It’s a brand new world out there every day, considering how quickly technology is advancing.  One of the most universal of human dealings has been radically transformed by the electronic endeavors of man.  Millions of people the world over have subscribed to one website or another, and by doing so, have forsaken traditional face-to-face interactions.  Hedging your bets, one might say, is best before committing to an appointment which may prove successful.  I speak of course, ladies and gents, of the pursuit of love.

I’ve always been a romantic at heart.  I take great pride in not only my wooing skills, but my history as a partner attentive to his lady.  My prodigious talents were often wasted on women that were either emotionally unattainable, or in a few cases, mentally unstable.  Even after watching one of my finer choices in a girlfriend get arrested on my front lawn following her pitching an alarm clock at my head, I was undeterred.

One of the most prominent of weapons in my accoutrement was a ballpoint pen.  There were few things I did better than craft a good love letter.  The Internet was just becoming a tangible reality when I reached my teenage years in the mid-to-late 1990s ; and for good reason, my access to it was severely restricted.  I wasn’t complaining.  I met girls at social functions, at school, or through my first job at the grocery store..  As I grew older, I noticed that I had established a fairly set routine as far as dating rituals went.  First came the initial meet and greet, followed by some modest or blatant flirtations, and finally a phone call.  The phone call usually ended with us setting a date to go out to dinner.

While this was a fine and honorable way to conduct business with romantic prospects, it forced me to take a few things into consideration.  The ratio of receiving a return (good conversation and a second date) on my investment (dinner) was less hit and more miss than I was comfortable with.  I certainly wasn’t making money hand over fist and I began to feel as though what I was missing was volume. By the time I was in my late twenties and my tastes were maturing, I couldn’t afford and had no desire to take shots in the dark every so often over lemon-infused chicken crostini.    I wanted facts and faces at my fingertips, so that I might be better able to avoid unpleasant break-ups which involved dodging flying alarm clocks and phone calls from mothers who were very, very disappointed in me.  My first venture into the electronic dating pool was the equivalent of leaping from the high dive with an exposed power line in my hand.  I signed up for a popular dating website, paid my dues, filled out a modest profile, and added a few flattering photographs of me looking dramatically conflicted.  Almost immediately, I got started with the elimination process; weeding out the initial no’s.  Most of those expediently disqualified were women listing their interests as: “muddin’, drinkin’, doin’ it, huntin’, or watchin’ Two and a Half Men.”  If I ran into sentences like:  “I’m a very sexual person,” “I’ll only let a man into my womb who’s got Jesus in his heart,” or “I used to be a man,” I could be confident that it probably wouldn’t end up being a good fit for me.  Still, my dates continued to be consistently mediocre and sometimes smelled of either filterless Marlboros or wild raccoon.  It was then that I realized what I was missing.

I revamped my entire profile, taking into account that I‘d neglected to employ nary a modicum of verbal representation of who I was looking for.  My self-description was woefully inadequate and I was amazed that I could have overlooked it.  When I finished, my profile was the picture of eloquence and abound with evocative description.  It read like a love letter to anyone able to identify with its message.  It was warm, passionate, vibrant, and detailed.  I decided that the only way to go about this online dating business was to be true to my nature.  Writing steady, quality correspondence was the key. Before too long, I received a response from a young lady who seemed very well-adjusted and came sporting a creative nature that I found irresistible.  While I had previously settled for bonding over crucial commonalities like enjoying football games, various cheeses, and mutual crushes on Gavin Rossdale, there was instantly much to discuss with this one.  We found ourselves writing back and forth for over a month about the vicissitudes of our lives, our aspirations, and what we wanted from a significant other.  I decided that someone who could inspire me to write so much with such frequency must be worth a real world encounter.  We met on a reasonably pleasant evening in early November when I picked her up at her apartment for fine Italian dining.  I was surprised that she’d allow me the gentlemanly pleasure of doing so.  She didn’t appear at all surprised when she answered the door and I wasn’t standing there on her doorstep wearing a hockey mask and clutching a large meat cleaver.

Nearly two years have passed, and I stand confidently behind my decision to include technology in my romantic affairs.  I can and will not give the medium itself exclusive credit, however.  Even diving blindly into the unknown, I brought with me my metaphorical pen and paper.   If you’ve considered dipping a toe, I recommend the method without hesitation.  I must urge you, however, to take advantage of your opportunity to write, and write convincingly.  Remember that institution is always at the root of novelty when you’re pondering whether or not you should post those pictures of you wearing that sweet Ed Hardy shirt you won after a grueling Stratego tournament in a really bad neighborhood last Thursday night—people of substance are probably looking for a just a little more.  Simply because the technology is there doesn’t mean you’re under any obligation to make snap decisions.  Sit back, use your words, and you’ll be fine.

{image via Carrie & Danielle}