My Encounter with Jabba the Hut

by Jack Parkinson.

Online dating seems to be shedding its taboo status in recent years; people are completely shameless in their pursuit of happiness. Advertisements for Match.com and the like are saturating television screens across the country. Despite the boom in online dating, there must be some experiences that put people off it forever. And yes, there are, one of which happened to myself in the mid winter of 2006, at the tender age of 18.

MySpace had been a cultural phenomenon, the first social networking website to accumulate an astronomical number of members. I had just signed up, and within a few days I had been added by a delightful looking creature. She added me, as she “liked my pictures”. The only picture I had of her however was the small thumbnail that graced her profile screen, and a very elegant picture it was: brunette, shocking blue eyes and a voluptuous curvature of the lips; this picture alone was justification for talking to her.

Over the course of a year we chatted online and still this was the only picture that kept me going. Our conversation was healthy, and we very much enjoyed each other’s digital company. There does however come a time when this alone is not sufficient, and the next step needed to be taken.

She invited me to her house, a very forward invitation I know, but I accepted. Winter can be a very lonely time for a young single man; this effectively quashed any negative thoughts that arose from my conscience. I had never met this girl before in my life, or even heard her voice. Unluckily for me, my shameless desperation succeeded.

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The Case of the Misplaced Kiss

by Caron.

As a transfer student at the University of Minnesota, I was always looking for ways to make new friends. I decided to take a Tae Kwon Do class where I could meet people while also tucking a new skill under my belt.

One of my girlfriends in another class of mine urged me to say hello to her friend “Bob.” I decided to wait until we were sparring each other so as not to seem to eager.

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GETTING THE BUM’S RUSH

by Anonymous.

The date was going pretty well thus far. My partner had not yet screamed at the sight of me and run off into the night (always a good first indicator) and here we were, moving on to our second venue of the evening.

I had one problem: this girl was a Christian. The reason this was a problem was twofold. One, she was highly unlikely to let me get my hands on her sumptuously gigantic breasts at the end of the evening, no matter how well I thought the situation was progressing; and two, she didn’t drink alcohol.

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Red Eyed Monster

by Patricia Pazsint.

I thought I had seen it all. During my years of on-again, off-again online dating, I felt as if I had earned an honorary phD in dating psychology (or should I say a purple heart?). The upfront-leech, the alcohol-pushing leech, mama’s boy, social odd-ball, bitter misogynist, you name it, I’ve dated it. Albeit not for long.

“Tony” had seemed charming on the phone, and his Match.com profile seemed refreshingly honest. The photos were obviously scanned in, the quality of which wasn’t the best, but he had a full head of hair, warm smile, and an athletic physique. A sales manager at a high volume sales firm, he regaled me with stories of a quick ascension up the career ladder and remodeling his home no expenses spared. Having dated a career pothead in college for a year and a half whose idea of planning for the future meant having enough money left for the next stash, Tony impressed me thoroughly.

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Exes and Their Text Messages

by SGLoughlin.

“I dated a guy who was a bit of a handful. His emotional stability varied hour by hour and often swung wildly between loving euphoria and numbed depression. We broke up, got back together, broke up, got back together ad nauseam for more than a year and a half. It only recently ended when I received several text messages asking for my hand in marriage.

“Taking new course, trying somethin new. Marry me. I love u, want 2 be with u 4ever.” Sent 6/22/08 at 3:32 A.M.

My response:

“Um. How is that helpful? We can’t even talk without fighting.” Sent 6/22/08 at 9:15 A.M.

His response:

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Importance of Being Earnest…

by Veronica Bell.

Importance of Being Earnest… or at least the importance of using proper table manners as a way to get the date off to a good solid start.

I happened to be in Chicago this weekend for a writers workshop at Second City. While I was there I wanted to play around downtown. Shopping and running around the beach are not occasions where a play date is absolutely necessary but for dinner, I require company.

Its far too depressing to think I would have to eat alone, ordering room service while I am trying to enjoy a new city.

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Expelled from Match.com! How to Get Tossed Off the Popular On-line Dating Site

by Allen Smith.

Anyone who’s dipped their toes into the murky waters of the on-line dating scene will sprint away from the tide after learning that while there are plenty of fish in the sea, there are also plenty of nets. While learning about how the seamy underbelly of electronic dating is really manipulated, this investigative journalist found himself expelled from Match.com after going deep undercover into the popular Internet dating service.

