Matchmaker, matchmaker, make me a match!

I get a text from one of my best friends yesterday saying, "I think you should ditch OKCupid and go to a matchmaker." My first instinct is (perhaps ironically?): No. Way. For a number of reasons, really. I'm generally against paying to date. It also feels a little weird to not get to pick the guys yourself? Not that I have a great track record. In fact, I don't message men on OKCupid because the few guys I've been out with that I've messaged first, I haven't liked. So I feel it's usually easier to have them come to you. My friend informs me that it's usually free for women. And only for people looking for serious long term relationships (and therefore, she won't do it with me).

She sends me the link to two websites: Amylaurent.com and Clubviplife.com. Now, objectively speaking, Amy Laurent sounds more my speed than Club VIP Life. For maybe obvious reasons. Amy Laurent sounds like a matchmaker. Club VIP Life sounds like people who club and want/have a VIP lifestyle. So I start clicking through Amy's website. And go to the Ladies Application form (just out of curiosity). It all seems pretty standard. Amy informs the applicant that this is a prescreen, first-round part of the application and she'll contact us if she feels like we're a viable dating candidate. When she starts asking for my bodily measurements, I decide that this is probably not the way it's going to happen for me. I click through the gentleman's application and am a little peeved that she doesn't ask for any measurements.

So maybe Club VIP Life is the way to go? I am generally less offended by Club VIP Life's website. They also omit "Club" from their title so the website really should be called VIP Life. Which, while not ideal, is still better.

Though I have to admit I'm curious that women don't get charged. Are we inherently looking for sugar daddies who can pay exorbitant fees to date us? Does Amy Laurent and Club VIP Life take every man who applies/can pay (because finding one who has money and is interested in a LTR that hard to come by?)?

Club VIP Life puts it like this: "VIP Life Membership is always free to woman of substance, style and beauty who are looking for a serious relationship with the man of their dreams."

Amy is not so nice about it: "Please fill out the application in its entirety and submit along with one recent photo. If we feel we may be able to place you within our network, we will contact you for an in-person interview."

However the men get:

Club VIP Life: "If you'd like to get started immediately, we welcome your call. You can reach us at 212 242 4755. We are available to speak to you about your needs and answer any questions. Or, if you prefer, please submit an online application and we will contact you as soon as possible to further determine your needs and what you're looking for in a mate."

Amy: "We are pleased to extend to you our confidential application to be part of what has become the most exclusive private club of highly eligible singles. Please complete the form below and one of our staff will contact you."

Now, I suppose it's fair to say that matchmaking is a old fashioned practice and so I shouldn't be surprised at this double standard. And I'm a general believer that men should pay for the first date. But isn't this a little extreme? I'm not sure this kind of matchmaking is for anyone besides investment bankers looking to meet models. And probably not me.

Your Face

This morning on the 1-train I gave my phone number to a tall, hunk-of-man, probably 30-something, part-Sicilian, part-Argentinian, bodyguard named Sam who said I had the face of someone he'd fall in love with.

I'm not sure if this was a good idea or not and further convinces me that I should probably consider coffee before talking to ANYONE.

It's Complicated

It's true. I'm in a middle-school variety fake Facebook relationship with one of my best friends. She's fantastic and in Arizona and I miss her dearly. My "relationship" with her is the longest, most functional one I've ever had. And that's the truth.

I'm talking to a boy on OKCupid tonight, and he asks to friend me on GChat. I'm very selective with who I friend on GChat because I'm basically on it all the time. So I (lie) and tell him I don't use GChat often. He then says that we should be friends on Facebook (I'm sure you have an idea of where this is going by now). I am tired and so say fine, and plop him in a heavily filtered friend-group specially reserved for situations like this. He says he has to go to bed, and I go on with my evening. Five minutes later, this boy signs back onto OKCupid in the following interaction:

Him: you are in an its complicated
Him: Not sure I like that sorry
Me: With a girl :)
Him: is it non serious
Him: I did date a girl on jdate who came out
Me: It is a joke haha
Him: lol
Him: not that funny
Me: Pretty funny

I'm pretty sure it's meant to be, and so am thrilled I managed to avoid getting dumped on our first OKCupid interaction. What a relief.

Rule #1: If you're not ready to be a daddy, no "surrogate daddy" drama.

Greetings singles, couples... mom? I'm sorry? Allow me to introduce myself.

