I believe in taking risks in life… because with big risks come big rewards. In fact, I was once told by someone that I am “ballsy.” My being “ballsy” is my mother’s least favorite quality about me. I just really hate the shaving associated with having balls…
So in 2010 I left an obscenely secure job managing a high volume retail store to work in a community based store that focused on stretchy black pants and having a really nice ass. My life was pretty fun. And when lululemon offered me the chance to manage their store in the Hamptons, I jumped faster than Lindsay Lohan on a cocaine fueled joyride.
And while the Hamptons is awesome in the summer (I met loads of famous people), it is a zombie ghost town in the winters. Pretty much the only things going on in the winter are lunatic hermit writing retreats and a shitload of drunk driving. In October, 35 people were arrested for drunk driving, which is approximately half of the winter population in East Hampton. And in addition to being arrested they are also publicly shamed by having their names published in the weekly police blotter (which out of sheer boredom is read with the ferocity of NYT financial section), lose their license, and therefore their ability to date me (I come from a long line of czech booze magnates… so clearly I won’t be the designated driver anytime soon). So it was starting to look like a lonely winter.
So, being the ballsy chick that I am, I decided to internet date. However, now that you know of my inebriated heritage, I should note that I was not entirely sober when I made the decision to sign up for eharmony. In fact, I was about 8 % sober since I decided that hydrating with wine after spin class while simultaneously counseling my sister through her latest dude drama via phone was a grand idea. I literally remember saying… “Hey, who drank my whole bottle of wine,” to my sister. Oops.
So I threw caution (and sobriety) to the wind and signed up for eharmony because I had heard they were the best for meeting quality people (and I think it was a free trial weekend when I signed up… that’s how they get you hooked). I then filled out the LONGEST EVER PERSONALITY SURVEY while wasted. It was seriously 45 minutes of the same question being asked over and over and over again. “What is your preferred dress style?” “What is the preferred style of dress for your partner?” “How important are looks to you on a scale of 1 to 10?”
Can’t you just ask if I am a preppy, shallow, WASP already? I need to open another bottle of wine.
But seriously, drunk or not the survey did make me think about what was actually important to me. And it worked because in the four months I was on the site I met three pretty hot dudes who weren’t totally insane (although none were entirely normal either). Turns out that if you put looks are 7 of importance on a 1 to 10 scale and that you personally work out everyday (which is true… drunk Erin is ballsy but not a liar) you will get hooked up with two triathletes who look like greek Gods when naked (It is also how I met RomCom… or as I have taken to calling him… Gigi’s current bitch). Both were perfect gentleman who made sure to tell me their last names and the places we were going to meet so that it was clear to my friends that they were not serial killers. I didn’t tell them that I wasn’t actually concerned about them being serial killers because serial killers don’t own Golden Retrievers (and both of them had pictures of themselves with their dogs on their profiles. As a note, having the requisite “dog pic” on your profile is a bonus if you want to get laid. It totally works. I had one too). So I dated eharmony man meat for three months… and it wasn’t too shabby.
And while it didn’t work out with Kyle (who moved to Seattle with his designer jeans, memory foam mattress, possible homosexuality, and his massive ego) or Michael (who still resides on Connecticut with his dog, his bipolar disorder, and his really unattractive sweater collection), it was a fun thing that everyone should do at some point. And not as a desperate, last chance, I can’t find anyone kind of thing. I actually learned a lot about myself in the process. For example:
Looks matter… but not at the price of knowing the identity of the current Vice President.
When someone sensitively admits they are bipolar… regardless of current wine intake the correct response is never “Oh, your emails make a lot more sense now.”
Yoga class is not an appropriate first date if you want to boost a dudes self esteem.
Triathletes can in fact talk about bicycles for two hours. It will be the worst two hours of your life.
For the single folk, internet dating is a risk worth taking. Just bring along the pepper spray. Or a taser if it is legal in your state. Or maybe a rescue panther like in the Geico commercial.