The next day, the powers that be at Match, have given my profile picture the go-ahead. I feel strangely excited at the prospect of signing into my newly created profile to and taking a look at just who’s out there looking for love. My friend, Matthew put it perfectly when he heard about my creating-a-profile-angst, he responded, “It’s the online equivalent of what do I wear?”
Today, I’m all dressed up and ready to get in the game. That’s the thing about me. I’m a sucker for potential. Though, I hate getting up too early, the morning is still my favorite time of day – there’s so much possibility! Anything can happen. Surprisingly, I’ve already got mail. Or, shall I say winks.
Winks are in place of email. It’s the ultimate risk-free way of telling someone you’re interested. I plan to be bolder than that. I plan to face my fears of rejection and jump in with both feet – no hiding behind a wink here! Still, I’m intrigued by my prospective winkers.
Most of them are not my type – balding, kind of vanilla – chinos and dockers - not really my type. I feel shallow. But, I remind myself that not everyone is for everyone. I happen to like bald men – not balding. I like men who are in shape. I also like men who’s eyes draw me in – “honest eyes”, as my friend Eric puts it. Isn’t this the point of Match? To find the right match for yourself. To not just respond just because someone has chosen me? Still, maybe I’m not being open if I’ve already written these guys off because of their lack of fashion sense I can see that I’m starting to circle the drain and I remind myself that I am not necessarily looking for the one. I am looking to expand my horizons – whatever that means.
Scrolling down my inbox, I notice I’ve got another wink. This guy’s not bad! He’s much more my type – dark-skinned, South American – a definite plus! And his eyes, they look honest. Now, the dilemma. Do I wink or email? Winking would be risk-free and totally against my self-imposed guidelines. But I have to say, now that I’m there, on the cliff, contemplating a tandem jump or a solo one, my courage seems to have disappeared. Doubt prevails. What if I email him? What will I say? It’s so contrived! Winking is so much safer….chatter, chatter, chatter. Blah, blah, blah.
“No pressure,” I whisper, while clicking on the wink! Icon. There. It’s done. Whew! This is exhausting.