I am the the Elusive Straight Male, a lover (part of the Puerto Rican kind), a student, a teacher, and (newly) single. Though I have been subjected to two hard break-ups the last year (especially this current one), I have gotten to this point in my life due to breaking the "rules" while creating my own. As a teacher, I fully agree to the quote, "teachers make the worst students." Instead of following a curriculum, I'm rewriting it and these posts are my evidences.

Where does this leave me with "surrogate daddy" drama"? It all started with a click...

Like many others, two years ago, I looked to OkCupid to solve my dating woes. I was a Senior at a NYC university and aside from a very awkward first-time experience a year before (that's for a future post), I have been single, slightly jaded, but eager to explore what the site offered more than just quizzes. I have made a few friends and had some flirtations through it. However, no successes came from it until...

Maria.*

Maria, the first Hispanic woman I've been attracted to in years.
Maria, a firey, fierce, flirteous, luscious, full-figured nursing student from Connecticut one year my senior.
Maria... who had a 3 year old daughter from a previous relationship.

I was 21, three months away from graduation and four months away from meeting the first of the two women who separately captured my heart this past year. I was a month removed from a crazy Spring Break in Miami where I was wilder than previously thought.

I was ready, I was willing... even willing to meet someone traveling a few hours via Peter Pan bus to see them for what became nothing more than an one-night stand.

Thank. God.

When I was picked up and driven to her house, I was greeted immediately by the hi's of her daughter. So sweet, smart... and exactly not who I wanted to see first after Maria. With a build-up of three weeks of steamy, sensual flirting, there was really only one thing I had in mind... and it wasn't seeing what would be the result of unprotected actions.

Still, I rolled with it.

Her daughter occassionally came in and out of the living room where we spent time cuddling and watching TV. We didn't get any kinds of horizontal until her daughter was well-asleep. Yes, the time was steamy. Yes, the time with her built up my sexual confidence and experience (that my suitors after her all benefitted from). Yes, I felt mostly comfortable hanging out with her...

But still. Her daughter...

Regardless of how fun the experience was, I could not shake her daughter out of my mind. Could I see myself coming up to see Maria every other week, providing an emotional daddy base? Even if that was never asked of me, I'd feel compelled to. I'm a care-taker and being a teacher a few months after that experience only emphasized that side of me. Could I come up just to "slam, bam, and thank you ma'am" while trying to shut myself out from her daughter?

Could I, as a 21-year-old with no job, no degree, and no place to live (at that time), really play that "surrogate daddy" role?

We talked online a few times afterwards, but nothing more ever came from it. She moved to North Carolina, Facebook friends no more, and the last time I saw her profile, she was smiling and in a new relationship. As she moved on, I moved on, which will be addressed in future posts.

MILF? Sure, but like the myths porn and other guys state are true, it wasn't as good as it seemed. De-mything.

Until next time.

The Legend of Stillman

There is a legend among us.

The Legend of Stillman.

Stillman was a fresh-faced young first-year adopted by Jezebel at the beginning of our junior year. Stillman had curly red hair. Stillman wanted to join the Israeli army. Stillman played Ultimate Frisbee and wore a lot of plaid. Stillman looked kind of like a 15-year-old grunge rock enthusiast.

Stillman also got more ass than the three of my housemates (and myself) combined.

This was a mystery to us. We were four eligible young ladies of various sexual persuasions. We were smart. We dressed well. We took care of our personal grooming. We were, I daresay, reasonably attractive. So why was this one crazy freshman so much more successful than us?

One evening, we finally asked Stillman what her secret was. She shrugged and said: "Well, basically, you go to a party, drink some beer, and start asking every single person if they want to have sex with you."

We blinked. We looked at each other. Then we shrugged too. It made sense.

So Stillman played a numbers game, but none of us were sure that her method was one we wanted to employ. We merely marveled at her prowess and enjoyed watching her in action. My single best Stillman story is the night that she had a threesome with two other girls (one supposedly straight) on our living room chair. This was in the middle of a busy party, and yes, there are pictures on Facebook that we didn't take ourselves. Thankfully they eventually moved it to the bathroom. There are football players out there who remember our apartment as "the lesbian house," which we think is kind of unfair.

