I thought I was good. Really good. After all, my track record speaks for itself. My old neighbor in Santa Barbara was despondent and helpless. Recently divorced, she felt like her life was over, that no one would ever find her attractive. So, one night, I grabbed a bottle of wine and we sat in front of her computer writing her profile. “I don’t think I would have done this without you,” she told me as I proofread my incredible write up. Day One on Match she went out on a date and game over. She is still with the same guy (who is amazing) eight years later.
Perfect record. One for one.
So when a friend of mine in Greenwich wondered out loud if she would be alone the rest of her life, I was all confidence. “I've got you covered. Let me write your Match profile,” I told her. “I am really, really good at this.” To ensure authenticity she invited friends that knew her well and over the course of two bottles of wine, a lot of laughter and chatter, I wrote something I was convinced would maintain my perfect record. It was perfect and certain to attract equally perfect men.
A few days later, I ran into her on the street.
“How are the pings? Do you have enough time to answer them all?” I asked her with a knowing smile.
“Nothing,” she replied.
“Nothing?” I looked at her in complete shock. That was not the answer I was even remotely anticipating. “Nothing at all?”
“A lot of hits on the page, so I know I'm getting looked at and they're reading the profile, but no, no pings.”
Hmm..not one ping means something is wrong and it can't be her looks. Her pictures are amazing, reflecting how beautiful she is. So clearly it has to be the write up. But we all approved it that night. Even clapped at the finish. It's hard to admit but there's no other explanation, the writing isn't working.
It was time to call Mars. Venus needed some help, fast.
That night just after dinner, I hit on him. “Alpha, I know you are busy but I need you to look at this Match profile I wrote. Can you give me the male perspective? What do you think about this woman? Would you ask her out? Give her a ping?” I watched intently as he read it, and then re-read it. I didn't like the pursed lips on the re-read so I readied myself for the bad news.
“Yeah, no. I wouldn’t date her,” he said definitively.
“Why?” I asked. We wrote about being smart (educated at Harvard), and self-deprecating, and loved by her kids. All the stuff that makes a woman attractive.
“If she is so smart, why didn’t she see her marriage was falling apart? If she is self deprecating why is she telling me? She should make fun of herself about that. Plus she is really active and outside all the time, where is that in the profile? I never see her with makeup on, guys love that but the pictures don't show that side.”
Alpha rolled his sleeves up and went to work. In minutes, my soppy, negative, aloof victim tone was gone and what emerged was a happy, lively woman who was ready to have some fun with her life.
I sent it back to my friend noting, "Alpha thinks this is the way to go."
“OMG, this is me! How did he know?” she asked in the email.
It was a humbling moment. I looked at Alpha and he looked at me. I had been the writer when we first met 15 years ago. Now he writes all the time. And he has gotten good. Really good.
“You know what Alpha?”
“What?” he said.
“ Writing Match profiles for me really turns me on,” I told him. “Shows your sensitive side.”
“We make a good team.”
Even better the write up is working. My friend is getting pinged all the time. Team Peters is 2-2. I love that.