Sometime this winter, I answered a work-related email from a man I'll call Joe, whom I'd never met before. Joe responded in turn; he lived in New York, near me, and had some further questions. Suddenly, at the unpredictable pace with which attraction flares out of nowhere, our exchange became charged. Within an hour we went from professional niceties to quick-fire one-liners; we were teasing and playing and showing off our wittiest plumage. We were flirting. And I was Googling him, wondering: Who is this guy? Is he straight? Single? Hot? Hitting on me? Then came his invitation, "to take this to a bar where it belongs."
Before I could even work up a suitably piquant reply, I had another email in my inbox. It began, "Hello, I've added you to my Joe'sJournal group at Yahoo!" Joe'sJournal's "introductory message" to me read, "I hope you'll enjoy this. It's fun, if I do say so myself, and you can learn all about me before we meet!"
He wasn't kidding. Among the things I learned about Joe? He was planning a big party in the next couple of weeks, at which he'd be serving cucumber sandwiches made specially on spelt bread; that his seventy-year-old mother would be a guest, that she had just broken up with a boyfriend and had reactivated her eHarmony account, that she has a blog, that her blog is all about her dating life, and that her son's blog is all about her.
And with that, so many question marks surrounding my promising email exchange with Joe evaporated. Attraction? Squelched. Fun? Over. Mystery? Sucked dry. Curiosity? I know all I ever want to know, please do not write to me again, it's been real, good-bye and good luck.
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It's simply not hot when, after an evening of come-hither stares and maybe some foot frottage, you receive an email inviting you to visit ComeHither.com.
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There used to be few moments in the sexual universe better than those early, butterfly days of love . . . or lust . . . or like. Whether it was the did-I-imagine-it look over beers, the gaze held across a party, or suddenly saucy email banter, the pleasure leaping from belly down the legs was all about the lurching joy of early-stage discovery. The first acknowledgements of chemistry made way for the slow reveal, the hopefully languorous unfurling of personal intimacies: who are you, where are you from, what do you read, who do you do and how do you like to do it, where do you live, who do you love? These are the questions that determined how many ways I would be pulled toward a man or repelled by him as he began his transformation from stranger to fling, dud, or lead character in my romantic narrative.
Alas, no more. Gone are my days of lazily unwrapping new prospects like birthday presents, asking intrusive questions as seductively as possible over brunches and lengthy drinks.
Nope. These days, you can't swing a cat in this town without hitting a boy with a blog . . . or a chat group, or listserv, or food diary, family website, online poetry monograph, or collection of unpublished photos of meerkat babies accompanied by a lengthy bio that he is eager to share with you, the stranger he's just met.
One of the soul-squooshing truths of computer-age congress is the speed with which we can turn up information on people we're curious about. It's useful, I guess, if you're trying to screen for convicted stalkers or major Republican donors, but not so much if you're hoping to preserve even a bit of enthralling mystery about your latest catch.
It's simply not hot when, after an evening of come-hither stares and maybe some foot frottage, you receive an email inviting you to visit ComeHither.com, "a random collection of thoughts on life and love!" Random thoughts on life and love are the crap you put up with — happily, perhaps — once you've decided that Mr. Hither fascinates you so much that you'd like to temporarily bind your own life and love to his. Until then, they are just embarrassing journal entries guaranteed to tamp the flames of desire.
Trust me, it happens all the time. Joe's mommy-and-me tea party wasn't even unique enough to be intriguing; at about the same time, a friend received an email blast from a guy with whom she'd been on two dates, advertising his blog about his elderly mother's adventures on JDate. (Perhaps there's a another story to be done about single guys' online investment in their single mothers' online sex lives, but I hope never to be the one with enough experience to write it.)
  
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17 Comments
ea commented on 03/12hello, pot, you're talking about a bunch of kettles, and you're way too judgmental and bitchy. the saddest part is that you're one in a million of sad, judgmental, bitchy women who use the internet as a career or nearly full time hobby and then condemn others for their use in it.
ccj commented on 03/12@ea - I think this is more about the 'too much information' aspect of blogs. Sharing your life online is fine, just consider how well you know the invitee. On a first date, would you recite poetry about your ex, or bust out your baby pictures? I hope not. And this certainly applies to women as well.
