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It was now July, a few weeks since my date with Jim, the weed smoker who refused to split our dinner bill.
I knew matching algorithms weren’t perfect, but I kept dating and decided not to cancel my memberships with e Harmony, Match.com, and JDate.
The majority of dates I’d been going on weren’t horrible, they just weren’t great. I knew that if I spent enough time searching through each site and going out with a large enough group of men, I could increase the probability of my finding the right one.
And besides, even if I canceled, I knew how Internet marketing worked. Your black pants and black or gray top or whatever you’re wearing isn’t good for a first date.
All three services would continue to email me new profiles every day. Jeff Goldblum isn’t going to date someone who wears what you wear to work.” My date with Mench Tastic kept me preoccupied the rest of the day. I bet he has sexy hands—strong, veiny even, but soft.
I was sitting at my desk at work when sent me a similar reminder message, this time highlighting Mench Tastic, and his profile immediately grabbed my attention. I sat through a client meeting discussing the usability of a website, and all I could think about was his photo gallery. I looked at my watch more often than I should have, waiting for the meeting to end.
He was 33, was a nonsmoker, and said explicitly that he wanted kids. We finally wrapped up our discussion, but without enough time to head home first, I went straight to Longshots and decided to wait at the bar for him.
In one picture, he was wearing white slacks (linen maybe? He looked serene and content, standing with a very tan, old sailor behind the wheel of a large yacht. I threw my gigantic bag, packed with my laptop and dating data, next to me as I sat down and sunk into the cushion.In another shot, he was sitting at his desk at work, surrounded by stacks of newspapers, file folders, and paper. By now, the waitstaff and bartenders knew me by name.On his desk were a coffee mug and a pile of reporter’s notebooks along with two giant computer monitors. For the past few months, I’d been having drinks at Longshots with different men at least twice a week.Dozens of press-pass badges were hanging on his cubicle. I never stayed more than an hour and always made at least two trips to the bathroom.