the daily snivel

As mentioned earlier, I thought I would come clean and share some of my insights in the strange world of on-line dating. Since it's St. Valentine's Day, I can't think of a better time to bare my soul.

Now, once upon a time, before starting on that electronic path, I actually asked a particularly hip colleague out, and we went on a fabulous date. I don't really have any problems asking someone out if I'm attracted to them (and think that they might feel something similar towards me). Unfortunately, the evening culminated in me crossing over from flirtation to an overwhelming sense that I'd met the girl of my dreams, what with all the fun and dancing and beer we'd had, and as I leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek, she bent away, limbo style, to avoid any contact with my lips. I'd moved too quickly, and though we agreed to try again when I admitted I should move much more slowly, the dating experiment ended with us as being just cool friends. Which is probably as well, as we do have completely different romantic styles, and I'm extremely happy to have an awesome gal pal who is in so many other ways on the same level as I am. We have excellent banter.

So, like many others in this great big lonely society of ours, I decided to give on-line dating a try. I'm going to assume for the moment that you're willing to forsake judgment. Like masturbation or putting ketchup on your Kraft Dinner, it's something that a lot of people do and most people are ashamed to admit. This shared shame is highly validating. I've discovered more than one fellow lonesome law student out in this frontier. We're lonely, we're busy, and we only get to mingle with other law students. The on-line thing keeps you completely isolated from social awkwardness (such as having to bump into one another) if things go wrong, gossipy friends, and the horrendous bar scene. That said, I have decided that it ultimately isn't my bag. But let me tell you a bit about the people I met before I tell you why I'm opting to fumble through my days single and woefully undersmooched, rather than try to sit through more coffee and cake and exploratory conversations with attractive young women who are basically rather nice.

Bachelorette Number One:

I'm going to call her "JR". I met her in the Spring of 2003. She was a little older than me, at 33, with long, red hair, glasses, and an alluring, indie style complete with irresistably nerdy sensibilities. I was drawn to her profile because she could spell (unlike so very many others), and especially because she so eloquently described herself and who she wanted to meet. She had stated her preference for left-of-centre men with intelligence, independence, the ability to think critically, and share in things like vegetarian cuisine, independent films, drinking fair trade coffee at downtown coffee shops, and discussing politics and great books. She was an anti-poverty activist and a professional massage therapist, and she was extremely well-connected and knew a lot of interesting people, including some old, long-lost friends of mine. All in all, JR was a fascinating person to spend time with.

Our first date was spent sharing coffee and cake at a downtown dessert shop, and as it turned out we got along tremendously well. We talked about her experiences as an advocate and activist, and my time so far at law school and what I hoped to do for society when I'd earned my degree and been called to the Bar. I'd brought some Godiva chocolate and bath bombs as part of my attempt to woo her, as it came out that she enjoyed luxurious baths and I wanted to make a good impression. Our date ended with a friendly hug, and plans to get together again.

The night of our first kiss, JR and I went out and enjoyed several rounds of cider at my university haunt, the Royal Oak pub on Laurier Avenue. She'd had a meeting to attend on the University of Ottawa campus, so I got a bit more of an introduction to her world as we discussed what had gone on during her anti-poverty committee meeting, and chatted with a few other participants. I was even able to introduce her to a couple of friends who'd shown up after (indoor) soccer practice for a refreshing round of drinks. As the evening flowed onwards and the chemistry grew, JR expressed her attraction with gentle touches and quick scratches on the back whenever she got up from the table. It was a nice feeling to flirt and be flirted with.

At the end of the evening, JR and I walked to the bus stop, and she recounted to me an atrocious tale that was stirring up a lot of attention in anti-poverty circles. A homeless man had entered a posh new luxury highrise apartment building at the end of Laurier that was under construction in order to escape the bitter February cold and, while attempting to climb to a floor that was heated, fell down an elevator shaft to his death. Every time I see that completed building now, filled as it is with nobby people and their little dogs, I feel extremely humble (and hopeful that there are such things as ghosts). It was something I hadn't been aware of. I don't recall it being reported, and I'm usually something of a news glutton. It was saddening to hear about, but I confess that I found her articulate passion for social justice issues quite inspiring. I felt that she was someone who might one day change things for the better.

