Confession

I have a confession: I am addicted to OKCupid. I think the iPhone app is partially to blame. It is a narcissistic weapon of destruction. I haven’t even messaged anyone, let alone gone on a date, yet I am becoming obsessed with checking in to read the sometimes generic, but always hilarious, messages I receive. I feel like every single person should be on it, not for dating necessarily, but just for some positive support and flattery. The random messages strike a nice chord somewhere between getting catcalled on the street and receiving a cheesy bouquet of roses from a secret admirer.

Dipping our toes in

Online dating profiles are like herpes, more people have them than you think. (I do not have herpes—just an example.) I was having lunch with some girlfriends in Fort Greene the other day when I revealed my dirty little secret of online dating. I paused, expecting to hear gasps, giggles, and teasing but I didn’t get any of that. In fact, their reactions were almost annoyingly underwhelming and accepting.

One friend, a gorgeous Swedish dancer, revealed that she was dating someone she met on Match.com and had several successful dates on the site before settling on her current beau. Another reminded me that our friend Sarah, a blond English babe, who was still dating the guy she met on OKCupid in the fall. “Hate to break it to you, but online dating isn’t as taboo as you think.”

Okay, so I’m being a wimp and granny and me are not pioneers of Internet love. I showed the dancer friend my profile and only then did the mocking begin. “Could you be any more vague and mysterious?” she asked. “No wonder you’re only getting messages from douche bags.”

After meeting with the girls I called Granny, hoping to impart some of the positive dating vibes on her. I got on JDate and started looking at her suitors, “You’re really stressin’ me out kid. Read me their profiles, I’m gonna relax on my terrace.”

Being that Granny is basically computer illiterate I went through her admirers while she sat on her lounge chair and turned her nose up at all of them. “This guy is 74, from New York, has 3 kids, loves golf and going to the movies, he’s a Taurus—” I began before she cut me off.

“Taurus? No way. Taurus and Sagittarius—not a good match,” she said.

“What? Since when do you follow horoscopes? What do you even know about star signs?” I asked.

“Oy, trust me. A friend told me. Or maybe it was Pisces and Sagittarius? Let’s hear another.”

“Okay, this guy is 80—” I started again.

“80? No way. How am I gonna go on a date with an 80 year old? He’s probably blind, half-way dead, and in need of nurse not a date.”

Granny is 75, definitely a young 75, but for some reason a man who is five years ahead of her is out of the question. Her standards are even higher than mine. I continued going through the list as she shot down one after another.  “Big eater? He must be a real heffer”, “Never married? Psychopath”, “Likes to salsa dance? Yeah right, he’s 78, I bet he can barely walk”.

As cringe worthy as it feels for me to be online I think I need to be more sensitive to Granny. This process is so foreign to any romantic experience that she is familiar with. Facebook (or as Granny refers to it as, “that book with all the faces”) is really only a step away from this process of scoping out people to date. Unfortunately, Granny doesn’t have Facebook so it’ll take more time to warm her up to the site.

“Let’s do yours, I wanna hear what all the schmaltzy schmucks have to say to you,” she said.

I read her one from a 32 year-old music producer who loves “a home cooked meal”. She cackled, “Oy, you can’t cook if your life depended on it. Write back, ‘I don’t make dinner, I make reservations.’”

Although she is right, he didn’t seem appealing enough for a face-to-face interaction. I read another from an Irish guy who was new to New York. “Irish? Oh no, you can’t date him. He’s a big drinker, probably an alcoholic. You know, the Irish have that drinking gene.” I didn’t know, but I went with it.

I clicked on a photo of a handsome man, “He’s from Chicago, family and friends are important to him, likes playing basketball, he was a marine—”

“Well he’s not Jewish then,” she cut me off.

“First off, how would you know that? Second off, why does that matter?” I asked.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m just sayin’ what Jewish marines do you know?”

I actually don’t know any marines either way, nor do I care if a guy is Jewish but I decided to carry on down the list regardless. The messages and profiles, albeit entertaining were not captivating enough to deem response-worthy.

