’d mastered the “slip away to the ladies room to allow the gentleman to pay” technique, so I seductively rose and sauntered to the restroom. I guess it hadn’t been so seductive, because when I returned, he excused himself to the men’s room, leaving the tab for me to pay. Internet dating was literally this guy’s bread and butter. But he’d thought it was a wonderful date and that we should do it again. I disagreed.

Too many dates to remember: my profile was featured on the log-in page. There were many. One cried when I went home with him. Another stalked me. One had lost a full head of hair and gained 50 pounds from the picture he’d posted. It took me 40 minutes to find him at the bar. There were various and sundry propositions, some of which I’d entertained and others that were too weird to imagine. Said profile swiftly removed when one of my employees contacted me.

Then I found myself involved with someone. I hadn’t met him online, and so those days were firmly behind me. Except that relationship didn’t work out. And I was single in NY again. I met a lot of men out at restaurants and bars, but no one who was going to stick around for the long term, or in many cases even until the next morning. Gone are the days of set-ups and blind dates. Matchmakers charge $20,000 for no guarantees these days.

So what’s a single girl to do?

Wash. Rinse. Repeat. It was back to internet dating…