Maybe you’ve seen the commercials for eHarmony.com, the ones where the kindly looking old guy who invented the site pops up in the middle of happy young couples’ dates, proposals, and honeymoons. And he has a right to be proud. eHarmony is based on science—it uses a compatibility matching system that takes 29 different personality variables and uses them to figure out who you’re most likely to have a good relationship with.
eHarmony is very strict about its magical dating formula. The site only allows users to contact people “the system” has decided is a good match for them. But that takes time. Sometimes it can take weeks or even months for the site to find enough “dates” to justify the cost of membership, which is pretty steep, compared to the other sites out there.
If you want to see how eHarmony’s scientific magic works for you, here’s a tip: If you hold out for a little while, you’ll probably receive a whole bunch of emails down the line offering better prices—usually at the same time the site has found more potential matches for you to choose from.
I was only on eHarmony for three months before deleting my account. I hooked up with a guy I liked so much that I quit. But more on that later. It offers a whole buffet of unique services the other sites don’t have, like video chat. Plus, at the time I wrote this story, the site boasted more users in Canada than any other dating site in the world!
Maybe I should consider a move up North. This maybe is not such a bad idea considering our presidency right not but this isn't a story about politics....
Check out this genuine, eHarmony sanctioned date, and you be the judge. I found the guy I call Alejandro, after the Lady Gaga song of the same name. If you’ve heard the song, you might suspect this is another rather bittersweet tale if you've been following my stories.
It is. But I promise I’ll spare you the drunken, sobbing love poems I wrote to him after it all came to a tragic end.
Ohhhhh, Alejandro. The compatibility meter got it right that time—he was the one guy I fell for head over heels after my divorce. In fact, I think maybe, possibly, I was even in love with him. It was as though he put a spell on me: I was so incredibly emotionally and physically attracted to him, I couldn’t keep my mind (or my hands) off the guy. I got butterflies in my stomach every time I saw him, even after a few months.
If I had a checklist, Alejandro was the one guy who ticked all the boxes. Of course, he was exotic—Argentinean this time. I can’t seem to get enough of those Latin lovers. He was an ambitious entrepreneur who owned a bunch of clothing boutiques. He was smart, funny, and charming.
Oh yeah, and he had a motorcycle.
My first-ever motorcycle ride was on the back of Alejandro’s bike, my arms wrapped around his waist. He literally swept me off my feet—I’ll never forget the exhilarating sense of freedom as we flew down the Brooklyn Queens Expressway… Thinking I was going to die.
But I didn’t.
Then there was the time he decided to book a romantic weekend away in the Poconos. If you’re not from the East Coast, you might not be aware of Pennsylvania’s cheesy honeymoon haven—a mountain town filled with little cabin motels and inns that seem to be designed for the sole purpose of hosting creative, crazy sexual encounters.
Before we even reached our destination, I guessed that our room was going to have a floor-to-ceiling glass bathtub shaped like a champagne glass and a heart-shaped bed (I’d seen enough corny Poconos commercials in the 1980s to have some idea of what to expect).
And I was right!
Our cabin had it all: the red velvet interior, the heart-shaped bed (plus a heart-shaped pool!), and of course, the obligatory, sky-high champagne glass tub. When the room wasn’t booked, it was probably used as a set for porn videos.
We certainly found the space…inspiring.
After a few hours of indoor fun, we decided it was time to eat. Unfortunately, we showed up two hours after dinner service closed. The helpful kitchen lady threw some slimy green leftovers that resembled something I might step over on a New York street onto a plate.
Oh well. It wasn’t really about the food anyway.
The time Alejandro and I spent together was a blast. It seemed like eHarmony definitely earned their pricey membership fee, which was why I happily left the site as a satisfied customer.
As we crept closer to that crucial three-month mark, though, things started getting weird. Then, like all good things, it came to an end.
It wasn’t ugly or dramatic. We still talk occasionally. In fact, he recently shoved his tongue down my throat, which, I have to admit, helped with the healing process. Although it took a LOT of drunken sob poems to get there.
He even talks about the possibility of giving it another shot. I still get those butterflies every time I hear his voice, so you never know.
In the end, I learned a lot from dating Alejandro. I learned a lot about myself, and not only what I want in a guy (or what eHarmony’s magic compatibility survey thinks I want in a guy), but about life in general.
I also learned that I am a really, really crappy poet.