PO commented on 03/12Yeesh, ea, bitter much? There's an "off" switch to this thing if you don't like it, you know...
ct commented on 03/12I like this but there is one glaring question that comes to mind...if finding out too much info, too soon is a bad thing (I agree it is), why the hell are you googling these people?
ap commented on 03/12ct: totally what i was gonna say. isn't googling someone kinda creepy and wrong? i mean, how little faith do you have in your character judgement to feel the need to ask the Big Electronic Oracle about everyone you plan to have a wee drink with?
Dan commented on 03/12a) I want to point out that that Dan isn't me, and b) it easily could be.
MS commented on 03/12Yeah, I can't help but feel like on some level, anyone who has ANY internet presence in which they detail their various comings and goings (i.e., twitter, blogs, facebook, etc.) is suffering from some mild to severe form of narcissism that is ultimately a wonderful red-flag to pay mind to. Though I realize I'm maybe on the further end of the spectrum when it comes to this kind of thinking. True story: a couple of years ago I met a beautiful woman at a party. I got her number and went home drunkenly and stared at it while chain-smoking. In a moment of shameful impulsiveness, I "googled" her. Nothing. I actually had to wait a day or two, call her, meet her, get to know her, and develop feelings toward her. She's now my wife. True story. Those of us without internet "personalities" are out there, and we attract our own, God-willing.
js commented on 03/12Funny and well written article, but the irony is - by choosing the career path of "writer," and by writing for online publications, you have insured that anyone who googles YOU will also be bombarded with TMI...I GUESS there's a distinction to be made between blog posts and personal essays? Maybe?
os commented on 03/12mystery is overrated
MS commented on 03/12Yeah, I can't help but feel like on some level, anyone who has ANY internet presence in which they detail their various comings and goings (i.e., twitter, blogs, facebook, etc.) is suffering from some mild to severe form of narcissism that is ultimately a wonderful red-flag to pay mind to. Though I realize I'm maybe on the further end of the spectrum when it comes to this kind of thinking. True story: a couple of years ago I met a beautiful woman at a party. I got her number and went home drunkenly and stared at it while chain-smoking. In a moment of shameful impulsiveness, I "googled" her. Nothing. I actually had to wait a day or two, call her, meet her, get to know her, and develop feelings toward her. She's now my wife. True story. Those of us without internet "personalities" are out there, and we attract our own, God-willing.
MS commented on 03/12Yeah, I can't help but feel like on some level, anyone who has ANY internet presence in which they detail their various comings and goings (i.e., twitter, blogs, facebook, etc.) is suffering from some mild to severe form of narcissism that is ultimately a wonderful red-flag to pay mind to. Though I realize I'm maybe on the further end of the spectrum when it comes to this kind of thinking. True story: a couple of years ago I met a beautiful woman at a party. I got her number and went home drunkenly and stared at it while chain-smoking. In a moment of shameful impulsiveness, I "googled" her. Nothing. I actually had to wait a day or two, call her, meet her, get to know her, and develop feelings toward her. She's now my wife. True story. Those of us without internet "personalities" are out there, and we attract our own, God-willing.
BZ commented on 03/12I have read different renditions of this same article on Hooksexup several times over the last couple of years and the subject is getting a little stale. We all know the information is out there, more for some people than others. If you want mystery, don't go searching. And frankly, the very presence of an on-line journal (web page, FB, Blog, Twitter feed, etc.) that is all about the prospective date (as opposed to commenting on science, culture, news, politics, etc.) would be enough to dissuade me from pursuing a relationship, regardless of the contents.
jk commented on 03/12I'm calling bullshit. This woman apparently has met half the male bloggers in cyberspace, this story sounds completely exaggerated,. At best, she is hanging out at the tooliest parties in Park Slope.
ig commented on 03/12I read this on Salon 6 months- 1 year ago. why does Hooksexup keep recycling articles (and a lot from it's own website)??
JLF commented on 03/13It's because Hooksexup used to be a great site with great writing, but now they cannot hold up the monster web-site they've created. Insightful sex writing is hard to come by and the machine can no longer identify it.
CD commented on 03/13seriously, is there anyone in country of u, s and a who does not blog?! that is the lasting impression of this piece.
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