Stillman eventually transferred to U of W - Madison, and I'm sure that she has banged every women's rugby player on campus by now. But all of that is neither here nor there. The point is: before Stillman left, she passed on a tiny silver pinkie ring to Jezebel. I was pining ineffectually after a certain bespectacled young man at the time, and Jezebel took pity on me. She passed the ring onto me.

We looked on Stillman's Ring as a magical object, an object infused with her unstoppable mojo. Surely, by wearing it, it would pass some of her glory onto us.

To make a long story short, I did not win the love (or lust) of the bespectacled young man. The ring stayed in my jewelry box for the next year or so, but Jezebel would always tell me to wear Stillman's Ring to one party or another. Finally, I crooked my beringed little finger at a tall young man, and he walked me home. And took me out for dinner. And eventually took off my clothes. The relationship lasted a little over a year.

Jezebel, of course, saw this as proof of the ring's magic. I was a little skeptical. Why did it take a year to go into effect?

I broke up with my tall young man on a lovely spring day (this is a story for another time). 36 hours later, I met someone else. I didn't know he would be Someone Else at the time, but a little over a month later, he too was taking me out for dinner. That was in May. Now he wants to take me home for Christmas.

Jezebel decided that enough was enough. "Give me back Stillman's Ring!" she told me. "You've had your share. I need it now."

She came down to DC for a business function and we made the trade in the middle of a conference center. I smiled as I gave it to her, feeling decidedly unprofessional. We hugged, and she left for New York again. I wished her the best.

(No, my current young man did not break up with me the next day. Stillman's Ring giveth and does not taketh away.)

I'm writing this history because approximately 30 minutes ago, Jezebel sent me an angry text: "You broke the Stillman Ring and I may never forgive you..."

I reminded her that the ring takes a full year to adapt to its new owner and starting working its magical. She was not happy to hear this.

Jezebel: Believe. And may the Stillman be with you.

The Problem with Dating Unemployed, Local, West Coasters

Now. I thought I had found the jackpot of online dating:

1) From Washington State. Which probably means he's at least half hippie. Probably values the outdoors, and probably nice and arty. Also has a 97% chance of loving Dan Savage (which he did). Cheers, Dan!


2) Said boy is now living very locally to me. Now this could potentially be an issue if things didn't work out. Especially because of one New York City rule. Despite the 1.6 million people living on the island of Manhattan alone, you are almost guaranteed to run into the one person you are trying to avoid. Repeatedly. These odds are even higher, if the said person you're hiding from lives a whopping three blocks away. HOWEVER, if things do manage to work out for a bit, then you can have dates in the neighborhood, no one is traveling too far, and a lot less planning is involved. You can be lazy about it like a pair of sprawling puppies.


3) He is unemployed. Another borderline plus. However, he volunteered at a highly esteemed art museum. So he wasn't wasting away his time. And, was rather available. He did manage to live in Manhattan, and seemed to support himself. Perhaps he had a high-paying job in the past? Independently wealthy? Perhaps he ran some sort of gambling den out of his apartment? Irrelevant. He had time to spare, yet also managed to give back to the community through volunteering. Awesome.


How could it go wrong, you ask? He was into me and ALL THESE THINGS! The potential for true love was never stronger. Allow me to explain. When you are not cohabiting with your parents, while living in Manhattan, and not earning a cent, your money runs out. A minor detail that I'd managed to overlook. When your money runs out, and you are living on the opposite coast from your family and relatives, chances are you will have to pack up your things and move back home. When you've been dating a girl for only ... three-ish dates? There are not a lot of options in terms of a future. And so, you break things off to sort out your life.

And that's where things went awry.

Which makes me almost (but not quite) as sad as this kid:

Somewhere Something Went Right

Picture this: it's a balmy Saturday night and three lovely ladies are lounging about in Bryant Park, deciding how to spend their evening. "I'm so frustrated with online dating!" says one, and the others quickly agree. The men they are meeting online are either too timid or too aggressive, too unattractive or too good-looking to be true and most of the time things weren't panning out for these lovely gals. Now, they are all gorgeous and accomplished young ladies, but meeting available single men while out and about in NYC proved to be difficult; what, you ask, is a lady to do?

One suggested - "Why not try speed dating?" The others were quick to dismiss, thinking that it was too weird or expensive (because, you know, everything is expensive here in NY!), but they thought about it some more. Finally, one bravely decided to google it, and see what the World Wide Web said; lo and behold, there was a speed dating event that very next evening for "single young professionals!" The ladies were still quite hesitant and decided to sleep on it. The next morning, they quickly decided to bite the bullet and sign up - there was no turning back!

