The Worst $83.70 I’ve Ever Spent

My best friend got married in June to a very wonderful man she met on eHarmony. This meant that amid wedding plans, there was lots of encouragement for me to give it a shot (again). Unfortunately, while writing my maid of honor toast and, probably, drinking a beer, I began to think that maybe she was right and I should sign up for eHarmony. So I did.

That was how I spent $83.70, the same amount of money for which I could have had one extra large Snazzy Napper, a hot dog shaped hamburger mold, and Pink Kush Supports.

My first indication that things on eHarmony had already gone awry was within a few days.

And then there was this.

Whitney 3

But I’m not here to talk about my horrible matches directly (of which there are plenty). I’m here to talk about my horrible matches indirectly.

After only talking to one man who got weird, possibly a little serial-killery, and who only ate turkey bacon and then being matched with a devout Jehovah’s Witness in another state, I decided to call customer service. This is more difficult than you’d think because this is what happens when you try to find a customer service number on the eHarmony website.

Customer Service

After skirting eHarmony’s avoidance of providing customer service by googling for the number, I made the phone call (844-544-3179, if you’re looking for it). My conversation with the “customer service rep” went something like this.

Me: Hey, I don’t like the people I’m being matched with and the last straw is that you matched me with a Jehovah’s Witness in another state. Not only would be not be a good match, we would fucking hate each other. This basically shows me that you’ve run out of people to match me with.
CSR: Well, let’s take a look at your settings. It looks like you say you can be matched with Christians.
Me: Yes, that’s because “Christian” is a very vague term and it doesn’t mean much to most people, and I’m not sure you’d have anybody left to match me with if I uncheck that box.

My proposal was that eHarmony would not offer me a refund,  but instead shut down my account, and not take any more money. They said “no.”

CSR: Well, we can shut down your profile, but you’ll have to make the other two payments first.
Me: So let me get this straight: You want me to pay the same price but for less service?
CSR: Well, we have to collect the remaining payments before we make any changes to your account and profile.
Me: Ok, well, I guess I’ll just entertain myself by sending screenshots of ridiculous profiles to my friends for a few months longer.

warning

I have now paid my three easy payments, and eHarmony is routinely warning me that my time with them is drawing to a close. I will be released from this bondage on December 17, 2015.

Of my last 100 matches, 84 of them have been outside of my preference settings which I think are roughly equal to my real life odds. Of the 16 matches that were within my preferences, 100% of them were of zero interest to me.

I’m pretty sure eHarmony’s algorithm is basically, throw ’em what we’ve got, much like the real world.

Friends, learn from my mistakes, don’t give eHarmony money to do what visiting church or what visiting that weird guy at work’s mom’s basement could do for you.  Just don’t.

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Shiver me, Tinder!

In a brief lapse of judgment, I downloaded Tinder because it included two very important factors: It was free and it contained people I hadn’t yet met.

I spent the first three days mostly swiping left and communicating with people who were like:

Tinderer: I’m in town for the weekend. Wanna have some fun?
Me: Nope.

After a few days of this I developed a slight appreciation/hate relationship with Tinder and I tried to delete the app. However, having recently switched from an iPhone to an Android I discovered that dragging the icon to the trash can was not sufficient to delete the app and that I must uninstall it. This is where I lost motivation and gave in to more time with Tinder.

Lucky for my dear readers this means that I have been on some lame first and one lame second date as well as the first stranger danger dating in a very long while.

Tinder Match #1:
Canceled with the I’m-not-feeling-very-good card.

Tinder Match #2:
Wanted to meet for a walk around the lake. Showed up in basketball shorts and a t-shirt. Got called into work. We made plans to meet for brunch.

Although we had a time and place, he seemed to think that since I didn’t immediately respond to his “good morning” text that we may not be on for sure so he proceeded to drink some ridiculous protein shake. He showed up 30 minutes late in (possibly the same) basketball shorts and a very wrinkled t-shirt. He choked down part of a fruit plate while I ate steak and eggs. He then rushed out at the end because he had to go to work.

Not only am I unsure that he ever laughs or chills the fuck out, he clearly had a very close relationship with his parents that included him living with them for many of his adult years – by choice. He really wants kids because he thinks he has things to impart and because he has thoroughly read and copied a Psychology textbook.

Apparently, we were basically soulmates.

James Tinder #1

Tinder Match #3:
A little to Mystery Method-y for my taste but still interesting enough to be in the running.

Tinder Match #4:
With this one, I’m just gonna roll with bullet points of things that went wrong:

  • I dropped all the f-bombs.
  • He was a teacher who was afraid of bad (see code word “behavioral”) kids.
  • He was skeptical, at best, of my neighborhood and may have inadvertently talked some shit about it.
  • He stopped drinking beer and started drinking water.
  • He did not say a single remotely funny thing.
  • He invited me to sit on his apartment balcony within an hour and a half of meeting.
  • I declined and invited him to a street festival that involved music.
  • He danced. (I conducted a 30 minute long search trying to find a video or gif that demonstrated this dance, but I was unsuccessful.) It was an unfortunate combination of pursed lips, finger guns, semi-flailing flat hands, and an ass that got way too close to my body.

