[1]Before signing up for Match this time around, I made a commitment on these pages. If I found three men I was willing to contact, I would join for six months. In the past, I never registered for more than a month at a time, and I would keep the end date marked in bold letters on my calendar. By the time it rolled around, I couldn’t wait to be free.
These days, Match offers a guarantee. If you sign up for six months, and you don’t find “someone special,” you get six more free. Here’s the catch. Each month, you must make email contact with five different men. Winks don’t count. (If you don’t know what a wink is, you’re lucky. But write me. I’ll tell you all about it.)
I have just entered my third month. And since I like to get the bad stuff over with fast, today, I forced myself to find five men who I could bear, and sent them cheery introductions. Dating sites advise you to find a detail in their profile to comment on, so your note sounds personal, and not like just fulfilling your quota. (For example, “You don’t like capers? Why is that? LOVE to hear from you!) The whole enterprise is exhausting. My track record is miserable. The only two men with whom I exchanged numbers, didn’t call. (One of them gave me a wrong number. Are we in high school?)
Here’s what would keep my spirits up during this experiment. SEND ME your dating clichés. Like “dating is not mating.” Or “plenty of fish in the sea.” What bad advice have you heard through the years? Misery loves company.
(Illustration: Ben Heine [1])