They arrived that evening after spending just a bit too much time getting ready and made a beeline to the bar - liquid courage was necessary for this endeavor! All too quickly, they were told to split up, take a seat and await their manly suitors! This lady was nervous as hell, but decided to just see what happened; it was then that her first suitor sat down in front of her. They quickly struck up a conversation about NYC neighborhoods and BBQ'ing and other things and the 5 minutes passed pleasantly - this lady was then pretty damn excited because this first suitor had definitely piqued her interest.

Needless to say, for this lady, everything began in those 5 minutes. It's been a few months since that day and this lady knows that she definitely won the prize that night...Time will tell, but, for now, she is infinitely happy that she took a leap on that balmy Saturday evening.

Kiss The Girl

What better lesson to learn from The Little Mermaid? For those not familiar, the temporarily mute Ariel has to get the strapping young prince to kiss her or she'll have her soul eternally signed away to the witch-octopus-queen and she'll live a life as a shriveled unhappy girl in a garden of shriveled unhappy souls. In an attempt to save her soul, her friend Sebastian tries and sets the ambiance for an awesome first kiss by singing the following song:



Thankfully, the stakes are rarely this high. However, that pit (or is it butterfly?) feeling in your stomach when waiting for that first potentially wonderful, potentially awkward, kiss can sometimes feel like the leap between a life as a miserable singleton and the bliss of mutual affection.

After a second successful date, I was walked home by an awkward, sweet, smart, awkward boy. We had shared a bottle of wine and I was slightly flushed and at that face-numb pre-buzzed place. A good place to be. He walked me up the two stairs to the front door of my building...

Silence.

I turn myself to face him square on.

Nothing.

I angle my face slightly upwards.

He shifts uncomfortably. It is apparent that I do not have a lovable crab, turtle drums, crickets, or a romantic boat ride to help my case. I immediately worry that I've misjudged the situation. In my not-quite-tipsy state I may have made some incorrect assumptions. I freeze in my somewhat uncomfortable pose trying to figure out how to quickly remedy it. Smile, say goodbye, search for my keys? Pretend to be stretching my neck? I smile and start to shift. He shifts and takes a half step towards me and whispers, "I don't know what to do!" I take a half step towards him and say, "Kiss me!"

And he kissed the girl. Sebastian would be proud.

I take full responsibility for everything

I joined OKCupid in the fall of 2005, when I was a really bored college freshman. I was not interested in dating anyone from a website. I just wanted to take mindless internet quizzes for a couple hours while all my friends were off having sex.

So I did. And then forgot about it. And then every few months, I would reach the depths of boredom, and the process would repeat itself.

In the summer of 2008, I went to NYC for an internship. My good friend Jezebel was one of the few people I knew in the city, so I spent a lot of time lounging in her apartment. One day, she complained "I'm bored". And then... the saga began.

Since I am really just a thirteen-year-old at heart, I said "Let's take internet quizzes!". Except Jezebel wasn't so much into the quizzes as she was the free dating site aspect. She created a profile, and then nagged me into filling out mine. We looked at the young men of the city spread out before us... it was like looking at a boy catalog! How could we resist?

Okay. I admit it. I was the first one to go on a date. I found a hip, smart Japanese boy in Brooklyn who gave me a pretty good rating. He invited me to see a show at the Whitney Museum, which naturally appealed to me. We met up at Starbucks. He was barely taller than me and had a wispy goatee. I rolled with it. We went to the museum and he had all sorts of interesting things to say about Buckminster Fuller, and we kept up a steady conversation all the way through the museum. Eventually we ended up outside and continued our stroll through Central Park, where we stopped to watch the birds and talk about Apple's business plans. He seemed incredibly knowledgable about a lot of things. He was also a college dropout about six months younger than me. I was intrigued. We walked halfway across Manhatten before we decided to hop train back to Brooklyn and have dinner at a little place he knew in Williamsburg.

Dinner took a long time. We shared a few appetizers and had a few drinks, and the sky was dark by the time we left. We were still keeping up the conversation. I mentioned a friend in passing who loved Ayn Rand and didn't believe in evolution. The Boy's eyebrows raised. "Well," he said, "I mean, I think there are some valid points there."

