My sister-in-law suggests that I write up a personal description on this blog for dating purposes, to which I am thoroughly opposed. Personally, I never saw much dignity in such stratagems. Personal ads to me are like pinning “For Sale” signs on your forehead for buyers who are given free reign to criticize the peeling paint and giggle at the shoddy workmanship. No, methinks to continue posting random thoughts and stories, topics important to me. However, if you find that sexy, are female, and were born between1980 and 1985, then feel free to drop me an email.
Katie on a whim just recently signed onto an online dating service for young people with faith; Catholicpeople.com, I believe is the name. Usually I avoid online dating sites, preferring my love life to reside in the 3-D realm: face to face and with as few masks as possible. Being quite foolish and odd by nature, I feel obliged to provide my date some level of honesty, which online sites always mar in some way, being easier to remain forthright with a live person than a computer screen.
Yet religious sites frighten me all the more, though not for any intrinsic conflict with my faith. To me any dating or matchmaking service centered on any religion, philosophy, club, or cult make me uncomfortable, as if haunted by some ghostly spoken mantra: “Come join us. Be with us. Breed with us.” Of course, one might simply argue that possessing similar values and beliefs is the foundation to any successful relationship, to which I would grudgingly agree, though I’m still not drinking the Kool-aid.
Anyway Katie signed onto a free account, whose main objective was to wet the appetite with a few stud-ly Catholic guys so that you fork over money to activate a real account and thus obtain addresses and phone numbers to these religiously-minded and hopefully lonely hunks. Jokingly she filled out the questionnaire with such entries as “. . . and I love drinking Pina Coladas, walking on the beach, and getting caught in the rain.” Overnight my lil’ sister found three guys who took an interest in her (or her memory for song lyrics): a father of three in Michigan, a 40-year-old guy in Ohio, and Jose who lives in Ecuador.
“What’s with all the old guys?” Katie shouted, after the third guy, Jose, asked if she liked to travel.
“I wish you’d stop visiting that site,” our Mom would call from the kitchen, “What kind of late 30-yr-old guy would hit on a 22 year-old girl? That Catholic site is full of dirty old perverts.” I’ll be sure to mention that to our pastor this Sunday.
Not wishing to be left out on this considerably robust dating market, I repented of my former provincial opinions and signed up for my own dating account. The opening screen showed a few pictures of beautiful young Catholics, smiling like sharks to a young guppy. A few more clicks later and I found myself stumbling over an appropriate opening line. Sheesh, what do you say to a bunch of sex-deprived Catholic singles? “Hello” came to mind, as did several other witty bits of blasphemy, but I decided with “Hey everybody, how are you doing?” until I could test out the humor-levels of my fellow singles.
Scanning through the other intros, I saw that most of the female members possessed about as much imagination as I did, “Hi” being the most numerous. Only one honestly answered that conjuring up an opening line for a Catholic singles site seemed pretty ridiculous. Personally I would agree. After years of extensive corporal Catholic schooling, I am pretty sure that flirting constitutes as a sin somewhere in the Bible – a fact often lost amongst all the begot-ings in Deuteronomy. Nonetheless, I recall the sharp thwack of ruler on bare skin and the reprimands of Sister Dorthy during our school mixers.
“Too close! Too close! Young men and women should keep a Bible’s distance from one another while dancing!” Her voice resounded off the gym walls like the edicts of the Metronome. Her Bible was the size of the Guttenberg. “Kevin Coolin, if you move another centimeter closer to Ms. O’Bryan I will duct-tape a ruler to your forehead!”
Earlier tonight Katie was surprised to receive among several emails from 50 and 40-yr-olds, an email from someone in DC. Someone young. And single. “Probably, another pervert,” Mom murmured. After several excitable screams, I realized that the site somehow emailed her my stats. We laughed at the absurdity and turned off our computers. So far, I have received no emails myself, which is fine. As I said before, if any of these posts excite you, drop me a line – but for my Mom’s sake no 50-yr-old perverts please.