Dating site photos are very often unflattering. They are. Oh, sure, I know plenty of people post the glamour shot pictures or that "one picture that I really, really like/captures the essence of me" on their dating profiles---even if the picture is twenty-five years old and they haven't looked even close to that since the '90s---but so many of the pictures are truly hideous. They're cell phone pictures. They're cropped from a work photo featuring 200 colleagues and are grainy and blurry. They're taken by someone who has my skill level of photography, AKA no skill at all. I really try not to judge a potential date/mate based on his picture. It's not fair. It's not right. And even if the picture is accurate, it's the book-by-its-cover thing. I know I don't like it when someone takes one look at me and can't even be bothered to learn anything about me.
It's only fair to give people a chance. After all, most of the planet isn't mouthwateringly gorgeous.
But...at some point I must say, "Gosh, you seem super, but I have a small problem dating a yeti."
I even had gluten-free Jen look at one man's profile and emails. Words like "sweet" and "simple" were used, but even she [possibly one of the nicest people on the planet] had to agree, this fellow made the Geico cavemen look civilized and...well, hot.
She did ask where we'd go on a date, snowshoeing through the Andes? Obviously, GF Jen has been married way too long, because you never travel that far on the first date. If Yeti and I did go out, it would have to be closer to home. Possibly a nearby forest. We could do a little foraging, like pigs for truffles. But the Andes? I don't even know if he'd have all of his shots and tags for international travel. And a kennel for that long a flight...not fun. Not comfortable.
But as usual, I digress.
I feel a little bad, being this judgemental. Not bad enough to stop, but bad.
Oh, my dear invisible friend, my dear fictional reader, I implore you. If you are in a relationship, and nothing too ghastly is occurring there, do what you can to make it work. Do not join me in this morass of single life, this level of hell called dating. In this case, the grass is not greener.