As we shivered in the bus shelter, waiting for the bus we were both planning on taking to get to our respective destinations, JR told me what a good time she'd had that night, and leaned in close for a hug so that we could say goodnight without having to awkwardly do so on the bus. Coyly, she wondered aloud whether I was ready to kiss her? Admittedly, I'd been somewhat shy on the issue. After my puckered lips had ruined one lovely date with a certain law student of my dreams earlier in the year, I wasn't about to rush into smooching again. But I was ready to kiss JR, and so I leaned in. Now, it's sort of a given to say that (as a girl and all) her lips were soft, moist, and gentle against my own, but what more wonderful feeling is there than a first kiss? It's a delicious sensation to lean in and meet lips with just that hint of gentle trepidation, only to become bolder after that initial smooch and kiss again more forcefully and passionately, and then kiss again, opening mouths ever so slightly to allow the briefest touching of tongues in an expression of attraction and desire. Then we got on the bus, sat quietly together as though nothing had happened, and said goodnight when I reached my stop.

JR was actually a professional massage therapist (on top of working any number of paid and volunteer jobs helping to save the world in various ways throughout the week), so something she really liked after a long day was receiving a good massage. Since I'd boasted about the spine-melting power of my famous "big monkey hands," my next date with JR involved me giving her a proper massage, in stages. It started with her feet. If I could make them feel relaxed and happy, I could graduate to work on her neck and shoulders. I took the whole thing as kind of a sexy challenge -- apparently not many men can give really great massages (especially so as to meet the exacting standards of a professional) so, like any keener, I was understandably eager to prove how very amazing I was. JR wore a loose, comfortable dress, and gave me some oil. Her downtown apartment, which I'd only seen for the first time a few minutes before, was comfortable and funky, filled with art by friends and the fruits of intriguing projects (like protest banners).

The one thing I'll say about JR that surprised me was that she was the first woman I'd ever dated who didn't shave her legs. I discovered this as I massaged her feet, though it didn't really bother me. In fact, I've long maintained that shaving is a fairly arbitrary ritual of femininity, and that I would be equally attracted to anybody who refused to play that way, so long as she wasn't hairier than me. And I still feel that way. A woman who doesn't shave her legs or underarms is still naturally soft, smooth, and beautiful. So anyway, I gave a very lovely massage that JR really appreciated, and she then let me massage her neck, shoulders and back. Later that night, I went out with her to help a friend move a large number of paintings at the Green Door (a local vegetarian restaurant that displays and sells paintings by local artists), and we all came back to watch the Fight Club DVD that JR had just bought. I'd only seen the movie once before (and loved it), so it was nice to watch it again, especially snuggled up with a cool gal. That night, I got the song "Where is my mind?" (by the Pixies) stuck in my head, as it is painfully catchy and plays a big role in the movie, so I simply had to find it and add it to my music collection. That song always makes me think of that night.

So, what happened to this fun series of dates? Well, you see, law school happened. Many's the lonely person who has to wait on a boyfriend or girlfriend, husband or wife, who goes to law school and spends insane amounts of time in classes, court, and the library. JR was made unhappy by the fact that I could only see her once a week, and was frequently preoccupied with my studies. I must have seemed extremely physically unavailable, and she did want something fairly serious in her life. I simply wasn't in the emotional or practical position to provide that. So, one day she called me up on the phone and told me she wanted to give all her time and affection to just one man in her life exclusively.
Pow.

I was a little surprised but also a little relieved. I really didn't have the time or emotional energy to give her exactly what she needed. So, that was that. She told me a kind lie about being in touch soon, and we never spoke again.

Bachelorette Number Two:

A perfectly nice gal. Smart, witty, well-traveled, well-dressed, educated, and with excellent taste in music. I could look past her lazy eye, really I could. That's not the sort of thing that would deter me from being attracted to someone. But the cellular phone was another matter entirely. I could never love someone who thinks they need a cell phone.

I am, of course, being facetious.

