E-jected
September 15, 2004
by Alexander Washburn

I recently moved from the cozy confines of New York City to Ft. Lauderdale. In New York, I left friends who were always a subway ride away and always up for a cocktail or 30 at our favorite watering hole. Family was in nearby New Jersey and even though I tried my hardest to make my visits few and far between and faster than hell, it was always nice to have Mom and Dad a mere 5 miles away.

On the streets of New York, I always ran into people that I use to work with, knew from high school, or met at some function or another. I always had an inbox full of “this party” or “that party” to attend. Always had someone I knew in a new play, comedy show or music show. To this day, there are more than a handful of bars and restaurants that I can pop into that I’m good for a free drink or even a meal at. To put it short, I was never at a loss for things to do and people to do them with.

That is, until I moved and had to start the entire process of meeting people and finding new places to spend what little dollars I have.

Like most single people I know, I resorted to finding what the internet has to offer. I’ve been a member of Friendster ever since a friend from California asked me to join her little circle over a year ago. With all the friends I could handle in NY, I rarely logged on. However, now I find myself checking Friendster numerous times a day, only to find an empty inbox.

I have tried to reach out to some of the young, swinging singles on Friendster and to this day, have yet to receive one reply. My profile is not all that bad, than again it’s not all that great. Unlike most people, I tend not to list every movie I love, every group I listen to and every book I call my favorite.

If this is the reason my inbox is empty so be it, I’m not changing.

Now, most of the woman I’ve sent messages to on Friendster don’t look like models, don’t have sexually explicit profiles and are far from looking for just a good time. They genuinely seem to be nice, wholesome people just looking to extend their social circle. Yet, they won’t return my messages.

The messages I’ve sent are a combination of the truth and something less like it. For instance, I did tell Ruthie72 that I’m new to the area, but I also told her that I love Egyptian art exhibits. The only art exhibits I go to are the ones that offer lots and lots of free wine. Of course, Ruthie72 has no way of verifying this information so if she merely read my message she should think I was the man of her dreams.

The message I sent to Tania also had elements of the truth and something less like it. Tania is a jazz fan and if you’ve ever read my column "Radar Screen" (shameless self-promoting plug) you know that I’m a huge jazz fan. I asked Tania in a message where she finds good jazz in the area (again playing the dumb new guy to town). From Tania, I got what I like to call the Genesis “no reply at all.”

Where is the something less like the truth you ask? Well, even though I’ve only been here a month, sitting through numerous bad sets, I attest that there are no good jazz clubs in Ft. Lauderdale.

Striking out on Friendster, I ventured over to Craigslist, which features everything from missed connections, to causal encounters to the standard man-seeking-woman and woman-seeking-sugar-daddy.

I sent a message to a Ft. Lauderdale Jill Clayburgh (An Unmarried Woman) who was looking for a tall, slender black guy to have her way with. She wanted vegans only – but I figured that once you’re over 40, beggars can’t be choosers, especially dietary choosers. Wrong, fore she replied that she only wanted to date vegans to ensure the long-term possibilities of the relationship.

Long-term? If you want long-term, perhaps your ad shouldn’t read: ‘White Mama Wants Chocolate Straw to Stir Her Drink”

Sometimes it looks like a perfect match. Like the 27 year-old who wanted a liberal, funny guy to spend time with. If you’ve ever read my column "All Things Reconsidered" (another shameless self-promoting plug) you know that I probably have a blood stained shirt I’m so liberal. Yet, two weeks after I sent her politically charged and comical email, I’ve yet to hear back from her. Now I hope her Chad hangs forever. I know mine is.

So, for know I’ve given up on Internet dating and now I’m resorting to meeting women the old fashion way: Stealing them from my friends.

Now, I just need to get some friends.

(Alexander Washburn is a volunteer staff writer for 2 Walls Webzine and the names have NOT been changed to protect the rejecters.)