I’ve had a lot of experience with online dating. That’s how I met my husband, almost four years ago.
Before Mike, there were a variety of fellas I had the pleasure of meeting (and letting them buy my dinner).
There was: a teacher or three, a lot of computer nerds, some guy with a mysterious government job, an Indian giant, a guy who was really into swimming, one who cried a bit too regularly for me, another who seemed repulsed by the idea of actually touching me (yet kept asking me out), a guy who was definitely planning on slipping something in my drink, a preacher’s son, and one who seemed really lazy (turns out he just had mono).
I decided I would go out with whoever asked — why narrow the playing field, I figured.
Let’s just say there were a lot of first dates.
It was a lot to keep track of, obviously. Especially when some of them had the same, or similar names.
This morning, my friend Kelly sent me this story, about a guy who organized all his online dating prospects into a very detailed spreadsheet and then actually sent it to one of the girls he was seeing.
And then, like every other girl in the world, she forwarded it to her friends, and probably her mother (because she thought it was flattering, hilarious, creepy — or all of the above) — and they promptly sent it to everyone they knew. So, naturally, it’s a news story now.
Uhhh — don’t do that.
I mean, make your list, if you have to — but don’t send it to the people on it.
I managed to keep it all straight, without a spreadsheet. I also managed to email a copy of each date’s photo and some basic info to my BFFs in case I disappeared — because Momma didn’t raise no fool — and because I wanted the Dateline producers to have what they needed.
One guy I was seeing before I met Mike had a list — I know, because I found it on his desk.
Hold your horses! I wasn’t snooping! (Fine, maybe a little)
He was running late, I asked if I could use his computer — and there it was laying right there on the desk. A handwritten list of lady’s names (including mine) — some were crossed out, some were question marked, and some were circled. And some were clearly added after mine.
Mine was circled.
I hoped that was code for “awesome; big boobs” and not “trap in hole, make a skin suit.”
And then (thankfully!) I met my future husband a few weeks later. Phew!