Dumbroll, Please!

When I first jumped down this crazy rabbit hole called online dating, a close girlfriend who had a good 5 months running start ahead of me offered this shiny gem of wisdom for the coming journey:

“Guys do NOT like a clever girl. Don’t be the one to initiate contact. Wait for them to “wink” or email. Then, play dumb until you actually seal a date.”

Hearing this from her – a drop-dead gorgeous, double PHD grad student in anthropology and medicine – was not “like” the Mad Hatter spouting jabberwocky gibberish to Alice. It was exactly that. I rejected her advice on moral principle, and ventured into the digital wonderland alone, determined to fight off an army of suitors taken in by my pun-tastic, “CLEVER” self.

ONE-plus year into this, I’m beginning to think my burbled jubjub friend was onto something.

The proof, as they say, is in the single, JELL-O pudding cup Saturday night watching “Dawson’s Creek” reruns.

Also, the first set of emails below — ones that fall into the (alleged) “clever” category — are actual messages I sent to match.com guys that received NO, nil, nada response:

1. To guy who says he like “haiku’s” in his profile. I write:

             “Strike a match-dot-com/

             Hark, my baggy pantaloons/

             Stop, drop, rock AND roll.”



2. To nature guy who likes camping and sleeping under the stars, I write:

 “Up here in a friend’s North GA-cabin and I just saw a tailless squirrel! Do you think the ghost of Daniel Boone needed a new hat? Or maybe the critter brought a nut to a knife fight. Any thoughts?”



3. To high school grammar teacher:

“I’d like to see your dangling participle.”


4. To random guy who popped up in my Daily recommendations:

 “I think we might have a lot in common. I too enjoy the ‘little things in life.’ Flea circuses, pet sea-monkeys, anti-matter.”


5. To hipster-looking dude with mustache:

 “I’m curious. It’s a warm, sunny afternoon. Do you prefer to:

a.      Ride your bike to the farmers market and enjoy a hearty lunch in the park.

b.      Stay inside your cold studio and watch “Death Bed, the Bed that Eats.”

c.    Climb to the top of a weather tower to gather evidence as to why ‘global warming’ is actually the result of covert, Soviet climate controlled experiments.”


6. To guy who said he’s “fresh off the Quaker commune”  I write:

 “So, now that you live in the big city, how are you adjusting to life with electricity and pre-shucked corn?”



7. To other random guy who popped up in my Daily recommendations:

 “I think we might get along. You wrote that you’re looking for a woman who’s ‘beauty will bring you to your knees.’ And well, I’m a midget.”

 AND NOW — the next list includes those emails I sent 1 – only AFTER receiving a wink or message, and 2 -that got an immediate response and invitation to go out from the guy:

  1. Hey. I like your pecks. You look like you could lift a Porsche over your head with just your mind.
  2. Hey, the new Bourne movie is sooooo rad! You look rad too.
  3. Hey, I like your bathroom mirror shot. It really captures your angular jaw line.
  4. Hey, I’m a former nun just released from the convent in search of a new God to worship.
  5. Hey, since when did Ryan Gosling have a younger, hotter brother?
  6. Hey, are you a terrorist because those are some serious weapons of mass destruction.
  7. Hey, I have a really low tolerance for alcohol.

There is no moral to this story. There is only amoral.


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