Street Smart Chicago

Gone Fishin’

City Life, Love & Sex Add comments

The assignment intrigued me. Hang out on a new dating site called Chemistry.com, create a profile, and write about my experience. In other words, waste a good chunk of time and try to make sense out of nothingness. Like “Seinfeld” and Sartre rolled into one. Cool!

So I signed up, took the personality test, and voila! I was live in the online flesh market, ready to be sold like a bag of clams to some lucky fish. Like Jodie Foster in a floppy hat and short shorts, I was thrust before the ogling eyes of potential male buyers. Only in place of Harvey Keitel, I was my own pimp—boosting my selling points of European breeding, international education, blah and blah.

According to the personality test, I’m a Negotiator/Builder. Like Bob the Builder. Perhaps I should buy a tool belt? I was then “matched” with five guys. But none were “turning up the heat” like the site titillated. So I archived the vanilla, discarding these undesirables like farm-raised fish, clearly inferior to the wild-caught and sustainable variety.

Like any pursuit, the more effort you put in, the more options appear before your eyes, like the big doors on “The Price is Right.”

But seeing as most of the fish were weird and funky, like the kind with scary eyes or whiskers that make you shudder to think of touching. So instead of vying for a prize to take home I did what any frolicking fish would do: flirt and swim away.

I upped the ante with a smiling picture (a must in the meat market, according to site guidelines), and wrote a flowery, overly eager profile.

Some fresh blood started tugging at the line, most notable being Sex Man and Demanding Guy.

Sex Man ran the kind of profile that oozed with class and wit. “Looking for someone who is sexual and likes to get naked, and travel is important.” Ba da Bing! I moved the slider towards “sizzling.” Sex Man took the bait, sending his “relationship details” in a matter of seconds. I followed suit.

Within seconds Sex hit back with a humdinger of a question: “What’s more exciting than dinner on an exotic beach followed by a hike through beautiful scenery?”

Gee, I don’t know. I sent a reply and got nada back. Along with the rest of my seven “Active Matches,” Sex Man and I got stalled in the question phase of stage 2. Perhaps I should have gotten naked to get to Stage 3?

Demanding Guy was equally impressive in tact. “What will make me desire you?” he asked in his question. Then in a second question he sent his private email, requesting that I email him and send my phone number.

I emailed him through the site, asking him to send a picture. He wrote back, demanding, “why didn’t you email me at my private address?”

Because, my freaky friend, you didn’t work it. (Marla Seidell)

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