I’ve decided to take my friend’s advice and be slightly more revealing in our profiles. When we got off the phone I went back to Granny’s JDate, and jazzed it up a bit. In addition to her love of biscotti and cappuccino I added traveling and theater. I also added a picture of her with my mom, my sisters, and me, that way the JDaters can get a better idea of the line of ladies she produced.

I went back to my profile and sprinkled some more informative details. Then, under the tab “You should message me if…” I added, “You are not creepy or topless in your profile pic.”

Slowly but surely we will get the hang of this. I have to admit, I’m getting kind of excited to go on an actual date, and even though Granny won’t own up to it I know she is too. I downloaded the Iphone app for OKCupid, I’m prepared to be more proactive. Come on fellas!

Relinquish the Ego

Relinquish the ego, bury the stigma, and embrace the humility before you build your online dating profile.

I decided that JDate would be the appropriate site for Granny. Although she is far from a practicing Jew, she is Jew-ish and has spent most of her romantic life with Jews, loves pastrami on rye, and making up words that sound like Yiddish but in fact are not. I thought it best to keep her in a good comfort zone.

We made her profile together over the phone. As soon as it became a reality she began to lose her shit and recant her promise to give it a go. She insisted it was too embarrassing and suggested making a fake personality for her profile. When I told her that made no sense because she would be incapable of maintaining her fake personality throughout a whole date she revealed to me that she was the most deceptive person I’ve ever met, “I lie to you all the time and you don’t know it,” she said. I then questioned if she was even really my granny or just a devious imposter.

After an agonizing hour of encouragement she began to get into it. Body type? I suggested we put down petite, she preferred adding shapely or voluptuous. The ultimate deceiver insisted we significantly decrease her age. For 75, she’s a hot commodity, but still I thought it would be best to stick with the truth. “They’re all doin’ it, trust me kid,” she insisted. “And I betcha they all put down that they listen to jazz. They think it makes ‘em sound young and hip. Like, look at me, I listen to the horn!” Again, I didn’t exactly agree but I went with it.

She is barely 5’1, but like me she wants a taller man. “He better be at least 5’8, I don’t want any fashrimpadickas like your mother’s dating.” (Fashrimpadicka is one of Granny’s fake Yiddish words that she uses to describe short creepy men.)

I asked if we should put down “worldly” for one of the qualities she looks for in a man.

“Wealthy? Definitely.” she said.

“No, no, ‘worldly’.” I corrected.

She laughed, “I like wealthy. Yes, definitely put down wealthy. Worldly isn’t bad either though.”

Her “About Me” and “What I’m looking For” sections are quite vague. She was hesitant to reveal too much. “Less is more, less is more,” she insisted.

Then it was my turn. I chose OKCupid, it’s the site my sister met her boyfriend on and was recommended to me by a few friends that were willing admit to online dating. My first struggle came with choosing a username. It’s almost impossible not to come off cheesy in a screen name. I’m ashamed to admit that I even googled ideas. DolphinLover62, Bonerz4U, NYCbabez13, and gr8nbed were some names I came across.

Then there was the picture. “Nothing slutty, but something appealing, ya know, friendly,” Granny suggested. As soon as the picture uploaded I began to feel the same hesitations that Granny went through. Suddenly my face was out there, on the Internet for all exes, acquaintances, friends, and strangers to see.

I felt like it was a public surrender to the spontaneity of romance. I met my last boyfriend on the street outside my apartment in New York City. Our relationship was impulsive, passionate, and the furthest thing from building an OKCupid profile.

“Let’s fill the rest of my info out later,” I suggested. I hung up and went to the gym. The weight machines were packed with men between 25-38. Shit, I thought. Someone in here might recognize me! I hung my head low on the elliptical while I tried to sweat away some of my anxieties.

After showering I logged back on to the site to find 27 new messages from possible suitors. I still hadn’t uploaded any info so the messages I got were based on my “friendly” picture and the fact that I accidentally checked the box that I was into “casual sex”.

Some messages I received from men that ranged from Staten Island guidos to World of War Craft enthusiasts:

“Wanna cuddle?”

“What’s the last good movie you saw? I would love to go see Cars 2 with you.”

“I’m an Asian doctor. Interested?”