And THAT is when I knew it was truly over. Most uncomfortable 30 minutes of my life…

I’m utterly divided whether to keep up Tinder for the blogging fodder or whether to scrap it and return to plan A which was live my life and let fate do or do not do its thing the old-fashioned way.

Hot Mess: Volume 13

This week’s edition of “holy fuck, why?” is brought to you by MarcB1234.

The problem is partly his face, but it’s also that he writes his message like it’s an old school, personal ad. Probably because he’s been looking “to meet somebody and see what happens” for just about that long.

Obviously, I’m not paying for a service because my primary criteria are age, height, weight, and availability.
Perhaps, that’s not as obvious as I think it should be.

MarcB1234 is yet another fine specimen (struggling to meet the 200 character minimum) who introduces himself like an early elementary school child.

I’ve told you how old I am. What else do you need to know?

But wait! In order to prove my ability to be a non-needy, responsible adult. I want you to be sure that I don’t want to rush anything, “We’ll see how it goes.” Just “hope the person is understanding” that I have the personality of a goldfish and internal exploration and self-awareness of a lobotomized T-rex.

Hot Mess: Volume 12

On this week’s “Good god, look who favorited me!” – HJV17
This man is the vanilla ice cream at the ice cream shop. Or to use a fish-in-the-sea metaphor, this man is breaded fish stick. No one’s really sure what’s in it, but it might be fish.

Image

Reasons HJV17 and I will never go on a date: 

  1. His headline, “Looking to meet new people” was recently updated. Before that he just had, “I’m here to send countless emails and winks to women who will never have sex with me.”
  2. His user name is one character away from the scariest STD in the world.
  3. He’s 37 and seeking women 18+. Six years older would be much too old, but 19 years younger is kosher AND legal.
  4. His entire “About Me” is 32 words, if you include “etc.” and he probably just threw that in to meet the 200 character minimum.
  5. He’s another gray silhouette, and I’m usually into the three-dimensional types.

 

Is this in appropriate occasion to say, “Fuck my life”?

Hot Mess: Volume 11

In general, I have pretty high self-esteem, some might even call it “cockiness.”
Semantics.

I know I’m not all that painful on the eyes. I’m pretty witty, laidback, self-sufficient, and low-maintenance. Also, I could probably kick your ass. This is, perhaps, why I’m perpetually the best friend with whom people really SHOULD be in love, but… There’s always a big “but”…

I’m also aware that many women do not carry themselves with or feel the same sense of confidence that I do. Which is why this is such a terrible first message.

It’s a fucking virtual head pat.

This message says:

  • You seem nice. Too bad your life blows.
  • I’m not quite sure why no-one wants you, but there must be a reason.
  • You seem hot, so you must be crazy.
  • I don’t understand why cupid keeps making you gargle his sweaty balls. You seem cool enough to me.

To add to the low blow, one knows it’s from someone who’s in exactly the same position, someone who thinks he’s a pretty good catch, despite the fact that he’s fictionally 92 years old and who has many interests not limited to, but including, women between the ages of 18 and 45.

Nothing says, “I’m just looking for a someone with (semi)functioning female parts” like a thirty year age range.
Don’t give me any of that, “Age is just a number” bullshit. No one says that or believes it except teenage girls who think they’re in love with guys old enough to buy them liquor, child molesters, old rich guys with trophy wives, and the gold-diggers waiting for them to die.

This message is only a confirmation for my “fuck it” inclination. Until my membership runs out, Match’s sole purpose is for providing me with entertainment while I get matched with myself and heal from their previous “matches”.

Hot Mess: Volume 10

In, perhaps, an it-seemed-like-a-good-idea-at-the-time moment, I reactivated my account with Match. After a few messages began to pile up in the inbox I had not paid to see, I gave the site some money.
At least 75% of my justification to myself was that I would, at least, have some new blogging material.

Message #1 was from a woman who wanted to hear about my Match experience but was “Don’t worry. Not a lesbo.”  I suspect that it was some sort of scam.

Message #2 was as follows:

While I suspected that Lex may be a bit crazy, I couldn’t resist the urge to reply.

Of course, it’s a bad idea to encourage the crazy. He replied twice within the same hour…

While I do find myself inexplicably attracted to Lex’s 2D pastel blue silhouette, I’m not sure I’m ready to admit that I’d like to tie up that pastel blue silhouette and do “kinky things” to it. I think the paper cuts would get to me before long.

If I had not already been put off by his discussion of gang banging, I would have certainly thrown off by his transition from kinky sex to “actually, I was thinking about angels.” It’s a rough transition from inappropriate early messaging etiquette to a philosophical justification of his apparent Schizophrenia and his intimate “I’m sure you understand” statements.

