A Book By its Cover

Online dating begins with the visual. 

When you have a total asshole photo of yourself, what reason is there for someone to bother to click and read your personal profile???

Can I tell you that the amount of shitty pics men have posted as a main profile photo, fucking blows my mind!!  Too dark.  Low quality.  Too far.  Sunglasses on.  Out of focus.  Group shots.  Photo with another woman(SERIOUSLY?!)  Photo with kids(REALLY?!).  Up the nostrils selfie and the best one of all…a goddamn photo of JUST their dog.  No wonder they’re STILL single.

The photographer in me is trying REALLY hard not to be greatly irritated at the sad state of some of these photos.  It just makes the sites I paid to use so much like the free Fishing site I purposely avoided. 

I decided to step up my game with the photos.  I added 5 more images of myself.  Another full body in a super-cute vintage bird print knee length dress where you can clearly see I’m disabled, two completely make-up free head shots as I think men like that shit too and two dolled-up selfies.  A well-rounded selection of perfectly focused, properly lit pictures of me.  Dudes should appreciate the effort I went through.  I may not be the prettiest or able bodied of the bunch but fuck, I put up some quality images.

I had a few views of my profile but when I added the extra photos there was a little more traffic and after 4 days of being a paying member of this seedy and questionable community, I got 5 hits…

They always say, “Never judge a book by its cover.”  I generally try to take this to heart as I would NEVER want someone to do that to me, especially now.  Thusly, with a grain of salt and a big fat deep breath I opened up the emails.

The first three dudes are old.  Dirty old-ass men close to their 70’s!!  WTF?!  My profile clearly states I’m looking for someone between 35-45.  They are not even good-looking silver foxes.  They are the kind of old that qualifies as Anna Nicole Smith material.  Totally asshole of me but I just delete the emails from the seniors.  I know, I know, I may have just flushed a sugar daddy down the drain.   I’m hard up BUT not THAT hard up…yet.

The last two emails come from one gentleman, 51 and another the same age as me.  Neither of them are what I would be physically attracted to (I’ve come to the sad and painful realization that not everyone will look like David Gandy). We have many of the same interests, as per my review of their profiles.  I need to add that they have used one of the many painful photo options I detest. 

{Sigh}.

The email from the older gentleman, aka ‘OG’, was nice.  Harmless actually.  He said he liked my profile and that he was well educated and found me to be a nice person.  My initial reaction was that he was a little old but in comparison to the grandfathers, this dude was a spring chicken.   The next email came from the dude who was the same age as me.  He was a little more cheesy-Rico Suave in his email.  He asked if I had plans this evening or for the weekend and said I had a nice smile.

It took me 4 days to actually reply to them.  Why?  I was chicken shit.  I also had no fucking clue how to properly respond.  What the hell do I say to a total stranger that won’t make it seem like I am needy and desperate?  They are after all basing their willingness to contact me based on my profile pics and personal profile.

I want to tell you that I did reply to their emails, but both emails took me over 2 hours to write. EACH.  I was a fucking wreck of nerves when I was typing out my replies.  My hands were shaking like I had Parkinson’s and I had a small anxiety attack.  I already know that I’m fucked if I ever go out on an actual date.

I replied to both with a similar yet different response.  I thanked them and told them I was very flattered and gave them a little more info about how I was a single mother and shit and the nature of the cancer I had.

I want to tell you then that after I hit ‘send’, I fucking dry-heaved in my bathroom for a good 10 minutes.

Now I wait for replies.

Enter the Dragon

*Please note that I have used pseudonyms for all the sites mentioned here.

This online dating world scares the crap out of me. 

All the available sites to choose from feels so daunting.  I was going to go with that Fishing site but it looked too skuzzy.  Kindling, looked even more skuzzier.  Don’t get me wrong.  I’m totally DTF but not in the spontaneous fashion as the young folk do it or the mega desperate.  However to be honest I’m leaning towards the latter considering that I haven’t been laid in years. 

I blame that constant yearn to my late night porn watching and Christian Grey.   He really did put a voodoo on my literary choices as of late.  I’m gonna have to go on a British reading bender once my sexual needs have been satisfied.

Back to this online dating thing…I tried for eComaptability but those bastards said I didn’t qualify because I am separated NOT divorced OR single, so I just signed up again using a different email address.   Hey!  It’s not as if I’m the only one who’s done this.  I also signed up with Similar.   Both legitimate sites I deduced based on the high production quality of their commercials on major TV networks.  It felt less desperate-housewife and more single-ready-to-mingle and with the possibility of sex after the appropriate timely courting.