To get into the details, I'll say that I met Bachelorette Number Two at the end of the school year last April. I was incredibly flattered by the fact that she sought me out pretty quickly after I'd returned to the on-line dating world following a lengthy hiatus. My profile intrigued her, because she too was wry, well-read, in love with a wide variety of music, and a big fan of coffee, museums, and chatting over pints. She worked for the government and had traveled all over the world, and had lived in places I only know of because their national cuisine is at least notionally represented by restaurants I've tried. She didn't have a profile photo but since a good brain is a much more important determinant of attraction for me, I was fine to leave a bit of mystery in the air (though I confess I nerdily "googled" her name in an attempt to find out just a wisp more).

For all these reasons and more, I was certainly interested in getting to know this young woman better, and she was keen to learn more about me. We began sending messages to one another once or twice a day, and once again I experienced that thrilling sensation of looking forward to hearing every bit of news from a fascinating person. We both checked our e-mail accounts throughout the day in the hope of hearing from the other. Of course, this only illustrated another difficulty in the transition from on-line flirtation to real-life dating: chemistry. In exchanging e-mails, it turned out that Bachelorette Number Two and I had a fair bit in common, in terms of the books we liked, our musical preferences, mutual love for Thai cuisine, and a passion for learning. She even pointed out a fabulous Radiohead song I had never heard of before, entitled True Love Waits. Honestly, this is one of their best songs ever (aside: because this song has never been released, and is available, to my knowledge, only as a bootleg recorded live at a concert, I did download it from the internet. I mention this in way of fair disclosure, because I've gone on the record before as being indisposed to steal music by downloading songs instead of buying them).

The biggest difference in our worldviews concerned hockey. I've never been a fan of watching sports, but Bachelorette Number Two (like many Canadians) was a tremendous hockey nut. The two dates we had took place during the NHL playoffs, when the local sports team (The Ottawa Senators) were battling it out and doing quite well. We even spent the second half of one date watching the game in a bar over pints. I learned an awful lot about hockey.

Ultimately, we had two fairly nice dates. Lots of walking about town in the lovely slushy weather of early spring, lots of conversation, quite a few pints, and some very nice tom yum soup. But in real life, we didn't really connect. We were both pretty attractive people, and interesting conversationalists with a host of adventures to share, but it's funny how that isn't necessarily enough. We both recognized it by the end of the second date, and talked about it as she drove me home. Maybe it was the cell phone. Or maybe it was how little I knew about hockey. But there was just no spark. This, I learned, was one of the most befuddling aspects of on-line dating. Even the attraction and fascination (indeed, the intoxicating infatuation) you feel while chatting with a delightful new person doesn't guarantee actual attraction. There can still be awkward silences. There can still be a moment where your entire romantic life flashes before your eyes and you wonder why this feels nothing like the last time you felt yourself falling in love (or even the lesser feeling of tipsily stumbling into the arms of someone who'll do for the night). There can still be the painful hope lingering in the back of your mind that the the other person doesn't try to kiss you. There was, again, a strong sense of relief for me when I learned that my date wasn't interested in me, either.

Still, I suppose I hadn't learned any lessons about the value of being alone and enjoying one's own company, because I went ahead and met someone else anyway.

Bachelorette Number Three:

I keep wanting to point out that these people were, in fact, really nice before I talk about why I don't want to see them again. Bachelorette Number Three was really, really nice. She actually sought me out based on my witty profile (which you can read below).

Bachelorette Number Three worked for Chapters, which is a large chain of bafflingly big Canadian book stores that also feature coffee and cyber-cafés. The stores are not unlike Borders in the United States. Anyway, she knew a lot about books and could spin an amusing yarn or two about working in the service industry. Her profile picture featured her in a cute devil costume with a mischievous smile, and she piqued my interest by referring to some aspect of my profile where I mention the joys of fooling around while watching "Trading Spaces," and stating that she also thought cuddling should be an olympic sport.

