Of Modems, Men, and Morocco

I’ll say it: I HATE being single! Don’t get me wrong…I like ‘singlehood’…but the whole single mentality is just not for me.

I do fine on my own…I make a terrific salary working for a tech giant as a system administrator, within 10 minutes of my 910 square feet of apartment are a wide variety of upscale retail shops at my disposal and who are too willing to keep me in the latest trends, and I have friends (even the nowadays obligatory gay buddy!) who can share times out or ‘Sex and the City’ on Sundays. I L-O-V-E that part of my life.

Nonetheless, I like having A boyfriend. A: Single: One: Solo: One-and-only: My ‘special’ friend. I KNOW it’s not fashionable, but far be it from me to stay with convention where the heart is concerned. Don’t EVEN try to tell me, for those indignant single women out there who are already telling me I’ve taken the women’s movement back to the days of June Cleaver, that you don’t occasionally wish for that blissful state of couplehood: There’s something about picking up the phone, hearing THAT voice…watching a cheesy 80’s movie curled up on the couch with THAT person…reading over bring home work with your head in the lap of a wonderful man who brought home Chinese food because he knew you’d be too tired to cook. Now be honest: Doesn’t that just make "down time" amazing. I have yet to meet a woman who doesn’t experience the giddy adrenaline rush of seeing a flower delivery van pull up to your office, and you actually have that glorious moment of anticipation that it really MIGHT be for you. (It probably isn’t…but at least you have a reason to hope.) I challenge any woman worth her Jimmy Choo’s not to admit to relishing that part of couplehood.

What I HATE about being single is this whole dating ritual that we have to go through in order to achieve the state of ‘couplehood.’ I consider myself a serial dater. Annette Benning said it best in ‘The American President,’ ‘Lately, I seem to be going out on a lot of first dates.’ How I meet most of these men I will get to shortly, but let me suffice to say that as I’ve gotten older, I’ve either gotten choosier or men have just gotten…different. I’m going with a combination of both. At 24: Cute Butt, job with no name tag, lives with a group of guys instead of parents: SCORE! At 34: Has a butt, Job with no ‘pending IPO stock options,’ doesn’t live with a group of guys or the ex while working out ‘financial matters’: Well… I’m free for lunch. A short one. I have a meeting at 1 p.m. And I have to prep for it.

I was officially thrust back into the dating jungle on May 23, 2000, when my divorce became final. Having managed to stay with one man for 7 years, I wasn’t prepared for just how rusty the ol’ dating skills had become. And, having learned a few things between Meeting Husband and Divorcing Husband, I seem to have forgotten that, as a general rule, dating SUCKS!

OH, BUT I CAN HEAR IT NOW: "You should appreciate your singlehood." And trust me, I do. It helps that I am of age in an era where single women aren’t stigmatized or looked at with veiled curiosity. And I really I like having my independence. Having worked hard to achieve it, during marriage, where you’ve got a partner to pick up the slack, and the divorce, where you are thrown into a whirlwind of upset with emotions, finances, lifestyle change, etc., I don’t intend to give up that prize or modify it so easily.

Yet, I began dating. But this time around, I had three pools I refused to dip from: Work, my friends, or ‘singles mixers.’ Worked with my ex…BAD idea. My friends…’He’s single and the bankruptcy has been discharged…you guys need to hook up!’ Singles Mixers…Yeah; if I’m 70!!! I had limited my options, true…but betwixt Meeting Husband and Divorcing Husband, something new happened onto the singles scene: Internet Personals.

I know what you’re thinking: Those guys are perverts! Internet Personals are for desperate people! Gee, www.loser.com…where do I sign up! Actually, I just investigated it as a curiosity, to see what men were looking for. After spending hours in complete fascination, I decided to take a crack at this and post my own personal. Seemed reasonable. I could check for things like literacy, technical competence, and photogenic capacity without having to go to the trouble of getting primped and preened to search the singles prairie of the greater Kansas City, Mo., Metro area.

I had spent over a year meeting MANY people this way, and have used several services. I usually went on a minimum of one date a week, with a few periods where there was just one person and a bona-fide, just- for-grins-call-it-a, relationship, and the personal went off-line. (Until it eventually got to the point where he turned from ‘Mr. Right’ to ‘Mr. Got-on-my-last-nerve.’ )

My most recent foray began at the end of February of this year. I was determined that I was going to play the field…make the most of singlehood…go on the ‘free dinner and drinks’ regimen my male co-workers suspected I was exploiting. I signed up with two services, one being ‘Love@aol.’ I had good success with them and really like their approach to allowing you to carefully construct your cyber-psyche in the most convenient manner possible.

