I have used, in the past 5 years, two dating services. One I saw in the in-flight magazine, which was wonderful but expensive, and the other Match.com. I have good friends who met and married and have what seems a perfectly put together life due to match.com.
I must face that they are very different personalities from mine.
The first dating service, I filled out a form with my criteria, and the yenta or yentus called me and told me where to be and the first name of the guy. Invariably, he was everything I asked for, and if it turned out that we didn’t click, that was fine.
Match.com is CHAOS. You have to look through the profiles like a million resumes, make a contact, and hope the contact likes you back. Or you answer the ones that contact you.
When a man contacts me through match.com, my most common internal reaction (I do not message the guy back with this) is, “My god, can’t you READ?”
My profile says I am seeking a non religious person within 50 miles of my geographical location and ten years, either way, from my own age.
I kept on getting messaged by retired Catholics from Texas. Once or twice, “I am searching for a godly woman.” (OK, that’s probably born-again, not Catholic, but still—didn’t he read my profile?) A man from Florida sent a very nice message two days ago. It took me a day to answer it because I just wanted to say, RTFP.
I say right in the profile I am politically non conformist and I am agnostic, and I still ended up having lunch with a guy who thought trans people were “faking” it to get into “the other” gender’s bathroom.
And then there are the ones where I want to message—but don’t— to say why are you even bothering? Why be on a dating service and post no photo? Why be on a dating service when you are only separated, not really single?
And then the ones that fill me with rage, like the men looking for women “with no extra pounds,” or willing to go up to thirty years younger than themselves but not one year older. Invariably the ones looking for no extra pounds are, in the words of the Fiddler on the Roof Yenta, not so much to look at.
My friend Calliope says the reason Match worked for our mutual friend Terpsichore is what she had to offer was better: Terpsichore is in her mid 20s and very beautiful. I am in my late forties and hippy.
The thing is, I am not at all–or at least I thought I was not–in the market for anything like what Terpsichore would want. I don’t want someone to give me children or help me buy a house, or help me establish my career. A woman who is a home owning widow with a child truly wants only companionship. That sounds pretty cool to me.
But Match has shown me that a lot of men in my age group really want a woman in her twenties. I was amazed to find this cliché is true. I never wanted to believe it. It seemed ridiculous. Why would a man in his forties or fifties even WANT a woman young enough to still be pursuing her first career, to want children, to have no financial stability? And if it’s looks he is after, shouldn’t he look in the mirror, first, before making demands?
Also, as tacky as it is, a widow has the added benefit of no problems with the ex.
I have not been a member of Match for months, now, and I still get e mails saying, “Someone is interested in you!” no doubt to get me to renew. Nope.
The Match.com experience was sufficiently enlightening to be worth the money. But never again.