So, again a modest hail of e-mail messages flew back and forth over the space of a week or so, and we agreed to meet somewhere for coffee and cake (what date was ever a complete failure so long as it included cake?) just before the end of my April exams. Surprisingly, after everything I had learned about the mysteries and hazards of on-line dating, I really thought I was ready for this one. I knew that chemistry translated differently in real life than it did in text on a screen, and I knew that one should keep expectations simple, have an escape plan in case things went horribly wrong, and have clean underwear (when is it ever a bad idea to wear clean underwear?). Nevertheless, I was nervous as I climbed the steps of that coffee shop to the front door. I knew I really had no idea what awaited me. I knew I probably wasn't walking straight into destiny, or romance, or even a romantic comedy. In fact, I had a pretty bad feeling about the whole thing. Whether or not Bachelorette Number Three and I were ultimately irresistably drawn to one another, I think I'd started to have second thoughts about all this dating. I'd only been single for a few months, and was still dealing with the difficulties of my breakup with Mélanie. I didn't have a lot of time, and I didn't have a lot of money, and I think I was simply excited about the flirtation I was engaging in, and the reveling in the enticing possibilities that flow from meeting someone new and distracting.

Luckily, this date was a disaster.

OK, disaster is a harsh way of putting it. But I felt dodgy before I even stepped into the coffee shop, and as soon as I saw Bachelorette Number Three at her table, she looked up from her knitting and shot me a smile that did not reassure me in the least. I can't exactly say why, but the date was over before I even sat down. I did sit down, however, and we introduced ourselves to each other, I ordered a very large, very strong coffee that could only fit in a bowl, and we shared a piece of cake. And we talked. It wasn't as though Bachelorette Number Three wasn't amusing and well-spoken, but the conversation never branched far beyond my classes and her job. That's pretty much what we talked about for two hours. We did not interest each other enough to share much more.

And she had this laugh.

She had this laugh, like the character "Pat" from Saturday Night Live sketches in the early 1990s. It was kind of a forcible, drawn out, high-pitched groan that set me on edge. And she laughed a lot. Maybe she was nervous, or maybe I was extremely funny, but it was not an endearing sound. I've been dancing around the point, and I do hate to say it, but this was the first time in my misadventures in on-line dating that I was not even remotely attracted to the person I was out with, in either a physical or a mental sense. Unfortunately, this probably meant I was tense and guarded, and could only contribute to the sense that the date was quickly running out of steam. But I ultimately told a kind lie about needing to go home and study, and we said goodbye without so much as a handshake.

Bachelorette Number Four:

After my third misadventure, I didn't even look at an on-line dating site, or even think about asking a girl out, for several months. Instead, I focused on my real priorities. I was helping Mélanie, my dear friend and ex-girlfriend, with her depression, working a full-time job, and trying to see my friends, as well as cycling daily in a quest to get into better shape. It wasn't until August 2003, as the summer was winding down and school began to appear on the horizon, that my thoughts again turned to the possibility of changing my life a little bit and meeting someone new.

Bachelorette Number Four caught my attention because she was a silly, sarcastic, brilliant young woman who had a lot of ambition and was looking for something new but not overwhelming, just as I was. She was a medical student, so she had a connection to the nutty world of being a professional student just like I did. She was also based in another city, and she was as busy as I was, which meant that we'd have to take things slow even if we really did hit it off (do you see a theme with me? It's "Caution"). Bachelorette Number Four was refreshingly irreverent and had a lot of non-traditional views, and she was also beautiful. Compared to me, she was tiny, as she was under five feet tall, and weighed perhaps 100 pounds, but she had lovely, straight black hair and a wonderful complexion, and a striking smile. She was brilliant, too, and was intrigued by the fact that I was equally witty and didn't find her intelligence and ambition the slightest bit intimidating. When we began corresponding, she was out of the country and not always near a computer, so things were spaced out comfortably at first, and as we became more comfortable with one another (and she returned to Canada) the messages became longer and more frequent.

When we finally agreed to meet, I was really excited. I confessed that I was meeting this person to a dear friend while we relaxed at a diner one night, and described her a bit and why I thought she was going to be such a nifty girl/friend. And that's when the next pitfall of on-line dating smacked me in the face. It's a small world.. Someone in your circle is going to know your new date, either in person or by reputation, and this is probably going to colour your first impression when you finally meet them. As it turned out, my friend knew this final Bachelorette by reputation. In fact, what my friend did was grab my hand and shake her head emphatically and shout "Oh, no no no no no no no!" at me while the blood drained out of my face and I wondered what on earth I'd gotten myself into. It almost caused a scene right there at the restaurant.