Sorry, Lex, my fairly open mind is a little too small for the crazed yammerings of those that hear Djinn.

While this reopening saga does not bode well for my dating, it does bode well for you, dear readers. Some fish are still in the sea because they’ve been thrown back.
Get ready. It looks like we’ll be laughing a lot together.

Hot Mess: Volume 8

What scares me most about Hot Mess #8 is that he may be responsible for healing and/or keeping people safe.
Oh, also the chest shots. Nothing says, “I think I’m hot” like obvious self-portraits that involve your chest. That goes for the ladies too.

Keep your Myspace pics on Myspace, kids.

Tested Theory: Guys who can’t walk by the mirror without checking themselves out or primping are overrated and, possibly, gay (at least in my study).

Let’s play “Guess My IQ

  • “People look at me and seem to wonder what i’m thinking about, most of the time i’m not exactly sure, but whatever it is probably has to do with how great you are.” I’m gonna have to call “bullshit” on this statement except for his reported confusion and lack of conscious thought. However, if this is true, I guess he’s probably NOT lying when he later says, “There is one thing I haven’t had that much experience in, and that is ‘dating’. Or, at least, these thoughts about how “great you are” are not often mutual.
  • “I have fairly decent values, I know whats ‘good’ vs. whats ‘bad’. I fit into the good category”. Congratulations, you have reached Kohlberg’s first stage of moral development – Pre-conventional Morality. It must be exceedingly convenient to organize your world in neat little dualities and even more convenient, that you fit into the socially acceptable side of these dualities. Your mother must be proud.
  • “I’m also the most mature person there is.” Skeptical. See above. And below.
  • “I feel like going out and doing something; I could go out and take pictures with my cell phone while climbing mountains and riding a bicycle.” Whiskey. Tango. Foxtrot. Recommendation: If you really don’t have anything going on in your head, don’t attempt a stream-of-consciousness writing style.
  • My religion: “that’s kind of a yes or no question” That’s not even a question, except possibly in Pre-conventional Morality. If it is a question, I think his answer may mean, “Yes, I’ll take it – the good one.”
  • Favorite Things: “Any category of music, as long as it’s good music.” Obviously. Should have seen that one coming.

If you guessed that Hot Mess #8’s IQ is 68, you are correct. Just short of both amusing and average.

Hot Mess: Volume 7

First Impression: Owenjwag is like a bargain, extra douche-y Robert Pattinson circa first Twilight movie.
This successfully combines three things I hate:

  • Robert Pattinson
  • Twilight
  • Douchebags

Communication Attempt:


Not helping, Owen. Douche factors are only steadily increasing. E.g:

  • I live in Minnetonka.
  • mba – the douchiest of all majors
  • looking for a ltr, or a great friend.
  • Subject line: “hi”

Meeting cool friends is a nice bi-product of a dating website, but it’s sure as hell not the product I paid for. I’m not THAT lonely, kids.


Devil’s Advocate:

Maybe he’s just not all that good at initiating the first message. Let’s check out his profile.


Uuuuuhhh… No dice. It’s all, “Hey look at me, I’m so moody and emo. Life in Minnetonka is hard. Don’t make me cry. It will totally mess up my eye-liner and right before my mba classes. Waaaahhh”

Gems:

  • “I think it is important to have common interests and what not to build on.”
  • “I’m a very open minded person, like to have fun, be funny, try new things.”
  • “I think honesty, trust, and loyalty are very important.”
  • “Anyway, it’s really hard to meet people.”

Dear O,

It’s really hard to meet people because you clearly have the personality of a saltine. Possibly less.
Your interests match nearly 100% of the population, maybe fewer a smattering of sociopaths, mostly because your “interests” aren’t necessarily interests. They’re more traits of most human beings. Liking to have fun is not open-minded nor is being funny.

Grow a personality. It’ll make this whole process easier.
Also, stay away from the eyeliner.

Sincerely,

Hannah

Hot Mess: Volume 6

I’m going to start with a grand ol’ “What the fuck?” on this here beauty, starting with this dapper fellow’s facial hair stylings.

I’m pretty sure that this is the portion of my profile to which this  fine gentleman is responding. You see, I have a strong aversion to the utterly pointless and creepy cyber winking that Match advertises as flirty and as “communication”.

I’m not exactly sure what he’s implying by, “if that’s the kind of students you have, you prolly met someone like me b4.” Kids whose “hienies” get molested by old ladies with lots of rings? Students who are old ladies? I’m at a loss.

“Rick T. THE GREAT. est technician that ever lived. lol.” is “too smart for anyone to figure out.”
Go figure. He got me figured out right quick. I’m oil. I am also a woman, so it’s best to find out what’s for dinner.

I’d also be willing to wager that the cigarettes in his pocket are Winners…that or Marlboro lights. Ick to the tenth power.

Consolation prize: I have “nice grammar”.