Narcissus of the internet

A dating profile is a mysterious thing. Mostly an outline, like a tracing of the real thing, it is often vague and always partial. Occasionally, though, it acts like a projective test, the profiler unwittingly revealing a lot more than he imagines.

And then sometimes it’s just plain bad, with shocking grammar (so I’m a stickler, but you know by now that I’m a bit anal), a clichéd turn of phrase (I want to meet someone who will make me whole again) or a mean-spiritedness which still manages to take my breath away. I guess I can sort of deal with “no fats or femmes”. It’s harsh but it’s honest. The penis is not politically correct I always say, it likes what it likes (yes I know it’s not a person but really it does sometimes have a life of its own).

But then you get the profile which seems to be written by the bitter or the arrogant, or, and this is my favourite, the bitter and arrogant!

“If you see this as a chance to find someone who’s going to pay for everything, forget it. I’ve worked damn hard for what I’ve got, so no spongers please.”

Ouch, whatever happened to putting your best foot forward, holding back just a tad on the cynicism until you’ve got to know someone?

Or how about this? “I am very good looking, I like only the finer things in life and I am considered to be witty and intelligent.”

Yes and please explain, Narcissus, why you’re trawling the internet for someone if you’re so fabulous? Here’s a piece of free advice from a shrink. Read your profile out loud before you upload it, do an edit for language, try to imagine how the average person might actually perceive it. Better still, pass it by a friend first.

But gosh, how stupid of me. If arrogant Andy and bitter Bradley had the insight to do this, would they be writing such crap in the first place? Sadly, insight, humility and sensitivity are not to be readily found in these profiles.

Instead of insight we get pop psychology and in the place of humility, rudeness masquerading as confidence. As for sensitivity, well let’s just say you’re more likely to find a micropenis at a sex club than a delicately drawn profile on gaydar. Apart from mine of course, and I can confidently say that in all humility.