Guest Craig-ployment blogger, Robert Beets!
Craig-ployment has given us a peek into the life of a
free-spirited social exhibitionist. Her adventures continually provide lessons
on humility and encourage us all to try new things. They've sure made an
impression on me - possibly in the ways the author has intended - at least
strongly enough to inspire me to snag a gig of my own.
And what humbling, adventure-seeking gig would I sign up
for, you may be asking? Well a guy like me doesn't need lessons in humility -
that's like painting the kettle black.
So,
as an adventurous, self-diagnosed introvert, I decided to talk with a few
strangers about my online dating persona for a two-part communications study at
UW-Madison.
I met their criteria:
Madison area resident registered with an online dating service for at least one
month. (Being a transient I made the case for "Like, what even is a home,
man?")
I liked their sound scientific methods: Written personality test, in-person interview, and
panel of anonymous judges evaluating your online portfolio. And their price: $30
for participation.
STEP 1: Self-evaluation survey from the comfort of my own
bed? CHECK.
Stayed in my cocoon for the written portion of the study,
satisfying my inner-introvert. Ninety minutes of questions like, "Do you
consider yourself a mostly positive person?" and "Would others
generally describe you as a jackass?" Duh, straight 5s homey - informing
proctors they weren't about to trick this guinea pig.
The online form was a little exhausting, answering the same
question nuanced four different ways, but hell, I was on the clock and I don't
mind talking about myself. "Would you generally describe yourself as
someone who loves online personality tests?" Why, yes, I am!
STEP 2: Mildly awkward, but ultimately entertaining interview
about the accuracy of my dating profile? CHECK.
The interview took place in Nerd City (Madison, Wisconsin)
in the bowels of Vilas Hall - a campus fortress built to withstand riots and a
comical location to talk about the flowery subject at hand. Then again, online
dating sites have approximately the same cache in our society; generally
utilitarian, but hardly romantic.
I sat down with - we'll call him Miguel - a UW Comm Arts
grad student in his fourth year, one more to go. Contemporary mating calls of
the Great Lakes
Homo sapiens were definitely not his primary focus, but it
helped pay for tuition. I could relate.
 |
| Too much green? |
We sat in the relatively homey accommodations of the lounge,
equipped with a '70s couch and solid wood dining table - I'd guess it was maple.
Miguel sat with his back to the door and I sat opposite him, starting
the
interview by rating how accurately I felt each section of my profile
represented the “true me.” Again, 4s and 5s
for accuracy across the board.
The questions were pretty straight forward, probing for the
truth and how closely I stuck to it. I appraised my own profile, talked about
how accurately others' profiles appeared at a glance, and how close they turned
out to be for those I had met in person.
Seemed like most people I interacted
with were honest, but you kinda assume embellishment, rather than lying, is the
weapon of choice when looking to attract a mate, in any setting.
And that was really the point of the study;
where do online
daters make compromises in truthfulness when managing the conflict between
presenting ones self as an attractive mate and painting an accurate picture of
self? An interesting concept, which I certainly pondered subconsciously when
creating my
OkCupid profile a few months back.
Online Dating Conundrum
Online dating, for men, is pretty much like any other
playing field. There’s a bunch of dudes around and starting a meaningful
conversation is difficult because most of the ladies don’t actually want to
talk to you. Which ends up making you feel like one of those tropical birds
creating an elaborate stage; neatly arranging just the right ratio of flower
pedals to immaculate sticks like Niles Crane or Felix Unger, hoping a female stumbles
into your lair, impressed with your handiwork.
And like traditional dating scenes, the name of the game is
confidence. However showing that online without looking like an ass is
considerably tougher. Screwed from the start I say! But you still have to play
the game and keep up appearances, just in case the right gal wanders into your
theater of almost truths.
For about 30 minutes Miguel followed his script, asking
questions like, "What portions of a person's profile did you rely on most
when deciding to contact someone?" and I'd try my darndest to answer
truthfully by admitting looks factor heavily, followed by a woman’s
“willingness to be real, unique and cool." Felt like a conversation with a
counselor or, as much as I can imagine, a psychiatrist probing for clues about
the nature of my dating agenda.
As the interview concluded and I gathered up my $30 cash
(immediately spent on Rathskaller fare and Badger garb) I couldn't help but
wonder what the judges would think about my profile. Maybe they would laugh,
like the thousands of single Wisconsin women signed up for OkCupid doing just
that.
But I guess
it's human nature to wonder what others,
especially of the desired gender, think about us. And really, where would any
of us be if we couldn't learn to laugh at ourselves? Or at least other people’s
dating profiles.
Often frantic, I run around all day doing the art student thing. (Cue superhero music and deep voice.) But when the opportunity arises to write a haiku I dodge into the nearest phone booth, (which are becoming hard to find these days) and rip off my clothes, revealing an orange unitard with a big "5-7-5" on the front. I whip out my tablet and get to haiku smithing.
