Zoosk-ing AroundElite Singles, last week I decided to join Zoosk as well. The signup process for Zoosk was much simpler than that of Elite Singles, and creating my profile consisted of only a few basic questions about myself (height, body type, smoker/nonsmoker, interests…etc.) and a handful of preferences. This provided an interesting contrast. Elite Singles offers a fairly detailed description of each match, but Zoosk only allows you to learn more about a match by communicating with them via chat.
That was fine by me since I’m quite outgoing by nature and prefer conversing back and forth rather than just reading a match’s profile. This has always been a point of debate between me and some of my close friends; they’d rather get as much information about a viable date as possible before even uttering a greeting. I–on the other hand–care more about how a guy chooses which information to share with me first and how he chooses to share it.
Reading a set of publicly answered questions on a dating profile strikes me as a little too impersonal when looking for intimacy. Additionally, I have learned from plenty of experience that the inflections of a man’s speech and the variations in his vocal register and facial expressions tell a lot more about his nature and persona than what he’s actually saying.
The Zoo in Zoosk
Because of the aforementioned differences between Elite Singles and Zoosk, I fully expected to receive more chats on the latter. And still, I was blown away…
Within virtually two minutes of setting up my Zoosk subscription, I received my first wink before calling it a night. Imagine my shock the next morning when I logged in to find no less than a dozen messages. I was naturally quite thrilled that the process of communication on Zoosk seemed a lot faster than on Elite Singles, and there seemed to be a lot more users (throughout my two to three weeks on Elite Singles so far, I have chatted with a total of nine men).
Unfortunately, though, my excitement fizzled within minutes. At least half of the dozen messages I’d received on Zoosk contained sleazy references to my appearance and wholly obnoxious invitations to come “party.” Then, there were the painfully cheesy ones:
love to jog: your beauty is like a rare vintage of the finest quality aged to perfection.
After I internally winced, I tried to formulate the least offensive sarcastic reply I could think of before finally deciding to simply be honest:
me: I don’t mean to be rude, but that’s an incredibly cheesy thing to say to a stranger.
love to jog: you’re a kid. your generation thinks everything cheesy.
me: you mean “is” cheesy? why do you think so?
love to jog: so you’re going to correct me and you’re half my age? kids these days can’t even write in cursive. I learned in kindergarten.
I didn’t bother to reply since his argument seemed both nonsensical and totally unrelated to his horribly trite opening remark. I wish I could say he was the worst. Suffice it to say, love to jog and I are just not meant to be.
But despite the surplus of users who have a penchant for making unsavory comments, I have found that there are just as many users who seem genuine, interesting and truly looking for love. I’m definitely not writing Zoosk off just yet.