Dan Dabbles in Online Dating

As a distinctly hideous and unattractive male, I find it extremely difficult to meet women, much less persuade them to engage in sexual intercourse with me.

Several weeks ago, as I was complaining to co-workers about my crippling loneliness and the fact that I can only masturbate so many times in the course of a day before the friction begins to damage my genitals and causes my hand to lock in a claw shape, it was suggested to me that I might want to look into one of the many dating services available online.

I had always assumed that dating sites were teeming with wretched, pathetic losers who lie profusely about themselves in a pitiful attempt to get laid. Wondering why it hadn't occurred to me sooner, I realized that I would probably fit right in, and I began the search for the site that was right for me.

Learning that highly touted dating sites such as eHarmony and Match.com were in fact pay services that charged exorbitant rates in order to access their databases of desirable womenfolk, I began searching for more economical options. My friend Nicole (who I highly doubt has ever required internet-based assistance in finding suitors, as she is quite the looker) turned me on to PlentyOfFish.com, which provides dating assistance pro bono.

Upon joining, I was asked to fill out a surprisingly lengthy and in-depth multiple-choice questionnaire where my options were to either Agree, Somewhat Agree, Somewhat Disagree, and Disagree with various statements. I noted that there was no option for me to express my indifference to a statement. It also occurred to me that to Somewhat Agree and to Somewhat Disagree with a statement was to essentially take the same stance, the only difference in the two positions being a simple matter of semantics, like describing a glass as being half-full or half-empty. Ordinarily I describe such glasses as being twice as large as they should be in relation to the quantity of liquid they contain.

Many of the forty-eight statements on the questionnaire were rather predictable, such as "I get nervous easily" (Somewhat Agree) and "My political beliefs are very important to me" (Somewhat Disagree) and "It is important to me for my friends to like the person I am with" (Somewhat Agree). Other statements were slightly more ominous in tone, such as "My own thoughts and feelings sometimes scare me" (Agree) and "I often get angry about how I am treated by others" (Agree). One that seemed particularly startling and incongruous amongst the others was "I want my children to speak English", a statement with which I Disagreed wholeheartedly, imagining how interesting it might be to have children who only spoke Latin or Ngabaka Ma'Bo.

After finally finishing the questionnaire, I uploaded a photograph of myself which I felt best represented my mustache and its ability to tickle the inner thighs of women. I then wrote a brief description of myself (actually, it was about six pages long), trying my best to give an accurate portrayal of myself that was in no way self-aggrandizing. (At one point I said: "I have hope that one day someone will recognize my sheer brilliance...") And with these final critical steps completed, I was let loose into the wild and wacky world of PlentyOfFish.com.

The site insists that it utilizes a highly complex and sophisticated mathematical algorithm to compute the results of the questionnaire in order to present you with an exceptionally accurate list of your best possible matches. The PlentyOfFish supercomputer determined that what I needed most in my life was a set of humongous, bulging breasts.

Don't get me wrong; I love women's breasts. Seeing a good pair of tits never fails to brighten my day. However, I don't necessarily have a preference for busty lasses. I enjoy boobs of all shapes and sizes, and at every possible opportunity. I was curious as to why my top fifty matches appeared to be little more than a parade of cleavage. At this point in time, I still had some faith in the science that drives the PlentyOfFish matching procedure, so I brushed aside my doubts and proceeded with my research.

After perusing the profiles of several sets of massive breasts and the women who were attached to them, it became apparent that there was very little imagination or individuality on display on PlentyOfFish.com. Indeed, the more I continued to browse through breasts, the more I found myself reading the very same thing over and over again.

I have compiled a standard description of a woman on PlentyOfFish.com, using nothing but the statements they most frequently use to describe themselves:

I am a very laid-back and easygoing person. I like to have fun. Sometimes I can be shy, and other times I can be very outgoing. I hate drama. Music is my life, but I can't stand country.