I went through the motions of filling in my description based on the pre-selected options available.  Asian, curvy/a few extra pounds, 5’ 3”, non smoker, occasional drinker, spiritual but not religious, black hair, brown eyes, has kids, no pets and self-employed/baker/photographer.  I felt like I was applying for a beauty pageant.  A pageant for the lonely-hearts club where the winner gets the possibility of A) soul-mate for life, B) Friend-zone frenzy, C) heebie-jeebies or finally D) Oral orgy and more.  I’m looking for option D, however I have a feeling that option C will be more of my reality. 

After you enter all your basic stats you need to have a tag line; a statement to grab someone’s attention.  I can cut some serious wit and humor on my Facebook page because everyone I know on there knows me and well.  Not in the biblical sense but enough to know that I’m a complete open book and that I pretty much have no filter and that my love of British male model David Gandy is borderline fanatical, but we’ll save that for another time. 

I think that I’m confident conversing à la social media, but all that changes when you first meet me.  The real me is nothing like the social media me.  I’m incredibly shy, especially when in new environments/scenarios and VERY self-conscious. 

My physical disability is always the elephant in the room. 

How do I get someone to like me when I don’t even like myself? Especially now?  

Sash, a friend whom I’ve known for the last 15 years and is THE veteran when it comes to online dating, stepped in and helped me write my profile.   She kissed her fair share of frogs before finding her prince - surprise, surprise - via an online dating site.  Sash suggested that I disclose my disability right away.  I totally agreed with her.  She said it would weed out the pussies that didn’t have the balls to date a woman with my credentials. 

Hahahaha!  Credentials.  Girlfriends are ALWAYS good for an ego boost.  God I love this woman!  She told me that I have to keep the profile light and funny and just kiss the surface of what turns me on.  Below is my actual profile:

Photographer, baker and champion 3-legged racer.

I am a very able disabled person. Lost my right leg above the knee to cancer 7 years ago. If you can get over the first two statements then I already think you are awesome. :) 

I'm a former professional photographer who did commercial work and weddings. Post cancer I dabbled in a bit of baking which eventually became my main passion. There's something so gratifying about having someone taste what I've made that makes them roll their eyes and go weak in the knees with satisfaction. I'm a hardcore foodie. I've been known to wait in line for 3 hours in below zero temps just for a hot dog. (FYI--It was in Chicago...Hot Doug's for a foie gras hot dog with duck fat fries. So killer!) Cookbooks are my vice. My collection of them is vast and varied and I can throw a mean dinner party. I consider myself shy when meeting new people but I promise I'm anything but that once you get to know me. I'm looking for someone who doesn't mind changing things up last minute. I like going to museums, galleries and cultural landmarks but more so for their architecture then their art. I don't mind long drives to nowhere because that means there is conversation and music. I will admit that I like crappy pop tunes but big band and jazz have a soft spot in my heart. I'm a closet geek. So that superhero movie you're dying to see or that over complicated board game you need an extra player for, I'm so down for that. Staying in or going out as long as we're laughing it's perfect. 

They also ask what book you last read…

My reading profile is diverse but I shamefully admit I'm currently reading one of "those" books that have spawned post Fifty Shades of Grey. I know I'll have to read Aesop's Fables or the bio of Hillary Clinton to redeem myself.

So that’s it.   Me in 600+ words.  Words that are meant to ensnare men.  To enrapture them enough to make contact. 

Now this means shit if you don’t provide at least ONE photo of yourself.  One hot-ass photo at that.  Fuck. Do I even have a half decent photo of myself that doesn’t make me look like I don’t speak English, have a double chin, show my muffin top or that is actually HOT?  Hmmmm…I search my Facebook page for photos of just me with the most likes and kindly comments from my amazeball friends. 

I find one pic where I think I look cute.  My make-up and hair is on point and I’m smiling.  It’s from a night I was heading out to a girlfriend’s 40^th birthday party.  I think dudes like girls who smile, especially in their pics.   I make that my profile photo.  I also chose a full-body pic.  To not disclose what I look like, as a cripple would be kinda shitty, no? 

I find the pic where I have the smallest muffin top but is still fairly recent.  You see my crutches and I’m wearing a cowl neck green jersey ¾ sleeve top with a beautiful red, hand knitted infinity scarf made by TARO. I have tight jeans on.  The right side where my stump is, (yes, that is an actual medical term for the leftover bit of my leg) I have knotted up the denim so that I don’t trip. I have never bothered to cut any of my jeans or pants, as I have a crazy-ass dream that I’ll eventually get the leg I need and walk again. But we’ll save that bit for another time.

I look kinda meh, but it’s the best and most recent pic of me standing.  I’m going to run with those two photos first and see if they are man-catchy enough.

I let Sash review everything and it’s a thumbs up for her.  Let the Hunger Games begin…