If yet another phone call with my sister starts with questions about my love life followed by a disappointed sigh, I cannot be held responsible for my actions. Desperate times call for desperate measures - or maybe "crazy" ones. Surely Internet dating is not my first choice, but with only about a week until Valentine's Day, it wasn't my last choice either.
This whole thing was set off by an episode of the ABC news magazine "20/20," which recently featured a story about the science behind Chemistry.com. Codifying the art of dating into a science does have its appeal: if I follow their method, surely I can replicate their results. And publish my careful study in a respectable scholarly publication: The Eagle.
After taking the horrifyingly intense personality test on Chemistry.com, I decided that I'm not ready for that level of commitment. Ever. So I decided to try something so noncommittal, you can't even see your potential date's picture prior to meeting, let alone their income, whether they'd like children or their hobbies. Crazy Blind Date's tagline reads, "Are you feeling adventurous?" Well, kind of, maybe not that adventurous. So I took advantage of the site's double date feature and roped in a fellow editor to participate in the experiment. A few basic questions and we were set. Then came the waiting.
-KRISTEN POWELL
My mom laughed at me, but it was the interested kind, not the mocking kind. Very nearly everyone else stared until I qualified the statement with, "I'm not just doing this - it's for The Eagle."
I don't know why online dating has the reputation that it does, but every time I told someone that I was going on a blind date set up by a Web site, they refused to take it seriously. And for that matter, I guess I didn't either.
When you think about it, though, isn't a Web site more likely to set you up with your dream date than your friends? After all, the Internet knows more people than even the most connected social butterfly does. And the Internet is better at creating complex algorithms for love than your roommate will ever be.
But that didn't stop us from rejecting the first date that Crazy Blind Date set us up on. The Web site couldn't personally vouch for the character of our potential soulmates, and one of them appeared "sketchy" at best. We'll call him Duke.
After looking at the barebones profiles that described our dates, I had my doubts. The anonymity that had drawn me to the site to begin with was conversely off-putting when I had to commit to dating someone based on it. Clearly, I am a hypocrite. I wanted to know as much as I could about my date without giving out anything in return.
That said, it's hard to creep someone out in 100 words or less. Yet Duke somehow managed to do this. Maybe my standards are too high. But I wasn't superficially judging him based on his looks. I was superficially judging him on four questions he had answered hurriedly. Just like in real life, everything is about first impressions.
Admittedly, I did not come into this process with the best attitude. And I almost chickened out several times. As I waited for the bus the day of our date, the bus that could take me home stopped at the light and I very seriously considered getting on. Then, when I joined Jen outside of our meeting spot, we both considered leaving. But we sucked it up. We did it.
And it wasn't so bad. I still don't have a Valentine, but it was actually kind of fun. I laughed, I chit-chatted and then I found $10. No, seriously, I found $10. I'm not sure I'll be sinking it back into the Internet dating business, but I definitely did better than breaking even.
-K.P.
I have lived by three rules throughout my life: I never mix milk and pizza; I always look both ways before crossing a street and I never date strangers.
As a junior in college, and dateless for the third Valentine's Day in a row, I wasn't particularly discouraged about facing Feb. 14 alone. I was perfectly content about Val - err, Singles Awareness Day - until, of course, my friend and fellow editor Kristen suggested we delve into the abyss of the Internet to find some nice young gentlemen. Creep factor: very high. But what's so bad about being adventurous? Rules, after all, are meant to be broken.
Within minutes, I was logged on to crazyblinddate.com - which truly proved its name with its matching questions. I'd never before based a potential relationship on how a guy feels about cannibalism. I may or may not have made myself sound more interesting than I actually am, but isn't that what everyone does on those things? Nevertheless, we were scheduled to go out on a double date later in the week with two total strangers.
That entire week, I battled 'net-dating nay-sayers. I swore to everyone who told me this was a terrible idea that this was all for the sake of a creepy journalistic endeavor.
Besides, I had enough to worry about. I've seen all the TV news specials. I watch Lifetime movies. I wasn't about to be the victim of some sort of Internet-dating-serial-killer.
With a few moments of hesitation, I buried a kitchen knife in my purse, sprayed some perfume on my wrists and ran out the door.
I got on the bus, en route to potential dating hell, and I spent the entire ride gauging every guy who walked on, wondering if they fit the five bits of criteria that the Web site gives each dater. Or if they looked as uncomfortable as I was.
When I met up with Kristen, we both agreed: this seemed like such a great idea a week ago, but things had changed since then. Adventurous is really just another word for stupid.
Until, of course, the guys both got there. I'll leave out the gory details, but honestly, the hour or so we spent with them could have been worse. I even enjoyed myself at times.
Though I'm not completely sold on online dating - Saturday will still be spent with some frozen yogurt and "Bridget Jones' Diary" - at least I didn't have to pull a knife on anyone.
-JEN CALANTONE
