Girl 48: Literary Agent Girl (A Hundred Girls from Match)
Oct 24th, 2024 by Viviane
I’d decided that there was a massive conspiracy at Match. They sent me the same faces over and over. Yet, if I were to use the keyword search function, and input something innocuous, like “tennis” or “financial” the database would spit out new people who lived right under my nose, yet despite exhaustive searches for locals, these women hadn’t come up. I wondered if the system were programmed to avoid problems between people, and only put out probable matches based on some secret math program. It stood to reason that Match was a moneymaking machine. I noticed that if I went to town and winked at over 50 women in one night, the server didn’t deliver most of my winks. It would assume (properly) that I had a bad date and was three scotches into the night, winking away at anything female, too bombed to write an email and too angry wondering why, yet again, I was sleeping alone. I also noticed that if I decided to hide my profile to avoid a stalker or to rewrite the awful thing, that Match turned up the heat and featured my profile on their mailings to females (“Your Latest Matches!”). It’s like Match knew when I was getting annoyed with it, so just like a girlfriend who senses a man’s displeasure with her, suddenly ups the number of blowjobs to keep the boy in the relationship. Just as I would be about to chuck it all and leave Match, women would start hitting on me in droves. Please, the system said, don’t leave me!
I decided on a new tack. Instead of searching for women by slutty profile words or hair color, I would search for them by vocation. Doctors. Lawyers. Financial services girls. The two trades banned forever from my search? Realtors and secretaries. Nothing good comes from under the thong of a real estate agent. They are the perpetually smiling bitches of the world, hating you while smiling sweetly. And don’t get me started on secretaries. I’d had my fill of bad luck with them in real life, I didn’t need to repeat the experience in my dating life. I was also wary of computer technician chicks and female engineers. The IT computer girls were usually behind the screen of a computer because the software did the same thing every day, it was foolishly consistent, but that gave them comfort. Here was where the sexually abused ended up, or the daughters of raging alcoholics, or the adopted females who found out how horrid their biological parents were, or the daughters of women who had committed suicide, or the other trauma cases. There they were, dancing with zeros and ones because dealing with people was so scary. Inevitably, the information technology girls would recoil in horror from both me and my traitorous penis, Tyrannosaurus Rex. Both of us were far too unpredictable and dangerous for them. (more…)