The Profile No One Would Dare To Write

It’s true that we all want to put our best foot forward when we are posting our profiles on the web. Or more to the point, our best  me-in-a bikini-on-some-gorgeous-beach shot. It’s all about advertising, right?

In fact, there is a woman, who has a thriving business helping people find love online. Her name is Rachel Greenwald and her book is called, Find A Husband After 35 Using What I learned at Harvard Business School. She believes in online dating, as it increases your odds of finding a partner, given how many millions sign up on sites every day all over the world. It’s a virtual shopping mall of hearts. Her main message: learn how to market yourself. As if you are a product. (Mr. Greenwald apparently charges $1,500 an hour for the pleasure of hearing her tell you this. That’s Harvard Business School for you.)

She knows a good business idea when she sees it. But she’s right. We are just products with different features. You know how men often say, “Well, she is a good package.” They mean it, just as we do when we speak of the men we admire. They look presentable. (No holes in their t-shirts.) They can hold a conversation. They have a job. Sure, they may have poor taste in lamps or curtains or something, but they can be taken into a furniture store without deep sighs of boredom and eye-rolling. They can even weep a bit over opera. All in all, the combination of attributes is good, and when we are assessing them – come on, be honest, we all do this – we think, yes, this is okay. This person is purchasable. Just like a car – you want air conditioning; you want stick shift, maybe: you want good gas mileage, etc.

So, I suppose, learning to advertise yourself is good. Choose a flattering shot. Say in your “A little bit about me” section that you are kind and honest and in need of companionship and financially stable. Hopefully, you will be inundated with emails.

But what happens when you are inured to the overstatements of advertising? What if you have learned to distrust marketing campaigns? I mean, really, do those burgers at Wendy’s ever taste as good as they look on TV, where food stylists have been practically painting sesame seeds on the buns? We live in a society that knows the games of marketing.

In the spirit of honesty, then, and for a little laugh, let us suppose that someone wrote a really, really honest profile that went something like this:

“Look, I know I come across as smart, attractive and cool in my online profile, but I have to tell you something. I snore. I drool on occasion. I even toot at bit. (That’s a nice term for flatulence.) I sometimes flake out in  front of the TV and I eat bad, cheap pizza and I watch those sleazy celebrity “entertainment” shows. I actually like Mary Hartley -  you know, that woman on Entertainment Tonight, who looks like she is made of plastic and hairspray. And I follow every bit of gossip about Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt. Do you know I heard that they all walk around naked in that house they rented in France? What a sight she would be: all tattoos, lips and baby bump.

But I digress, another rather cute fault of mine, if I don’t say so myself.

While I’m at it, I might as well admit that I listen to EZ Rock in my car and I sing out loud to songs by Cher and Barry Manilow. Yes, Barry Manilow. I can be very un-cool, you see. I’m not all jazz and Pinot Noir.  I don’t even care when people see me singing at the top of my lungs at a stop sign. If I happen to see them looking, well, I just smile sweetly back at them.

I also have been known to drink too much. Wine, mostly. And I can end up wearing a lampshade at dinner parties, if I ‘m not careful. Once, I had to pee in the bushes on my way home from a party, because I just couldn’t hold it any longer. I had to throw out my expensive shoes. That’s another thing: I overspend, especially on shoes.

That picture of me looking fetching in my sundress? Oh, that was taken five years ago, before I got into Crispy Creme donuts in a big way. But listen, that thin, beautiful self is somewhere beneath my muumuu. You just have to find her.

I hope my honesty doesn’t turn you off. Eventually, we all get past the infatuation stage, and we begin to see what the subject of our affection is really like, minus the haze of oxytocin and other “love chemicals.”  I am managing expectations, that’s all.  I am trying to help you avoid disappointment.

You should know, however, that I am a real love bunny. Nothing compares to the capacity of my heart, and surely you know I’m not lying about that, because I have been so honest about everything else.

Shoot me an email, baby. Who knows what could happen.

Love,

Not All You Think She is. “