Sometimes I take things a little too far. Okay, a lot of times I take things too far.
One night I waited under my sister’s bed for 30 minutes before I popped out and scared the bejesus out of her. Another time, I stole my friend’s apartment key and almost gave her a heart attack when I snuck in at 2 a.m. Please don’t think I’m creepy. If anything, I’m just easily entertained.
My last class assignment fall quarter proved no exception to these extreme tendencies. The paper topic was a broad one. Basically, we had to write an article on a subject of general interest. I chose online dating.
This may sound completely random. But my decision was based solely on the fact that I came across some cool-sounding interracial dating websites. AfroRomance.com? Who wouldn’t want to know more about that? I definitely did. And this, my friends, is how I came to make an online dating profile.
Like with all my great ideas, I was watching “So You Think You Can Dance” when the thought struck me. I guess I get inspired by all the beautiful movements my body will never be able to make unless I dislocate or break certain bones … who knows?
Regardless, I navigated my way over to Afro Romance and did some preliminary research. The site bragged of its ability “To find your interracial partner!” and proclaimed it a place, “Where love is more than skin deep.” Say no more. I was hooked.
I created the somewhat generic username of MandaGirl and wrote a self description to blow the minds of all that read it:
“I am blonde, blue-eyed, and ‘tall for a girl’. Whatever that means. I’m a senior in college, and dreading either being spit out into the real world of limited job opportunity and/or living at my parents’ house again. Please don’t judge my cynical description; I swear I’m really a catch.” I was going for the kill. Or profile hits I guess.
The dating questionnaire I was required to fill out probed the inner depths of my soul. Never had I been asked to state my zodiac sign and eye color in the same survey. I felt so exposed.
Part of me hoped they’d ask for my criminal record. Not because I have one. But others might, right? Instead, they wanted to know if I preferred a cabin in the woods to an apartment in the city. I’m guessing this was their subtle way of weeding out maniacs. Obviously, the serial killers pick “cabin in the woods.”
After completing the required questionnaire, I was finally allowed to peruse potential partners. Afro Romance attempted to make my life a little easier by pulling up suggestions. Othello951, BrotherBlue, and NotUrAvgMale were just some of the references. Apparently, we shared some commonalities. I’m guessing they also watch “So You Think You Can Dance”?
I refreshed my profile page to discover that I had 45 profile views in those five minutes. A reasonable amount, I thought. Another page refresh showed 53. Another got me my first e-mail. The confident young gentleman’s name was CandyCane7in. I like to think it meant he was formerly Santa’s helper. But interpret as you will.
His message was almost Shakespearian. “I want a girl that’s smart and beautiful with a sense of humor and don’t have a stink attitude,” he explained. “I also like a girl that can take care of herself physical.” I guess I fit the mold.
I neglected to respond to his e-mail. Perhaps I was afraid of the chemistry we had. More likely, because this was merely a twisted social experiment and I have no desire to date online. I guess I’ll never truly know for sure.
I continued my site investigation for maybe another hour but after 30 instant message requests from my CandyCane7in, I decided it was time to end my cyber adventure. I quickly responded to my online lover with “Sorry, I’m a diabetic,” and deactivated my account for good.
Personally, I like to think I did the cyber-dating world a service. CandyCane7in and all his sugary glory is still available and waiting for that lucky girl out there. And I can officially say that I was an online dater for five hours. Which is five hours more than I care to admit.
AMANDA HARDWICK can put you in touch with CandyCane7in if you like. E-mail her yo numba at email@example.com.