Atomic Sex

Forget self-esteem and the perfect shirt. If you will get lucky tonight is all in the numbers. So figure out the chances and place your bets wisely.

Peter Backus used a fancy dancy equation to figure out how many girls he could conceivably be matched with in Greater London (answer 26). I’m sure he then used the equation to get in girls pants as we all know how carefully applied digits get girls into a tizzy. It’s sort of the logical romantic comedy for the lovelorn nerd type.

The problem with these tests is they don’t allow for the sheer sneak up and surprise you attraction that makes for some of the best relationships. Imagine all the people you pass by because they don’t fit the criteria of what we think we want. At a recent wedding a friend who married her online dating beau kept repeating: “Just imagine if I had told the truth and said I hated dogs…I would have never met Guy. But the truth is I absolutely LOVE his dogs. Who would’ve known?”

Jaron Lanier’s article about our faith in web technologies got me thinking about how absurd this all is. Just like we’ve changed our idea of what a “friend” is so we don’t look like a social pariah we’re changing how we understand ourselves, what we are attracted to and what we can attract so the information can fit social networking sites, online dating profiles and in the above example, the Drake equation.  Computing technology isn’t smarter than me (yet) when it comes to the game of getting laid.  I hate when Microsoft Word anticipates me wanting to make a list since that’s rarely what I am actually doing. So how could I ignore the limitations computing style technology puts on my desire?

The fact is none of these practices are centred around humans and diminish the possibility for the creativity and unforeseen specialness that can ignite the most passionate of affairs. Imagine when you finally met the mathematical partner of our dreams. It would probably be even more of a letdown than that the last person you met thanks to the chemistry quiz from plentyoffish.

I propose a Thursday date around 9:30 pm at a chic cocktail bar:

“Besides being between 24-35, female, university educated and a resident of Montreal. What do you do?” Asked Leon.

“I like to play with my dogs, travel and paint ceramics.” Answered Sheri while playing with the condensation on her martini glass.

“I am allergic to dogs.” Leon was aghast but tried to stay in stride with a quick throwaway joke: “Well those interests would be tough to put into the equation.”

The humour was lost on Sheri.

“So you are like 1 in 26.” Leon wished he took back the complement the moment he gave it away. He was never a generous sort.

“Well, you are like 1 in 15.”

“Oh so you’re more picky. Is that what you are saying?”

“I guess.” Sheri was looking over Leon’s shoulder scoping the room in case one of the 14 other guys was in the bar tonight.

“Is this a fuck date?”

They didn’t order another round. And then there were 25 and 14 potential partners.