.six months to live.
anyone who knows me knows that i am hooked on reading the mercury personal ads. i do it like a normal person would browse the daily paper or a magazine. i sit on my couch after work with a beer or a glass of wine, turn on some mindless television, and read through "men seeking women." i read the same profiles over and over with endless fascination and i keep my eye out for these fellows at my neighborhood bars and on the bus. they're like my personal local celebrities.
i visited a specialist two days ago to get some help with my debilitating tmj, as i like to call it. it's hopeful. he says i might be able to open my mouth and eat food again in six months. but when i asked him about long term plans, he suggested orthodontia. the words "adult braces" were spoken, and it sounded like a death sentence. i bit my tongue to keep from telling him off, but i know that when push comes to shove, i'll do it. i'll be that lady, the one with braces, for a year rather than never be able to eat comfortably for the rest of my life. it's kind of a no-brainer.
well, i drove straight from the tmj specialist's office to my friend's house listening to death cab and realizing that i could lose my late twenties, my prime dating years, to adult braces. and i realized that it may be now or never for dating. jokingly, my friend suggested i post a personal ad on craigslist. "it will be funny! we can laugh at the people who respond." i never, ever thought i would participate in the online dating scene. even if everyone else is cool with it, i still associate it with a lot of stigma: it's pathetic, sad, desperate. i just like to watch the other silly, desperate singles sing for each other while watching the entire first season of the o.c. on dvd with my cat. cuz i'm not pathetic.
anyway, my friend, she's a clever girl, and she knew if she could get me to dip my toe in the internet dating pool, under the guise of kidding, i'd end up jumping in with all my clothes on. she was right. i find it delightful. i don't know why this has never occurred to me before, but online dating is perfect for me. i'm awkward and shy in person, but in text i feel safe and sassy and smart. just writing an ad was a riot.
what i didn't expect was the deluge of emails i received. i mean, my ad was short and honest: i like cats, television, and going to bed early. who knew that close to fifty men would respond? and not with short responses, either, but long-winded and carefully crafted pleas. one guy sent a hypothetical conversation between me and him in which he tries to impress me and i tell him his fly is down. another man is a pro-golfer. most of them send pictures, and most of them make me cringe. but i am amazed at the bravery and unabashed hope of this batch of suitors. i suspect that these are some of the same hipsters who haunt my neighborhood bar, aloof and solemn, closed off to conversation. but online, they share measurements, secret details of their record collections, and hopes for the future.
the best part about this experiment is that i got several emails from men who had personal ads on the mercury. i felt like i was getting emails from madonna. it's THAT guy, omigod, i KNOW him. one guy sent me an email with the exact same text as his mercury ad, which i recognized immediately. and i replied by sending him pictures of himself. poor guy is so freaked out he's still emailing me, convinced that i'm his friend lisa. another guy, incredibly handsome, didn't respond when i sent him my picture: my first online rejection. but the whole endeavor has kept me amused and giggling all week.
at six o'clock today, i'm going on my first real live internet date. and not to a guy who responded to my ad. one ad caught my eye because he talked about the free scones at my favorite breakfast restaurant, and then went on to talk about wanting to adopt children and someday get a vasectomy. who says that? and in a personal ad! women plead with their husbands for years to get vasectomies, and this guy is offering it up to strangers. so who knows. i'm having a beer with him today and, at the very least, it is sure to be a story. i'll keep you posted.
i visited a specialist two days ago to get some help with my debilitating tmj, as i like to call it. it's hopeful. he says i might be able to open my mouth and eat food again in six months. but when i asked him about long term plans, he suggested orthodontia. the words "adult braces" were spoken, and it sounded like a death sentence. i bit my tongue to keep from telling him off, but i know that when push comes to shove, i'll do it. i'll be that lady, the one with braces, for a year rather than never be able to eat comfortably for the rest of my life. it's kind of a no-brainer.
well, i drove straight from the tmj specialist's office to my friend's house listening to death cab and realizing that i could lose my late twenties, my prime dating years, to adult braces. and i realized that it may be now or never for dating. jokingly, my friend suggested i post a personal ad on craigslist. "it will be funny! we can laugh at the people who respond." i never, ever thought i would participate in the online dating scene. even if everyone else is cool with it, i still associate it with a lot of stigma: it's pathetic, sad, desperate. i just like to watch the other silly, desperate singles sing for each other while watching the entire first season of the o.c. on dvd with my cat. cuz i'm not pathetic.
anyway, my friend, she's a clever girl, and she knew if she could get me to dip my toe in the internet dating pool, under the guise of kidding, i'd end up jumping in with all my clothes on. she was right. i find it delightful. i don't know why this has never occurred to me before, but online dating is perfect for me. i'm awkward and shy in person, but in text i feel safe and sassy and smart. just writing an ad was a riot.
what i didn't expect was the deluge of emails i received. i mean, my ad was short and honest: i like cats, television, and going to bed early. who knew that close to fifty men would respond? and not with short responses, either, but long-winded and carefully crafted pleas. one guy sent a hypothetical conversation between me and him in which he tries to impress me and i tell him his fly is down. another man is a pro-golfer. most of them send pictures, and most of them make me cringe. but i am amazed at the bravery and unabashed hope of this batch of suitors. i suspect that these are some of the same hipsters who haunt my neighborhood bar, aloof and solemn, closed off to conversation. but online, they share measurements, secret details of their record collections, and hopes for the future.
the best part about this experiment is that i got several emails from men who had personal ads on the mercury. i felt like i was getting emails from madonna. it's THAT guy, omigod, i KNOW him. one guy sent me an email with the exact same text as his mercury ad, which i recognized immediately. and i replied by sending him pictures of himself. poor guy is so freaked out he's still emailing me, convinced that i'm his friend lisa. another guy, incredibly handsome, didn't respond when i sent him my picture: my first online rejection. but the whole endeavor has kept me amused and giggling all week.
at six o'clock today, i'm going on my first real live internet date. and not to a guy who responded to my ad. one ad caught my eye because he talked about the free scones at my favorite breakfast restaurant, and then went on to talk about wanting to adopt children and someday get a vasectomy. who says that? and in a personal ad! women plead with their husbands for years to get vasectomies, and this guy is offering it up to strangers. so who knows. i'm having a beer with him today and, at the very least, it is sure to be a story. i'll keep you posted.
posted by .i'll never tell. at 10:15 AM
2 Comments:
this is great! i'm still laughing. nice post. and 50 guys--holy shit. your personal ad is adorable and perfectly you. maybe i'll have to get you to dare me to do it, too...
I no longer think you're Lisa.
Fyi.
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