Archive for » January, 2009 «

Dear folks at Match.com,

Ok, you win.

I admit, way back in 2005 when my sister told me she was signing me up for your services, I was . . . let’s say skeptical. I had my preconceived notions about what type of people resort to online dating and I wasn’t in the market for an unemployed, middle-aged man who lives in his parents’ basement smoking pot and playing video games all day. Call me picky.

But my sister insisted that plenty of perfectly normal people search for love on Match.com and I was going to be one of them whether I liked it or not. She planned to create a profile for me if I wouldn’t make one myself. (Doesn’t that violate your terms of service? If not, it should.) Faced with the possibility of what my sister would write about me, I caved.

At first I was pretty confident that my expectations were accurate. Quite a few men twice my age “winked” at me and sent me illiterate sexual propositions. I recall one in particular who wrote, “Are you board tonite? I’m better than nothing.” Turns out I wasn’t “board.” I think he was though. Or at least he had wood.

Despite being a grammar snob with high standards, I managed to vet out a few gentlemen that I trusted enough to meet without unreasonable fear of becoming prey for an axe murderer. As I recall, one explained to me in detail about how his roommate was disrupting the feng shui of his apartment, and that his greatest sexual fantasy was for a woman to violate his anus while wearing a strap-on. Another suitor took me to a classy diner and told me the story of how he came home early to find another man in his live-in girlfriend. Pounding her ass, I think were his words. (What’s with your clients and anal sex?) When he lamented that in the heat of the moment he forgot that he had a gun and things could have gone differently, I decided the cuddly single dad wasn’t for me.

And then one day I received a wink from a guy who bore an uncanny resemblance to a prick I knew in high school. In fact, I wondered if he actually was my former classmate trolling the interwebs under an alias. (Wouldn’t that violate your terms of service? If not, it should.) I scrutinized his profile, eventually determining that it was just the one photo. Plus he had too much personality to be the person I thought he was. So, since I had already put so much time and effort into the mini-investigation, I sent back a message.

And he sent me one.

And I sent him another.

And so on and so on until we decided enough with the emails, let’s meet in person.

Our first date lasted four hours. Over dinner he coaxed me to tell all sorts of stories about my life and my job and listened to every word as if captivated. When the dishes were cleared away, he gave me some sort of compliment that made me blush and scrunch my nose. He ordered coffee instead of asking for the check. At midnight the restaurant closed and we headed out to our cars. When he tried to lean in for a good night kiss, I turned my cheek. He said nothing, just gently caressed my face. He got his kiss after all.

Two weeks later, he told me he loved me.

Almost three years later, he asked me to share his home.

A month ago he asked me to be his wife.

I’m sorry I doubted you Match.com. For $50 I got a man who cooks me dinners and smiles with a boyish grin, who holds me tight until he falls asleep and tickles me just to hear me laugh, who says “I love you” every day and always kisses me before he leaves for work. I got a man who doesn’t mind I’m not as pretty as the girls he was used to dating, and who says he fell in love with me because I scrunch my nose. I got a man who will one day become the father of my children.

I’d say that’s a bargain.

Thank you,
Stacey