If you haven’t done it yet, check out my story about putting myself on Match.com. This will make more sense if you do.
David was able to log into his old Match account today in order to find his dating profile. He emailed it to me this afternoon and I grinned like a damned fool while reading it. I have to say, he did a great job of describing what he is all about!
David gave me his permission to share it here (typos and all).
I’m rewriting this for what seems to be the one millionth time (if only there were balloons and confetti, i’d be sure it was one million). All my female friends loved the last one but it seemed painfully cheesey (match says cheesey is spelled wrong but it also says “i’d” is spelled wrong so i’m going with my gut on this one).
While trying to figure out how to describe myself in a way to attract the women of Match, I realized that isn’t the course I want to take. I want to find one woman who wants to be with me (and i want to be with) and not a hundred women who want to be with the sanitized version of me that I write in a profile.
That said, I’m going to start with my most obvious flaws and let anyone who continues to read on find out the rest. First off, I’m a slacker. My room and desk are covered in clutter. I watch too much TV (couch potato doesn’t really fit as i do exercise a lot and i’m in pretty darned good shape). I hate “I Love Lucy” (seriously. i don’t get why people love that show). I have too much of a tendency to rebel against authority. I love t-shirts, jeans, sneakers, PBJs and cold cereal a bit too much for a 35 year old. I use parenthesis way too much.
Alright. Are you still with me? I have some good points too. I love to laugh and make others laugh. I never take myself seriously. I try to always consider others before myself. I’m fit. I love to socialize and meet new people. I have a really cute dog. I’m open minded. I recycle. I’m self conscious enough to realize that the “good” paragraph is longer than the “bad” paragraph but I’m also confident enough to not care. My t-shirts, jeans and sneakers are clean and semi-stylish (my PBJs and cold cereal have very little style). I’m honest, loyal, patient and an all around good guy.
I have 2200 characters left to tell you what I’m looking for but I won’t need that many. I want a woman who is self-confident, funny, fit and has a positive outlook on life. . She wears a pretty dress to the symphony but doesn’t mind getting dirty on a camping trip. She made it through the “bad” paragraph, appreciated the honesty and maybe even giggled a bit. To paraphrase a cheesey but wonderful quote from a cheesey but wonderful movie, she makes me want to be a better man. That was only about 600 characters but I think it says an awful lot.
I have 1500 characters to waste on whatever I want now but I think I’ll save them for emails and conversations with anyone who made it this far. Thanks for reading.
That profile was up for a few months before I found it – the dog he mentions had passed away by the time I met him. David’s profile was buried under a sea of other men aged 29-40 who all claimed to love the outdoors. I found it after searching through hundreds of profiles and coming up with two potential interests.
Two. I’m nothing if not particular.
Testing the waters, I sent a “wink” to both guys. The one who wasn’t David responded fairly quickly and asked, “So where does separation leave you?” And then he didn’t reply to my response.
That lack of response, along with some other self-doubt that surfaced, led me to hide my profile before I had even heard from David. But a few days later I got a message from David asking where my profile had gone. I happened to be on my computer at the time (Jack was with his dad), so I jumped into the chat program and there he was. And we talked and talked and talked via instant message for hours.
Then we talked again the next day. And the next. We started IMing each other every day. And we added in phone calls (just a few, as we both dislike the phone).
Clearly, we clicked. At some point I found out David worked down the street from me and we decided to have lunch together across the street from my office. Jokingly, I told a co-worker about it “just in case I didn’t come back.” She ended up sneaking over to the restaurant to spy on us and make sure I was okay. (What an awesome lady!)
The connection we’d made online was even stronger in person. We couldn’t take our eyes off each other and, bizarrely, my whole body shook the entire time (it wasn’t exactly that I was nervous; I had a very physical reaction to him that I can’t even explain). I was embarrassed but he thought it was funny (and teased me accordingly). I barely ate but we did talk a bunch more and then I surprised us both by hugging him goodbye. I am most definitely NOT a hugger and I had warned him about that but, holy hell, I became a hugger with David.
I’m pretty sure I agreed to marry him because he was hugging me at the time.
Or, you know, it could have been because I was head over heels in love with him. And you know what? Five years later, I still am. (Awwwww.)