There is actually someone in my life that I’m madly in love with who lives 2000 miles away, but he’s a married man, and being in love with a married man is about as productive as consuming an entire box of See’s candy in one day. You know it’s completely bad for you, and you’re going to end up nauseous and with a really bad stomach ache, but it feels so good at the time.

Not that I’ve ever eaten a box of See’s Candy in just one sitting. Ahem.

So I decided, while surfing the net this weekend, to post my profile on a dating site. I won’t say which one, but suffice it to say it is one of the most expensive out there. I have yet to pay for it, because I am curious to see what kinds of matches I get. And these sites are good, you know? They feed you just enough information to tease you, but in order to make one single step forward, you have to pay.

I wasn’t sure how many if any responses I would get, especially since I posted pics of myself and I wasn’t sure how many guys would want to date an overweight, middle-aged self-proclaimed couch potato, but there you go. I hit “archive” on several matches already who were 3 inches shorter than me (at 5’11″ that’s not hard to do and there’s nothing wrong with short guys but really I’d like someone at least my height this time). Hey, if they can discriminate against me for my weight, I can discriminate against them for their height. Or lack of it. At least I can lose weight. Just sayin’.

And I also archived the one that had “I live to be green! I recycle, I compost, I have the smallest carbon footprint on the planet. I volunteer at the local soup kitchen all weekend! I exercise like a frenetic rabbit, I SCUBA dive, I run marathons, I ride in bicycle races, I spend 40 hrs a week at the gym, I am an exercise maniac!”

After reading that one, I put down my computer and took a nap. I was exhausted! Does this guy ever rest? I suppose he would think of resting as being one of the Seven Deadly Sins — thou shalt not sit thy narrow ass on a couch for just one second or a starving child in Africa dies.

And then I scratch my head in puzzlement at how in the frig I got matched with someone like that! 29 dimensions of compatibility, my ass! I am going to have to go take that compatibility questionnaire again or re-set my preferences.

Anyway, so I get this email from the site:

“You’ve got a communication from one of your matches!” my email from the dating site says. “Yay! Aren’t you excited? Don’t keep him waiting; reply today!”

So I go and look at the match, not bad, although I can’t see his face because while I can read his profile, in order to see his picture I have to pay. He’s listed several questions he wants me to answer as the next step in communication. I dutifully fill out the questions, hit send, but alas! You must pay to communicate. Hmmm. Okay, I will just proceed to email.

The website says: “You’ve decided to skip the guided communication and going straight to email. Well we won’t guarantee your match will want to do that, so don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from him.”

Okay it doesn’t say exactly that, but that’s the tone.

The email form pops up. I type “Hello Match, I don’t have a paid subscription at this time, but I wanted to let you know that I am working on it and plan to sign up in the next couple of weeks. I didn’t want you to think I was ignoring your request, so if you can be patient I’ll get to your questions soon. Otherwise we can just communicate this way. Thanks!”

Hit “send”

“You’re one step away from communicating with your match! Send us all your money, sign over your wages for the next century, and you, too, can talk to desperate middle aged men who are just dying to meet a sex partner get a green card wonderful woman such as yourself.”

Not happening. Archive.

I mean really? Why don’t they say that BEFORE they allow that little email window to pop up?? (that’s a rhetorical question btw…. yes I DO know why…)

Click on photos of your matches. “I’m sorry you must be a paid member to see that.”

Click on personality profile. “I’m sorry you must be a paid member to see that.”

Click on “who’s viewed me. “I’m sorry you must be a paid member to see that.”

Oh, and gotta love the matches who barely speak English. “I been in this wonderful country for two year. I loosed my wife to very bad sickness and raised my 2 kids alone. I need a green card a sucker housekeeper and nanny a women who love me long time.”

Archive.

Another one of my matches was “Chas.”

Chas. Really? I don’t think I could date a guy named Chas. This is a guy who is either 1) pretentious or 2) pretentious. Or he forgot how to spell Charles. Or he’s a closet gay.

Not that’s there’s anything wrong with that.

But please. Chas? Really? Somehow the idea of calling out that name in the heat of passion just doesn’t sound right.

Chas conjures up the image of a guy in a smoking jacket, puffing on a pipe in a hotel suite in Paris. In fact the image in my head is David Niven. (Oh, shut up. I hear you, going… “who the frig is David Niven?!?” Go Google him. I’ll go dig out my Geritol LOL!).

I’ll keep you posted!