Day 63: Myspace Or Yours:

If there's one absolute truth I've learnt about online dating, it's that a lot more people do it than are willing to talk about it. It's been around for years, yet it's still very much a taboo subject with some people. Finding people willing to tell me about their experiences with online dating wasn't easy. Is it because we're concerned about sounding (shock, horror) desperate? Or is it simply because the experience was too traumatic to revisit? The reason I've decided to look at online dating in more detail is because in the past year I've tried it myself. It wasn't a success, as this blog clearly illustrates, but I don't have any regrets.

My first foray into the world of online dating was a few years back and it was on My Single Friend. You know, the one where one of your friends does a write-up for you, as if you're an unwanted item going up on Ebay. I didn't have much luck, partly because I lost interest after a few weeks, and partly because of an enlightening lunchtime conversation I had with my male (very blunt) friend halfway through the process, which went a little like this:

Me: So, I'm giving My Single Friend a try.

Him: Ha ha – yeah, all my mates are on there.

Me: Oh really? Anyone I'd like?

Him: They just go on there looking for sex. All the girls are right desperates, so it's easy.

Me: !!!!!!!!!!!

On my second, and most recent, attempt, I decided to try eHarmony. All those smug adverts had finally lured me in. Given that I was utterly useless at finding a suitable man for myself, I figured why not give a computer a chance. At least we would have the same interests, right? Well, to give Smugharmony credit where it's due, their magical lurve computer did “match” me with some lovely blokes. Getting along-wise, it couldn't have done a better job, but actual chemistry... nope. I went on four dates with four very nice chaps, but I just didn't fancy any of them very much. The conversation flowed, as did the laughs, but there was no voice in my head going: “Rip his clothes off! Rip his clothes off!” Unfortunately for me (and them), if there's no insistent voice then there's just no point.

One friend agrees that this issue of chemistry is her main reason for being anti-online dating. “It’s harder to get that gut instinct through a screen. I believe our bodies let us know the person we are supposed to 'mate' with – we should not try to suppress those clues completely.” But what if you have been listening to those clues, but it's got you absolutely nowhere good? My friend elaborates, “I just don't like the idea of choosing a man from a database, or that some computer does the matching, according to a set of criteria. That would just mean romance is completely dead! And I would like to think not. I like the idea of meeting a man naturally. I enjoy the initial attraction – the dating and flirting. Surely that’s better than someone chosen from a bunch of profiles?”

The first time I went on an actual date with someone I'd been “matched” with, I was full of optimism. We'd emailed, texted and chatted on the phone, and so far it was all good, but as soon as we met I knew there was a problem. First of all, he was a pretty large chap. I don't have an issue with that, as such, but it did come as a shock. His profile picture was of just his face, and now I knew why. He even told me an “hilarious” story during dinner about a girl he'd met up with who, as he put it, “looked okay in her photo but was a right unit”. I almost couldn't hear him, what with all the pots and kettle banging together. Perhaps I was naïve in thinking people would tell the truth about themselves? One friend thinks so: “Anyone could be on there for any reason and there's no way of knowing. You know jack-shit about the person except what is on their profile and what they choose to reveal to you via emails or on a date.” So lying is to be expected, then? “People often use very old photos or lie in their descriptions,” another friend explains. “Men lie about height, ladies about weight and everyone lies about age.”

Call me dumb if you like, but what is the point of lying? Sure, it'll get you a first date, but isn't that just a waste of time and money if it's never going to lead anywhere? The main issue with the first guy I met, aside from his bulk, was the fact he'd lied about being a smoker. Smoke away, if that's what you like, but don't pretend not to in order to tempt me out. He even freely admitted that he'd changed that aspect of his profile because “you're matched with more women as a non-smoker”. A male friend assures me that it's not just men who feel the need to tell porkies. “I've met girls who proclaim they like this that and the other, but then when you get to the crunch they don't – they were either trying to get you interested or they were lying to themselves. In a virtual world, you can reinvent yourself, use pictures from three years ago when you were 3st lighter and just back from holiday. You chose how people see you, so there is the option to be economical with the truth.”

But is lying really that big of a deal? I mean, we do it all the time anyway when we meet new people. Girls lie about not wanting commitment, guys lie about wanting it, everyone lies about their “magic number”, the reasons behind previous break-ups and, in my unfortunate case on two occasions last year, the fact they have a girlfriend waiting for them at home. But then there are little lies and big lies. Clearly, pretending to be into sport to be matched with a sporty guy on an online site is a lot different to pretending to have no wife. I have to admit, I agree with one friend's view that “it is so much easier lying through a computer screen, so it’s actually more likely! It’s harder to get that gut instinct through a screen”. But surely not all the people who date online are liars? There are some success stories, right?

“I actually met my child’s mum online,” reveals a male friend. “I joke that I got her on Ebay! I bought a phone, there was a problem with Paypal going through, so we emailed each other, we kept on emailing each other, this turned into email flirting which turned into an arrangement for her to come down for the week from London. She did, and we fell in love.” Pretty amazing, right? OK, so they didn't meet on a dating site, but their relationship did begin in cyberspace. A girl that I used to work with about five years ago met her now-husband on a dating site and, as another friend points out, there are many examples of people finding real happiness. “I have had proper girlfriends from it,” he tells me. “And also made loads of new friends when we didn't quite click.”

