Once upon a time, a friend managed to convince me to try a dating website. She still doesn't know she managed to convince me, because I never told her. I did it in secret one night. I closed the door to my bedroom and stuffed a towel along the threshold. I didn't want my roommate to see the light and want to know what I was up to. It felt dirty, kind of like watching porn.
I went on two of the most popular websites and entered all my information. As I scrolled through my "matches" I wasn't disappointed, but I also wondered how many of these guys were actually on the website and how many were just faked profiles to draw me in... I'm fairly certain the Eric Dane look-alike wasn't hurting for dates. Even if he was a "busy, successful business man". The only "business" that man could have been involved in (that would prevent him from getting a date) would be the drug business.
I won't lie, I got excited a couple of times. Until I checked out the price tag connected to a potential liaison with these mysterious soul-mates. If the weirdness didn't stop me, sticker-shock did. Every time I actually thought about signing up I got a shudder. So I sat, scrolling in a self-loathing manner in my darkened bedroom like some kind of anti-social pervert. As I reached the end of my list, I found a five star match. He was perfect for me, according to the dot com version of destiny. He met all of my qualifications. We had the same goals, we both wanted big families. We had the same hobbies, we were astrologically predestined to bear the next great American author, artist and/or actor. If we did not immediately marry, the world would implode with the desperate hopelessness of it all! He couldn't have been more attuned to my every secret desire and need.
He was my ex-boyfriend!
If it didn't work with that guy the first time or the second or even the third... even Roto-Rooter couldn't fix it!
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