I was drunk. Part of me said "Uh oh" but I breezed over it and went on.

Eventually it was about 10 pm and we had spent the last 7 hours together. Epic date. I parted with him at the subway station, ready to head back to Jezebel. He gave me a peck on the lips and I left with a smile on my face.

Soooooooooo

I saw him once more a week later and found him weird and supremely annoying. I was leaving NYC in two weeks, I was completely broke, and our great conversation had stalled in the face of my stress. Who was this weird Randian college dropout? Why did I kiss him? What on earth happened? This whole boy catalog thing wasn't as great as I had hoped.

Thus ended my first (and only) experience with OkCupid dating. Jezebel has many more interesting stories to tell on that subject. I can only take credit for getting the ball rolling.

In a Relationship

After exiting one of the more significant relationships of my life, I wasn’t anxious to jump back into the dating scene. Online dating, however, provides an interesting, noncommittal approach to the whole thing. Make a profile – maybe people message you – maybe they won’t. Maybe someone strikes your fancy – maybe they won’t. No obligation. No pressure. And that was the most appealing thing to me – manshopping with no purchase required. Just a simple yet comforting reminder that there are, in fact, other (straight and available) fish in the sea.

Not long after creating a profile, I received an IM from a young man. “i had to message you because youre the only other person I ever 'met' who double-majored in theatre and psyc!” A simple and clear indication that he’d read my profile. And while perhaps I wasn’t really looking for anything, I love talking to people who can talk to me about theater. So I responded. He was ever positive and exuberant. Everything I said to him he encouraged with an “Awesome” or a “So great!” and while this is not necessarily the most attractive in a man and usually comes off as trying-too-hard or simply phony, something felt very honest to me. Probably I was just looking for a little optimism, but I gave him my IM name, happy to have someone to talk to who seems so exuberant and interested.

We would chat often and his positive energy was addictive. He had a band with his friends that would perform gigs and he'd post photos to Facebook of the rocking out having an amazing time. I would imagine being there and cheering him on until the wee hours of the morning. I was strangely encouraged by his "looking for" on Facebook: Friendship, Dating, or A Relationship. Which again, might be perceived as a little desperate, but I ate it up.

Then one morning I go to check out his dating profile. But it didn't seem to exist anymore. I went through my messages concerned that I'd made a spelling error but low and behold I got the note: "I couldn’t find anyone with that profile name. Maybe try searching for someone else?" Interesting. I go to check out his Facebook profile. "In a relationship." Interesting. I mean, not that he owed me anything, we hadn't even met in person. But still it felt like a rejection. I awaited our next conversation where he would break the news to me.

Soon enough we were talking again. Did he mention a new girlfriend? No. Next day? Still no. Three conversations later? Not a hint.

I decided to take matters into my own hands. I'm not really interested in being the other woman. Being my super-smooth self I subtly asked, "So you are in a relationship now?" Which he denied vehemently. Apparently Facebook Mobile messes everything up on his profile. Including his Relationship Status and Looking For sections. Seemed reasonable enough. And seemed easy enough to fix. A few days later when he was still listed as in a relationship, I brought it up again. The following exchange ensued:

Him: id still like to meet up at some point
Me: haha okay
Me: maybe when you're single again
Him: bleghhhh lol
Him: meanie
Me: it's weird!
Him: what is?
Me: your relationship status
Me: did you try changing it?
Him: jeez youre really gung ho about this arent ya?
Me: I am!
Me: It makes me uncomfortable
Me: I don't think that's that unreasonable
Me: I bet if I were listed as in a relationship you'd have some questions for me, no?
Him: uh, no.
Me: Really?
Him: im telling u the truth
Him: im not a jealous person
Him: im VERY trusting
Me: I wouldn't say this is a jealousy issue haha
Him: well you asked, i answered
Him: and to be fair, we dont even know each other
Him: i dont know what else to tell you
Me: you don't have to tell me anything
Me: I am just telling you that it makes me uncomfortable
Me: and you can do what you want with that
Him: and i am just telling you that ive tried to change it multiple times
Me: okay
Him: think about it.
Him: if i WAS in a relationship and i still wanted to meet with you, why would i leave it up?

I could think of many reasons. All involving a girlfriend. I decided that too much didn't add up and mentally gave him a week to change his status.

To this day he is listed as in a relationship. I hope they're happy!