If you haven’t watched Arrested Development, it’s streaming on Netflix; there’s no excuse but martyrdom and/or a hatred of laughter.  See, I bring it up because I have the Ashford & Simpson single “Solid” in my head (click that at your own risk, because you will NEVER get that song out of your head), because of the business model.

I’ll explain about the business model in a minute, but here’s what I think of when the term business model comes to mind:

That’s Starla, a model one of the characters on AD hires because he’s told he needs a business model.  And the A&S song accompanies her wherever she goes, because . . . of course it does.  It’s a great show, and you should watch it.  Or watch it again.

Anyway:  Snatch.  See, their policy is to let you sign up for free.  You can post a profile of yourself, as I described last time, and you can search profiles as well.  You can’t, however, communicate with anyone at all if you aren’t a paying member of the site, and paid membership isn’t exactly cheap.  I mean, I suppose you can’t put a price on love, or whatever, but somehow I was under the impression that love shouldn’t cost a thing.  Right?

Snatch serves up the illusion of this possibility by allowing you to send and receive Winks.  There are literal Winky Faces involved!

I’m not sure anything so twee can bode well for romance, but I either have to go along with the WFs, or quit, and it’s much too soon to quit.  I guess.

So these WFs can be sent and received.  They indicate that someone finds you appealing, and wants to flirt.  Electronically.  Wordlessly.  And for free.  If someone sends you a Winky Face, you can read his profile and, if you’re so inclined, send a WF right back.  And then…


There’s nothing else you can do unless you are a paying member.  You can’t even read an email someone sends to you!  I know this because I’ve received as email!  That I can’t read!  Nor do I know who it’s from!  Because I don’t want to spend cash money on this experiment.

I did get some other Winky FacesNone of these Winkers match the . . . interest that Duke & Frosty brought to the table, although they do seem like nice men.  One’s even quite cute, but he lives in California.  Another seems pretty witty, put he lives in Georgia.  Why are they flirting with me?  Why the Winky Faces? I’m not interested in pen pals, and I’m not likely to fly hundreds (or thousands) of miles for a lunch or coffee date with a stranger.

Here’s another feature of Snatch:  Their logarithms (or ouija boarding, or dice rolling) trawls around finding people they offer to you as suggestions.  The number one reason various men have been suggested to me is that each is, “Like [me], not a smoker.”  Well LA DEE DA!  Call Anne Shirley, ’cause I’ve found me a Kindred Spirit!  Other men have been suggested because (gasp!) they . . . SHARE MY BIRTH MONTH.  If that’s not something to base a relationship on, I don’t know what is.  I wonder what Snatch would make of the fact that Kid Rock and I were born on the VERY SAME DAY?  They’d probably make me change my name to Fishseekingbicycle ROCK.  Because:  SO MEANT TO BE.

Are Snatch and I meant to be?  Should I spend the money?


Hello world!

Howdy, there, Reader.  Welcome to this opportunity to laugh at me.  Why?  Because I’m 41-years-old and a divorced mother of a teenaged boy, and I’ve just created a profile for myself on an online dating website.  I’m not sure why I did it, but I do like men, and I would like to get to know some more.  Preferably single.  Preferably of the opinion that I’m smart, funny, cute, and amazing.

So here we go . . .

I don’t know whether it’s problematic to name the site I decided to use, but let’s just say it rhymes with Snatch.  I filled out my Snatch profile with honest answers and true statements, but I didn’t make any effort to avoid being glib and flippant, as my attitude toward this whole endeavor is indeed both glib and flippant, because the last thing I want is a devoted follower or a marriage proposal.  I want a few dates, a friendship, maybe an “understanding” of sorts, but I wanted to make it clear to anyone who might decide to click on me that I’m not desperate, or even in any especial need of a man.  Things are good the way they are, for the most part, but I concede that they could be improved upon.  That’s as far as I’m willing to go for now.

I included a very smiley photo of myself, set my search parameters for fellows’ ages to fall between 39-49, and a created a list of things I find attractive in men.  In fact, here–I’ll copy and paste the very text that I entered:

Here are some specific things I find attractive in a man (or in any person, really):

  • Appreciation for well-told stories
  • Appreciation for the sharp-but-mostly-good-natured humor of Mystery Science Theater 3000
  • Awareness of (and well-reasoned opinions about) current events and the world in general
  • Ability to light a campfire, change a tire, build a bookcase, clean and cook a fish, sew on a button
  • Comfort with solitude
  • Fondness for Scrabble
  • Fondess for . . . plain old food (I’m not at all adventurous when it comes to eating)

I know it all comes down to “chemistry,” and that a man with each of the above characteristics could be the handsomest man in the world and leave me cold (or if not cold, exactly, then sort of luke warm), but . . . I’d probably want to be friends with a man who has some of those qualities.

That’s nice, right?  I also noted that I’m agnostic, that my sofa is one of my favorite “Hot Spots,” and that I’m an enthusiastic reader of books.

I was pleased with the profile, and curious to see who might find me attractive and a potential match.

Are you curious, too?  Would you like to know who DID feel that I might be a good potential match?  Sigh.  The first and only person to contact me thus far is “Duke (not really),” who is 63 (older than my dad, incidentally).  Duke’s profile included a photo, about which several things were interesting.  This photo, presumably submitted in hopes of being perceived as attractive and appealing, featured an extremely overweight man in a ill-fitting and visibly stained t-shirt.  His hair was messy, and his expression seemed to be either bored or annoyed.  THERE WAS A WOMAN IN THE PHOTO AS WELL.  She was behind him, washing dishes.  The photo must have been snapped during the Christmas holidays, because the fridge in the picture was decorated to look like a grinning snowman.

I don’t want to share the actual photo, because I’m kind of a jerk but not LIKE THAT, so I drew an approximation of Duke and the fridge, which will henceforth be known as Frosty.

Not exactly auspicious beginnings, but I will remain hopeful.