It’s funny how quickly life changes. On Valentine’s Day, I listened to a CBC Radio special on online dating. A month ago, I wouldn’t have paid any attention. Now that I’m single, however, I listened with rapt attention. I even jotted down a few things that I thought were particularly noteworthy (Never write lists of attributes in your online profile. Boring! Get an iPhone… Online dating has gone mobile!) But here’s the most interesting thing I learned: apparently the online dating market is now so enormous that it can support all kinds of niche sites. There are dating sites for seniors, for lesbians, and my particular favourite, a dating site for Jewish mothers.
I am not making this up. There really is a site called The J Moms, a place where Jewish parents post profiles of themselves and make connections with other like-minded Jewish families. Once the Jewish mothers establish a relationship, they trade profiles of their offspring. Presumably the offspring are aware that this is all happening.
I’m trying to imagine a prospect more terrifying than having my mother involved in my dating life. I can’t really think of anything.
So, since I’m not prepared to have my mother act as a matchmaker, I’ll have to trust in my own abilities to find a suitable man. I’ve done it before. I’m pretty sure I can do it again. And I can take heart in knowing that the dating sites are devising ever more complicated algorithms to match me with the man of my dreams.
I can attest to the fact that these algorithms work. Griff and I broke up once before, and when I dragged myself back to Plenty of Fish, it took the site exactly two days to find me my perfect match. I recognized the photo of Griff right away. It was one I’d taken of him.
Of course, I was quite indignant to discover that he was already dating again. How dare he! He should be at home feeling sorry for himself! He should be drinking scotch and listening to “Ain’t No Sunshine When She’s Gone.” And he definitely shouldn’t be using a picture I took of him! Eventually I remembered that I was on the same site, probably using photos he took of me. I contacted him and we ended up back together.
That’s not going to happen this time (she says confidently). But I hope that those algorithms will match me up with another man who shares my interests and values (and who is hopefully taller than me and not 87).
Okay, wait a minute. I’ve just thought of a prospect more terrifying than having my mother act as my matchmaker. What if I get matched up with my ex-husband?