July 16, 2001. I am spending my lunch hour on a hot, Missouri day, taking advantages of the perks of super hi-speed Internet access to check my email from AOL. I had no idea what in the world caused some very strange e-mail messages in my in-box. Plus, I had been seeing one man regularly, and we were as exclusive as you can be without actually bringing up the subject. Frankly, I had forgotten about that ad, and thought I should go through and at least send the perfunctory ‘Thanks, but no thanks. I’ve met someone,’ response before I deleted it.

I type in http://www.love.com…DEAR SWEET MOTHER OF GOD! I’m Personal of the Week! To my complete and utter horror, my mug and a very complimentary blurb about me was posted on their homepage as a sample of the many available singles looking for love along the digital hiways and byways of our newly connected society.

How I got this ‘honor,’ I’ll never know. However, that fine print my father always insisted I read must have noted this when I submitted it in the first place to include that AOL could use your personal and pic for ‘promotional purposes.’ Aside from the dismay of realizing I’m now a nationally advertised single person, my hair looked orange in the picture! And I always wanted my 15 minutes of fame to be something my parents would brag to their friends about: Let’s face it, Daddy telling his buddies that ‘Hey, didja see my little girl? She’s at www.dateless.com,’ just doesn’t carry the same reverence as ‘My daughter just developed a new code to irradicate all e-mail viruses.’ Little did I know that I was about to have my entire e-dating world thrown asunder by some perceptive (or downright mean) staffers at AOL.

As a single woman, I find that I am constantly amazed by the bouillabaisse of available people wanting to make a connection to the Internet. And for those of you who envision a subculture of the strange, perverted and weird, I have to say that I have found mingling this way a most positive experience. Granted, I’ve met a few VERY strange people. Overall, I am a champion of the Internet dating world. Where else, I ask you, could you meet and share food, drink and conversation with a physics professor, a former porn star, and an entrepreneur (all different men) in the same week. I guarantee you THAT crowd ain’t hanging around at the Barnes & Noble! So, I decided to relish this brief honor, and document my 15 minutes of pseudo fame. In this day and age of instant celebrity, I’m now a few whines shy of a Real World roommate, I figure!

July 16 - 25 responses. Wow…I’ve discovered that I am extremely popular with African men, as I have received 3 marriage proposals from that continent alone. There is also a German gentleman who, while I’m sure he’s extremely nice, wrote to me entirely in German. (A language I don’t speak.) While I’m sure the sentiment contained therein was genuine, I’m not entirely convinced he could actually understand what I wrote. I think orange hair must be a hit with German singles. Unfortunately, with 6 days to go, I think I will weigh my options. However, one man captured his love for me quite beautifully, albeit abruptly; ‘I look for you all my life. We must Marry. Love, Ajubar Jadani.’ All this BEFORE he’s seen my American Express bill!

July 17 - 37 responses. I’ve now appeared to reach my home shores. Several elderly gentlemen in Florida are bidding for my affections with talk of yachts, trips to corners of the globe, and promises of hair plug implants if that is my wish. I’ve also received 2 more marriage proposals from the African coast. I check websites to see what the affinity is over there for short, bottle blondes with a comprehension of UNIX and an encyclopedic knowledge of movies. I’ve also received a terse response from a former spurned pixilated Romeo as to why I was still looking…and an 18 year old who wanted my assistance in maximizing his sexual peak. I’m still two years shy of mine: Drat! OK…Well, I still have 5 days of hope. Color me the eternal optimist.

July 18 - 28 responses. The Middle East is calling. And one very bold Chinese man wanted to fly me over for Pot smoking and a threesome. I’m amazed how my cyber-self can sound the multi-cultural mating call, as today’s responses were all from lands other than the US. There was also one person who I’ve managed to assume either 1.) has a boat, or 2.) is a boat, as the attached photo was of a very small row boat. I’ve never been good at symbolism. I am also starting to suspect that my purported resemblance to Caroline Rae is doing me more harm than good. Need to write her and see if she’s more popular outside of our country’s borders.

July 19 – 33 Responses: Some freak with a love of iambic pentameter wrote me an incomprehensible love story; A Moroccan is sure I will love his country when I fly over to marry him; and a Brazilian is convinced I am his destiny. Now I believe that our foreign neighbors see Internet Personals as the American poster wall of the desperate and lonely. My self-esteem hasn’t suffered such crushing blows since my dress strap broke during my Senior Prom. I refuse to tell my mother she was right that this whole Net dating thing wouldn’t yield results! It’s NOT gonna happen. I do write a very nice message to a response from a British pilot, who promptly responded with a Naked photo of himself. Before I put him on permanent mail block, I did reply. My response: Nice Cessna.