I enrolled at Match.com using the pen name of “MrMarvelous” to judge the waters for myself. After blowing off an entire day’s work perusing the women within 100 miles of my zip code, seven major metropolises and all of the neighborhoods I’ve ever lived, it became readily apparent that of the 40 million single men and women who subscribe to on-line dating services, most are looking for the same thing and their profiles all read the same. So, to leverage myself against my male competitors and attract more than my fair share of the lovelier sex, I decided to create the following original member profile to flaunt my rapier wit. After all, isn’t that what women want: a man with a sense of humor?

Dating headline:
Tom Selleck Look-a-like In Search of Love

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So I Dated a Serial Texter…

by Liza Keyne.

As a 28 year old living in Chicago, I admit that I absolutely use text messaging to communicate with friends, family, and co-workers. For me, texting is great for sending and receiving short messages to and from people I already know. It’s perfect for corresponding with basic questions: where are you, what time are you picking me up, who is this weirdo that is talking to me, how did I get home last night? It’s also ideal for sharing funny moments that aren’t worthy of a full conversation; such as, “You will not believe that hot tranny mess I just saw on Belmont and Halsted.” Believe me; I have been swept up in this texting whirlwind. It wasn’t until recently that I discovered how much texting has slithered its way into the dating world. It seems that out of nowhere, text messaging has somehow become a dating norm. It got me thinking: when did text messaging take over for a good old fashioned relationship?

I recently dated a guy who we’ll call “Mr. Text,” who used text messaging as his primary form of communication. Mr. Text truly lived up to his name: he was aloof, brief, and hard to understand at times.

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Most Bizarre First Date

by Ye Xiaoyu.

Charles was one of those friends like dried meat; he will last forever if you keep it right. It was no wonder that when I told him I was back in the city he excitedly invited me to his birthday party. I had really wanted to finally meet his fiancé. The day he asked me I was sitting in my room, naked as usual, and made a decision right there. The path to recovery meant getting out and continuing my life where it left off.

The meal was uneventful except for Charles who ate a 32 oz steak single handedly after demolishing the appetizers. Charles was always this excited guy and the fact that he had not slept more than 3 hours in 3 days meant he was manic. His constant aerobic demonstrations made the rest of us who were out of shape and well rested feel jealous. Afterwards we ended up in his place, with me ignoring many phone calls wondering when I would get home.

We broke into two splinter groups, one that enjoyed World of Warcraft far too much and the rest of the people trying to be social by talking over Resistance: The Fall of Man as we passed the controller amongst ourselves. Charles and me started talking and eventually the topic returned to my current ‘funk’ as I describe it that way at most three times a month. “Man, you aren’t doing well” he said. I did not respond, I was tired of hearing myself say it. “How about I find you a girl?” he suggested. I laughed, probably a second too long judging by his reaction. “Maybe you should, all I know is that I’m oscillating between horny as hell and depressed.” I said. I picked up the beer bottle and took a long drink from it. Charles had that concerned look on his face. “You’re taking this pretty hard aren’t you?” he said in that slow tone that was unusual for him. I did not want to say anything, and I did not have to.

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Vodka Honey, Straight Up

by Leora Klein.(edited by Alix Strauss)

Dan sounded great on paper: Upper East Side, Fieldston, Brown undergrad, NYU Law, formerly a corporate lawyer, currently a CEO of a nonprofit that seeks to foster peace between Palestinian and Israeli children…My mother met his mother at a charity dinner. Seated next to each other, nibbling on raisin nut rolls, patiently waiting for their salad plates to be whisked away, they noticed that neither woman ate the shaved fennel. By the time the blackened sea bass was served they were dear friends. She didn’t wait for dessert to show my mother a photograph of her son, and my mother called me from the car on her way home to tell me the great news.

“She had a photograph of her son in her evening bag?”

“Actually, she had it on her cell phone, and he looked very handsome with a nice head of hair.”

“Did you inquire about his height?” I am 5’9″.

“I did and she said he was taller than her husband, and her husband was tall.”

He sounded too perfect. My mother always taught me perfect doesn’t exist.

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