So what's the difference between an online date and any other sort of date? I'd be willing to bet that most people would be less embarrassed about confessing to a blind date, with a friend of a friend, than they would an online date. And what about a date with someone you met on a night out? Surely you know even less about them than you do about someone you've exchanged 15 or so emails with? The difference is, you meet the person from the dating site because you're attracted to their sense of humour and personality, while you may meet someone from a night out because you're attracted to the way their jeans fit snugly across their bum. Let's face it, there isn't even any point in trying to deny the fact that lust is a much more powerful beast than common sense. The last guy I had a misjudged encounter (I call it that because it didn't even reach fling stage) with was totally wrong for me in every way, personality-wise, but God did he have the most kissable lips. How I was ever surprised that it didn't progress, I really don't know. Maybe the lust made my brain evaporate temporarily. What you ideally want is to meet up with one of these personality winners and find him a winner in the cute-tush department, too, which is exactly what happened to another friend of mine.

“I went on a date with four men I met online and didn't like any of them, but then there was one I REALLY fancied. We met at the bar of a posh hotel in Mayfair and proceeded to drink four bottles of wine and snog on the pavement outside like teenagers before he put me in a cab home. We went on another date, two days later, drank less, snogged again, agreed to go out again at the weekend, then he never got in touch again and ignored the text and call from me.” I know! I wanted it to have a happy ending too. But what went wrong? “He didn't have a photo on his profile,” my friend admits. “And I wonder whether he was married or something. Or, more likely, he just fancied a shag and I was clearly too interested in a bit more than that.”

I used to think that all the folk who signed up to dating sites were looking for something slightly more than a wham-bam-I-won't-even-bother-to-thank-you-mam, but that was in the days before my aforementioned lunch when the My Single Friend bombshell was dropped. But before you all start going, “Typical bloody men,” in your heads, be assured that some women are just as bad – if not worse, as you'll see from this next tale.

“I drove down to London and took this lady out for dinner. She was a lot younger than me, but she had approached me online. We went out for dinner and had a very enjoyable evening. I dropped her off at the Underground and sent her an email the following day. No reply. After a few more emails, she got back to me and said that she had a boyfriend, but when she was a bit hard up she contacts men and gets them to take her out for dinner.” Wow. Really flying the flag for unbalanced and uncaring bints, there, isn't she? Shocking behaviour! According to the fella this happened to, the online dating world is a much tougher place for men than women. “It’s bloody hard work! There are so many more men than women on the sites, so to get any sort of response you have to be very imaginative in your profile.”

Before I threw in the online dating mouse for good, I certainly had issues with just the sheer amount of time that it was taking up. All the new matches to search through, ice breakers to check, emails to reply to...it's a spare-time killer. And, if I was going to be really cynical, I'd even suggest that time was probably better spent out somewhere actually meeting people face-to-face. “I feel like I have enough emails/texts/FB messages to respond to without a whole bunch on from a dating site too,” agrees a friend. “Because there is so much choice, people often get stupidly fussy, and sometimes it can seem like quite a grind to sift through all those profiles,” says another. OK, so online dating is time-consuming, risky and “bloody hard work” - but what are the pros?

“Talking online is quite a good way of sounding people out, unlike drunken conversations in pubs. And, if it goes wrong, you can choose to never see them again,” suggests one male dater. “If I saw a girl I fancied in a bar, then aside from maybe eye contact and a smile, I wouldn't dream of saying hello or asking for a number,” confesses another. “Online breaks the boundary – you can say, ‘Hi,’ and not have the public humiliation of not getting a response. If you don’t get a email or whatever back then hey, no-one saw and nobody knows.” I do believe there's a certain percentage of online daters who have chosen that road after taking a serious bash to the self-esteem. For me, it was about avoiding what was rapidly becoming my new “type”, ie utter twats who cheat on their girlfriends. The problem is, I met some nice men online who were in no way like that - but did I fancy them? No chance. Therefore I can't really blame the lurve computer for picking the wrong people. The site did find men that I liked, it's just me who refuses to carry on dating if there's no chemistry. Is this a good decision, though? Should I stop letting myself be blinkered by lust and actually try to create a physical attraction from a mental one? You know what, I can't. And I'm done trying.

Before I go, there is just one more anecdote that needs to be shared – and it's a corker! During my first date with my fourth and final “match”, he told me about a girl he'd met online, who he'd taken out for a drink a few weeks previously. All was going well, he told me. She was pretty and seemed sweet, if a little quiet, and then after one return from the bar he noticed she'd produced a photo album. This photo album turned out to be full of pictures of this girl's pet rabbit. Just the rabbit. The rabbit in its hutch, the rabbit in the garden, the rabbit on her lap, the rabbit in close-up, the rabbit from a distance, the ra- Oh, you get the idea. When he started to laugh and ask – quite reasonably in my opinion – where the hidden camera was, she got very angry and said, “I thought you were different, but you're not – you're like all the others!” Needless to say, she never got a second date.

All I know about online dating now is that it's not for me. I met some great guys, had some great nights out and my self-confidence has definitely improved, but I can't see myself ever finding true love in cyberspace. For those of you who do/have, I applaud you, just make sure you check their bags for suspect photo albums when they aren't looking...