“Yo buttaface, I got girlz hotter than u.”

“Beautiful hair. Are those natural curls?”

“hi sweety u wanna have sexy time?”

“Hi, I am a 42 year old Spanish man, 5’9 tall, 180 lbs with a fit body, black hair, brown eyes and looking for a friendship for a casual affair.”

Along with many other messages, ranging from flattering to creepy to downright offensive, I was feeling intimidated but decided that adding more info might help with the process of elimination. Alone, I sat at my computer, sweating and moaning out loud from pangs of embarrassment.

I called Granny. She bullied me the same way I did to her and I whined the same way she did to me. We argued over what information in my life is important to reveal. I work in a nightclub and I also run a non-profit; two conflicting worlds that are hard, and in my opinion, unnecessary to articulate on OKCupid.

“Don’t put anything about ya nightlife gig, they’ll get the wrong idea,” she insisted and then continued to preach to me for the millionth time about why I should stop working as a bottle server. “You know you’re never gonna meet a nice man that’s comfortable with you shaking your tush in a little dress to sell alcohol to snot-faced millionaires.”

“You should put down that you’re charitable, you’re a philanthropist, you’re well traveled. Put, ‘I hope I’m fun, I think I am.’”

I decided to go with her “less is more” motto.

When it came to what I’m looking for I asked her how old was too old for me. “I don’t know? Double your age I guess,” she suggested.

“What! That’s obscene,” I said, “You would freak out if I brought home a 48 year old.”

She agreed. “Okay, okay. Only double your age if you’re just fooling around. If you’re getting serious no one over ten years older than you.” Still slightly shocking, but fair enough.

Oy, the whole process was exhausting. I just received a message from someone telling me my profile sucks. I think we both might need to take a few days to step back and let the humiliation wear off and the excitement of such a large pool of pursuers sink in.

Some background on us gals…

My grandma is part Larry David part Joan Rivers. She’s not the sweet-talking, cookie baking, crocheting type. She’s a shit talking, adventure seeking, gossipy yenta. Her wit, humor, and unending opinions never cease to entertain me. We share an offbeat sense of humor with a brassy temperament – and like me, she is single.

Last summer when my four-year relationship fell apart I called my granny for support. I wasn’t looking for empowering words; but rather I was in need of her sassy trash-talking rants. With her thick Jewish-New Yorker accent she quickly turned my sweet ex into the most undesirable piece of scum. “Oy, he was too old for ya. What is he a pervert?” I laughed back tears. “Honestly, did ya see what he wore for Thanksgiving? Who does he think he is? That kid from High School Musical?”

I’ve spent the last year bouncing around, casually dating, engaging in steamy hook ups, getting involved to just get involved and being alone. I’m 24 and ready to move forward.  I live in New York, I’m attractive, outgoing, and smart (Granny blows a lot of steam up my ass, hence my inflated ego). I’m always meeting men yet I haven’t met anyone who I really connect with or could see myself being in a relationship with.

Granny has been on her own for decades. It’s time for her to meet someone; she’s too entertaining to be alone. This lady needs an audience. However, she would rather get a root canal than attend a senior mixer or join one of the many groups for people of her age in her home of sunny south Florida. The last romantic rendezvous she went on in years soured her taste to the whole dating scene. It was a blind date, where over fondue her 80+ elderly escort revealed that he was a very good kisser but in fact kissing was all the lust his body could express in his old age. Although I don’t really believe her, she insists she had to physically carry him out of the restaurant because he was too old to walk.

When my older sister (or as Granny shamelessly refers to her as: the “favorite granddaughter”) met her boyfriend online dating last year, Granny and me were horrified yet secretly intrigued. It’s 2011, right? Those Match.com commercials advertising that 1 out of 5 relationships start online can really get to you.

After much deliberation and some serious coaxing, Granny and I have decided to check out what the kids are up to these days. We are joining the world wide web of dating. Being that we are both fiercely independent, we’re not looking for someone to complete us. We’re complete already. It would just be nice for us to each meet men with common interests to flirt, have fun, and gossip with each other about.

So, it’s happening. We’re doing it. We’re putting it out there. We are online dating and my granny is my wingman.