Indeed, according to their own descriptions of themselves, approximately 100% of everyone on PlentyOfFish.com is either "laid back" or "easygoing" or both. After reading innumerable accounts of girls who "like to have fun", I longed to stumble upon a woman who professed a hatred of fun and a fondness for unpleasant and disagreeable activities. A statement such as "I can be both introverted and extroverted" covers all bases in a manner reminiscent of an astrological reading, and astrology really grinds my gears. I felt that anyone who claimed to "hate drama" probably generated a considerable amount of it themselves, otherwise excessive drama would not have occurred to them as something even important enough to make mention of. Everyone feels strongly about their own musical tastes, but unless the person in question is a professional musician, I feel that the statement "music is my life" is a gross misrepresentation of the facts, like saying "my hair is also a hat".

I immediately ruled out any woman who stated she did not enjoy country music.

Finding my first few hours on PlentyOfFish.com slightly off-putting, I retired for the night without attempting to contact any particular woman or her breasts directly. Better to just let the ladies come to me, as they undoubtedly would.

And sooner than expected, they did.

The very next morning I received my very first private message, from a girl calling herself "SexiJessi22". A photo of her enormous bazongas was posted in pride of place on her profile, her face out of focus a few feet behind them. Nevertheless, I was flattered to hear from her. Her message was very short, simply saying "I like your mustache." I responded by saying I liked her mustache too. She never got back to me.

The next message came from BaltimoreGurrl, a rather homely young lady with thicker sideburns than I could ever hope to grow. In her photos, she displayed her cleavage gratuitously in a futile attempt to draw attention away from her mutton chops and slightly lazy eye. She cryptically wrote "Mustache ride? LOL. Txt me [PHONE NUMBER REDACTED]." After deliberating for several hours, I decided against contacting her.

On and on it went. The provocative e-mails from disembodied breasts began to pile up and I felt no closer to finding my soul mate. It was clear that none of the women who contacted me were even reading my profile at all, judging me solely on my looks (which I do not consider to be my strong point), and it seemed that only those who were eager to receive cunnilingus found it appropriate to write to me.

In the meantime, I continued to browse through profiles, becoming increasingly discouraged by what I saw. Everyone appeared to be either a dullard with atrocious spelling or a complete and utter maniac. The opening line of one particularly riveting profile stated "I have herpes; if you can't deal with that, please don't contact me" which seemed like rather sound medical advice to me. I also began to take note of a growing trend of women claiming to "turn into a psycho bitch if you piss [them] off", which I found to be quite a questionable bit of salesmanship.

After two weeks, I was considering closing my account. PlentyOfFish.com did not appear to be the right site for me. Suddenly, a miracle occurred.

As my finger hovered over my mouse, poised to click on the "DELETE PROFILE" function, I received an innocuous letter from a woman calling herself MustangLady503. She told me she enjoyed reading my profile and asked what type of things I enjoyed writing, other than staggeringly brilliant descriptions of myself on dating sites. 

I was flabbergasted. Someone had actually read my profile! She had noted that I had an interest in writing and was intrigued enough by that to ask me about it! I was considering asking her to marry me right then and there. I could hardly make out the small thumbnail photograph of her attached to the e-mail, but was pleased to see that it did not appear to contain three feet of cleavage. Indeed, her shirt seemed to be buttoned up the entire way. The photograph appeared to be of a girl with short dark hair standing beside a small Shetland pony. I clicked on the thumbnail in order to proceed to her full profile.

As it turns out, she was not standing beside a small Shetland pony at all, but rather a decidedly full-sized horse. The politest way I could possibly put it is to say that MustangLady503 bore a striking resemblance to the legendary professional wrestler Andre the Giant. In hindsight I feel quite guilty about never getting back to her. She may be a wonderful person who is extremely enjoyable to speak to. Nevertheless, at that particular point in time I was strictly looking for love, and I never responded, citing my policy of never dating a woman that I am unable to body slam.

To this day my account on PlentyOfFish.com remains active, and I still receive the occasional lewd and lascivious message from some young buxom harlot. However, I have abandoned all hope that this site might steer me in the direction of my soul mate.