So, we talked about my new internet friend for a bit. There were only so many details, and everything I was told was (as they say in law school) just hearsay, but I respected my friend's opinion and wanted to know why she was so concerned. In hindsight, I concluded that sometimes people just don't get along and they remember the negative traits more than the positive ones. And those stories get passed along and suddenly the girl I'd been flirting with through e-mail came off sounding a little bit mean.

This did not deter me from meeting her. We did get along quite well via e-mail, and I'm a firm believer in giving people the very fullest benefit of the doubt (it's why I'm going to be a criminal lawyer, right?). And even my friends wished me well and hoped that what their various experiences wouldn't be the case for me. We met for coffee and cake, which never loses its charm in my reckoning, and anyway I figured anyone who likes cake as much as I did can't be all bad (and she really, really liked cake).

The sad thing about our date was that I think the negative things I'd heard put me on guard more than I needed to be, and I was a lot more defensive than I might otherwise have been. So, a few hours down the road, when my date harangued me about the fact that I'd never traveled anywhere in my life because of what a big part of her life traveling was, and in fact said to me "You're a liar if you tell me that you can't find the time and money to travel somewhere," I felt my blood boil. Instead of being good natured, I tartly responded that I did not have parents who could afford to subsidize my education in any way; that in fact I came from poverty, and I'd had Thanksgivings when we ate muffin mix baked with water because that was all that was in the house, and everything I had was debt mixed in with badly needed jobs in the summer and badly needed part-time jobs in the school year, and no, I did not feel like I could spend either time or money on an escape to some other part of the world just now.

Now, we worked through that stumbling point, and talked and hung out for a couple of hours longer while doing pleasant things strolling downtown and going lingerie shopping for her friend's bridal shower, but I felt I had been judged quite negatively by an extremely arbitrary standard, and when I wrote Bachelorette Number Four an e-mail a day or two later about my thoughts, I said so. I said that I'd had a good time, and was glad to have met her, but confessed that I felt distinctly cornered when she told me how important travel was to her and how I felt I was being belittled for the fact that I'd never left North America.

I never did hear from her again after that. I guess we were both disappointed in each other's reactions. I hope she met somebody more compatible, though, I really do.

I hope they all did.

Rob's conclusions about on-line dating:

I've tried my luck on two different and popular systems -- www.lavalife.com and personals.salon.com (part of a connected aggregate of sister sites managed by the central Spring Street Networks, with related and connected portals on The Onion site, Television Without Pity, and many more).


Here's what all those young ladies had to put up with for their part. Click on the screenshot to view a full copy of my on-line dating profile:



As I said initially, I've decided to retire from the crazy on-line dating scene for now, and possibly for good. It is a difficult way to discover meaningful details about new people, especially given how grammatically impoverished most of these bachelors and bachelorettes are. There's something monstrous about using internet slang and a pocketful of crippled sentences to describe oneself and the ideal characteristics one is looking for in a medium where text is the only possible form of communication. I have no doubt that a lot of people do find happiness and meaningful relationships through these systems -- after all, they're very popular and increasingly socially acceptable. There's a massive feeling of disconnection in this big, disaffected world, and so I'm no foe of people coming together, however they manage to do it.

But here I am, still wary and still single, and not that upset about it. I guess I've decided that there are worse things than being alone. I covet my spare time, and I don't want to share it with someone else just because I'm scared of dying alone. I'm not. The day I know I'm smitten is the day I meet someone I want to share my jealously guarded time with.

To that end, this Valentine's Day, I got to spend time with some very good friends, and I made the most of this dubiously couples-intensive holiday by taking it back for all the lonely losers out there. I gave everyone at school a valentine card (those wonderful, pun-filled cards that you have to punch out -- my favourite had a picture of a dinosaur on it and said "I think you're terror-ific!") and chocolates, just like people did when they were in grade four. Instead of feeling sorry for myself, I made a lot of people smile. I also went to a smashing masquerade party, danced a lot, drank a lot, and laughed a lot.

So who can call that an unhappy Valentine's Day?

Feel free to share your thoughts.