My Cyber-Search for Love. Or Booty.
This part three in a series of undercover reports on the state of Internet dating today. If you don't want to read the whole thing, I'll just say that in the words of the great B. Simpson, "I didn't think it was physically possible, but this both sucks and blows."

Date Four: Jeff the Lawyer Guy, 28, lawyer guy.

Trying To Impress Me Doesn't Impress Me
I'll just say up front that this was a pity date. Jeff was the first guy I replied to who didn't have a photo up. Normally I ignore the guys without pictures because I assume that in this day and age, the only reason you wouldn't have one online is because you know that you face isn't your strong point. Still, he put together a good email, seemed to be cool and witty without being obnoxious, and having dated several starving artists and students, I thought it could be fun to go out with a guy who made a lot of money.

After a couple more emails though I finally said I would feel better seeing a photo, just to see if he had like a Mike Tyson face tattoo or something else that would put the fear of God into me. He sent one, and while I was hoping that he wouldn't really look like Ross from Friends like he said he did, after a quick look I decided that he was flattering himself with a comparison to David Schwimmer. If I had to make my own comparison, I think I'd pick Lumpy from Leave It to Beaver. But I knew there would be no beaver for this guy.

I was ready to delete his emails and be done with it, but then I read the horribly pathetic message that came with the photo. "If you don't want to write to me again after you see the picture, that's ok. I still think you're a really cool girl." Well duh. Of course I am. And believe it or not, I'm not made of stone, and I felt sort of bad for the guy. I figured the least I could do was let him take me out, spend his lawyer money on me and be treated to a couple of hours with the kind of woman he can only dream of having.

And Did I Mention He Owns a Condo?
Lawyer Jeff picked a fairly chic Mexican restaurant on Newbury Street in Boston for our rendezvous. He said it was a good place because it wasn't far from the condo he just bought last year. Because he bought a condo with all his money. It's a nice condo, good location for a condo. He wants to get a new car soon too, after he's paid off a little more on his condo.

I get it. You're stable, wealthy, and you own a condo. Whoopdee-freaking-doo.

We met, I wasn't disappointed because I never expected to be impressed, we ate, we chatted, I was fascinating and charming; and even though I was the young, foolish, unemployed free-spirit, he's the one who I have to think was left feeling like he was missing out on life.

The Tally
Pros: Enough about this guy. Let's talk about me and how great I am. Spending some time with Jeff made me realize what a really amazing catch I am. Honestly, the more of these dates I go on, the more my confidence grows. I used to be nervous that the guys would judge me by my goofy jokes or find fault with my appearance, maybe think I'm too fat or something ridiculous. But now I know. They would give anything to have a girlfriend as saucy and playful and generally groovalicious as I am. I'm downright sexy. I'm one bad mama jama. I've become a dating monster, ego higher than my black leather boots, ready to stomp out each man's hopes and leave him empty and deflated, ashamed that he thought his sad little life and pathetic excuse for a personality could have tempted me. Think you can keep my interest? Think your boring law school stories and knowledge of the "alternative" local music scene are enough to seduce me? Think again Sweater Boy.

And oh, he paid for dinner. Nice place too, must have cost him a bundle. At least he had his condo to go home to. I'm sure they'll be very happy together.

Cons: None really. Being treated like a princess for a couple of hours was better than staying in and watching all of this nonsense war coverage, and on the way home I bought myself some chocolate and peanut butter cup ice cream. All-in-all a good night, but I'm crossing lawyers off my list for good. I think money makes men boring. They use it as a substitute for character, but you can't buy me, love.