July 20 - 25 responses: Well, my prowess has apparently and thankfully been contained within these shores…but, again. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME! A 20something with a desire for bondage, an ‘independently wealthy’ cad from Colorado, and a very witty man from St. Louis (SCORE…a Show Me Stater!) were among the throngs this Sunday. It’s not so much that they are inappropriate…but I’m frankly tired of rejecting so many otherwise, I’m sure, nice people. Just as I suspected, after carefully reviewing my ad again, not once does it say ‘If you have an psychological abnormalities, you may very well be the man I’ve waited for ALL MY LIFE.’

July 21 - 31 responses: I am thoroughly convinced that the U.S. educational system is in swift decline, and it’s heading on a worldwide bent.. I sign on to check my daily tally (I’ve long since given up the minor self-esteem boost many letters can give you…hard to feel Goddess-like in this environment when it’s plainly obvious that these respondents haven’t gotten ‘hooked on phonics’ yet.), and am inundated with boxes ‘Hi, you wanna chat,’ ‘Hey, great ad,’ or ‘Why haven’t you answered my email yet!?!’ My normally cheery nature has been severely tested with this, and I’m now a raving she-beast when the little box pops up. OK…so I’m tarnishing my crown as ‘dateless queen of the week.’ I am not amused.

And as quickly as it rose…the sun set on my week in the searching spotlight. To make matters even worse, the man I had been seeing and was frankly growing very tired of prior to my insta-fame was now more intrigued by his status of ‘the Love@aol girl’s boyfriend.’ Somewhere, I knew my ex-husband was behind this evil plot to bring to ruin my self esteem and my hopes at happiness. That or I really was on God’s bad side. Not enough to warrant eternal hell and damnation, just emotionally banal dating for the rest of my natural life.

The funny thing I realized as I was pouring over the heartfelt, widely varying responses was that I, at least, wasn’t alone. There’s a mindset that singlehood can sometimes dip you into: That you are the ONLY person out there without a satisfying relationship or the capability of actually forging one. It can seem like everyone else has the key to it and has decided to vote you off the island of love rather than clue you in on this wonder and mystery. Yes, even I, with a diverse city, wide array of matching shoes and handbags, and cosmopolitan friends at my fingertips, fall into that trap. Men from all over the world were feeling lonely and outcast from our stringently coupled world. I had a brethren: Not a dateable brethren, mind you. But, a brethren, nonetheless.

As I pondered this realization, I also realized it was Saturday night. And the evening was free. Uh Oh, better call Whosit and make plans. I MUST DATE…I MUST DATE…I Must…but that would mean getting out of my comfies, ironing something, the whole make-up ritual, forcing a Good Hair Night, and for nothing more than listening to him prattle on and on about…about…gee, that’s funny. I spent so much time being his date, it never occurred to me to ever listen to anything he said. Well, he’d prattle on about something, I’d feign interest, and try to make something entirely unworkable into something it would never be. There was much better fare on Lifetime TV, I was sure.

Suddenly, being single seemed a helluva lot more promising than even a free, moderately expensive meal and drinks on his dime. Worse yet…I realized it was WAY better having many options than being a couple with a man who I really didn’t want to listen to anything he had to say, short of ‘Fire’ if I was in the same building.

Oh, dear Lord: I PREFER BEING SINGLE…I REALLY LIKE IT!

Would I ever ‘couple’ again someday? I must honestly say, I don’t have an answer for it at this time. I think, if I found the right person who had the correct mix of all those qualities I find enchanting and wonderful and sexy, it could happen. But the key to successfully being single, I feel, is about is valuing the individual nature of ourselves. I don’t think I realized that until I saw how many other lonely people were out there looking for an answer in another person, myself included, when the fact of the matter was, the key to living a happy single life, or a happy coupled life, is cherishing what you value about yourself.

Another thing I figured out is that fixating on your singlehood only gives you one very small piece of the picture. Being part of a couple is so all-consuming to many that singles can easily forget to develop who they are. We seem to feel that, if there isn’t another carbon-based life form to ohh and ahh over a rainbow, it’s less enjoyable. But, if you are so bent on being a part of a couple at the sacrifice of your own enjoyment, you both are being cheated, no matter how beautiful the rainbow is. I am convinced being a happy single person beats being a miserable part of a couple any day of the week.

So, I’m back at being single, and my ad is still up. Thankfully, the responses are much more locally centered. And I’m spending my first dates with men who at least have the potential to become terrific friends. I’ve even met a few men in the real world, which is pretty good for a girl who spends so much time letting her modem do the flirting. But I now look back on my moment in the single-girl spotlight with a slight tinge of regret that I was so hasty to spurn just a short while ago. I probably could’ve learned some valuable insights from strangers to carry with me in my daily life. But what is life without a regret here and there…I think it keeps you on your toes to not let other experiences pass you by.

In this case, that is a shame; I hear Morocco is beautiful this time of year.