One gay man’s journey through the minefield of Internet dating

by Vincent James Arcuri

I’ve always been opposed to joining an online matchmaking website. I’d heard all about the tawdry hookups and clicked through these online meat markets, with their plethora of revealing photos, but Robert, my 27-year-old co-worker, assured me that Connexion.org was different. He described the site as “a great tool” for meeting people with no tools on display; it was the 21st-century bar scene and the best way to find a date.

I didn’t mind being single; in fact I enjoyed it, especially after a tumultuous four-year relationship, but truth be told, I needed a little companionship and well, OK fine—I needed some action! The thought of posting photos, writing witty little tidbits and marketing myself online seemed bizarre and a bit unsettling. But almost everyone I knew was meeting men and hooking up online; it was obvious the dating landscape had changed. So after a month of procrastination and celibacy, I swallowed my pride and entered the online dating realm—in hopes of finding something else to swallow.

Compiling my Connexion.org profile was a daunting task; besides the standard info, you’re asked whether you’re seeking friends, a date, a long-term relationship or “activity partners.” I wasn’t sure if that meant someone to go bike riding with or just someone to ride, so I perused the existing profiles for guidance. I became instantly intimidated. Almost every profile read the same: “Masculine, in-shape, interested in football, snowboarding or camping.” Was this really a gay website? Where were all the dudes who were into interior design, Madonna and Saturday night dance parties?

Then there was the photo gallery. After spending hours digging through pictures, I selected my best shots. Trust me, this process was as intense as an episode of America’s Next Top Model, especially when you consider that 75 percent of the Connexion members feature themselves shirtless. Well, I still had the “relationship 15,” and my daily gym routine had only just begun, so posting a shirtless shot was not an option. It didn’t take long, though, to realize that without the obligatory six-pack on display, my suitors would be few and far between.

Don’t get me wrong: I’m a good-looking guy in his mid-30s with a collection of cute pictures, but without showing some skin, I was classified as “adorable.” Usually, I’d be thrilled with “adorable,” but when “adorable” attracts mostly men over 50 or boys under 21, it’s not a good thing. It was apparent I needed to be more aggressive, so I started e-mailing guys that piqued my interest to introduce myself—after all, weren’t we supposed to be connecting? While I’d often receive no reply, I, on the other hand, felt compelled to respond to everyone who e-mailed me, but quickly learned that even a simple, delicate brush-off would then elicit further unwanted attention. Couldn’t these guys read between the lines? Or were they just like me—grateful that someone, anyone, actually responded to their message?

It seemed like everyone in West Hollywood was part of the Connexion community, including a few of my friends, but there was very limited connecting. After a few months, that began to change, leading mostly to some unique encounters. There was Chuck, who showed up on our third date with a Cartier commitment bracelet, and confessed he needed sex every single day but didn’t always use protection; Stephen, who spent our entire date ruminating about my ex, who he also just happened to date; Thomas, who was obsessed with all things macabre and owned an extensive collection of antique voodoo dolls; and Keith, who sported a 666 tattoo.

One of the site’s most popular features is that it blatantly tabulates how many views your profile receives per day, and even provides a “Profile Graph” that tracks your weekly progress. You can compare yourself to your friends to see who’s on top, which usually ends up being the shirtless bottom. Then there’s the “Most Viewed” page, which displays images of the 110 most-viewed men in your area, of which 90 percent appear either shirtless or in a Speedo. I started thinking this site was nothing more than a popularity contest. Then, one evening while out for dinner, I overheard an athletic, good-looking guy in his early-40s talking to his friend about Connexion. He proudly professed to posting a few shirtless shots, and admitted that when he felt depressed or dissatisfied with his perfect physique, he logged on and within minutes received close to 25 views. Once he felt validated, he’d log off.

So, now 15 pounds thinner, I decided to conduct a little experiment and joined the club. I posted my own shirtless image, and within 20 minutes of flashing some flesh, I obtained 13 views. Suddenly I went from averaging 5-10 views per day to being clicked on and cruised by more than 50 men a day. A few friends e-mailed to congratulate me on my new look; a strapping stud in New Jersey e-mailed to say he wanted to bottom for me (too bad he was 3,000 miles away); and a 300-lb. depressed dude in northern California asked me to cheer him up. I didn’t score a date, or even improve my connection ratio, but my new photo did secure me a coveted spot on the “Most Viewed” page, which seemed to be the goal for Connexion users.

Mission accomplished—I guess.

The truth is, I don’t really care how popular I am, or need to show the world what’s underneath my clothes; I’m just looking to meet a decent guy to date. So, maybe the Internet matchmaking world isn’t for me. Or maybe I should conduct one more experiment: So, if you’re seriously looking to meet an “adorable,” brown-haired, blue-eyed, all-American guy in his mid-30s, I’ll be on Manhunt, Adam4Adam and maybe even Craigslist.

Just don’t expect to see my private parts—those are saved for real connections.