The 15 Minute Dating Blog

by E. Tracy Coker.

After several weeks of searching through the internet dating site I subscribed to, “Carl” (whose name has been changed) sent me a little message saying hello; from his profile and the things he said, he seemed like a nice guy. After a few days of e-mailing and a single phone call, Carl asked me to meet him at a subway station for a first date.

I was looking forward to this date. Carl not only seemed enthusiastic to meet me, but he was intelligent and seemingly down to Earth, as well. The real test was going to see if he looked anything like his picture.

I was a college student looking for a stable and loving relationship. He was a college graduate staying in Boston to attend dental school with the desire of becoming a dentist and opening his own practice. I’m no gold digger, but what girl doesn’t love an ambitious suitor?

Standing outside of the subway entrance, I watched people passing by, anxiously wondering which one of them would be Carl; finally, he emerged. He was handsome, just the right height for me, and I could feel our chemistry click. What I relief! Or so I thought.

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Popularity: 14% [?]

by Jason Nellis.

A warning to men everywhere: Don’t be stupid. I’ll be the first to admit, I am not, nor can I ever be, the perfect date or boyfriend. In fact, sometimes, I’ve been downright moronic. Chalk it up to being male (a commonly-blamed attribute), young (though this tends to shift—the older I get, the younger I claim to be), or impetuous (or, really, more like ADD, because—hey, look, a kitty cat!). Whatever the case may be, I’m not without faults. Most of the time, I end up getting myself into heaps of trouble by ignoring them rather than admitting to them.

Let me explain:

At the beginning of my junior year of college, I met a girl named Deanna. She was a freshman straight out of the South, twang and all. She was only four foot eleven, so I towered about a foot over her, but I found that more endearing than funny. She also called me on whatever BS I happened to be spewing (usually when I made outrageous claims to get attention, like “I invented the stapler.” I’m like that sometimes).

She was very cute, and I was very interested. So, of course, I made a move.

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Popularity: 5% [?]

by Katy Franklin.

You know how, in all those magazines on the stands today, there’s a whole bunch of celebrity worship and gossip, and they kind of make you feel like: a) you could never be a celebrity, and/or b) as a normal human being, you could never be cool enough to come close to dating one. That’s the vibe I get from those publications. But then, if you’ve ever paid enough attention (which, I unashamedly, admittedly have,) every once in awhile, you’ll find that someone really famous is dating someone really “normal.” Nicolas Cage dated and married his sushi waitress. Matt Damon married the girl who was his bartender at a club. Sure, it happens. But not very often. I was definitely skeptical about the reality of these situations until my sister, (we’re going to call her Annabelle) recently dated someone pretty famous (we’re going to call him Brad.)

Now please understand that I do not consider my sister “normal” by any means. She is 24 years old and drop-dead gorgeous. In physical appearance, she rivals any celebrity out there. She’s also extremely intelligent, easy to talk to, bubbly and fascinating, so it’s really no wonder somebody so well-known would have been interested in her. She works as an executive assistant to a very powerful entertainment agent in New York City so she meets a lot of famous people through her job.

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by Andy Cowan.

WHY does perpetuating the species seem to hinge on hooking up with a person who inevitably has at least one major character flaw? Maybe it’s because if you stumbled upon someone who was absolutely perfect, you’d die.

But what if you lived? Like a dog chasing a car, would you even know what to do at the end of the chase?

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Popularity: 2% [?]

by Deb Preece.

I have been on-line dating for years and my experiences have been everything from instant infatuation to the most horrendous escape out a bathroom window you could possibly have imagined. The one date that comes to my mind was a dance I was meeting a gentleman at whom I had spoken with on line. We had a most wonderful time and after we escaped up into the canyons of Utah for a view of a waterfall and a couple of “smooches”. He took me back to my car (which by the way had just had its breaks done the day before the 50 mile travel to meet my new “beau”).

Driving home, dressed in black hose, red (sexy to say the least) dress and 2 inch heels, I was approaching a light, when all of a sudden the left front tire of my car falls of, sparks are flying everywhere, my car axel is dragging on the ground going 40 miles per hour, and my tire proceeds to roll across the center of the street, across the opposite traffic and down an embankment. I slam on my breaks and for a moment really wondered what had just happened. As I got my wits about me, I opened my door and saw that my tire had actually fallen off my car. Of course, with my deep knowledge of tire and car repair (if it can’t be fixed with a band aid and a pair of high heels, I’m in trouble). I just stood in the middle of University Avenue at 1:30 AM in the morning and started to cry.

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Popularity: 3% [?]

This internet dating story by Wired Magazine has all the makings of a psychotic movie, complete with romance, jealousy, and murder.

Thomas Montgomery, a 45-year-old husband of 16 years and father of two teenage girls was living out a fantasy by pretending to be Tommy, a 19 year old marine who was getting ready to ship out to Iraq and who stood 6 feet tall.

In a chat room on Pogo.com, he met Jessi, an 17-year-old West Virginia girl, with whom he completely fell in love with. What little did Montgomery know was that Jessi was really Jessi’s mom who was using her daughter’s IM account.

The two really hit it off online. Tommy proposed to Jessi after eight months of instant messaging every day and speaking on the phone. Jessi accepted and sent Tommy G-Strings. In a strange New Year’s Eve resolution, Montgomery wrote on his note : “On January 2, 2006, Tom Montgomery (46 years old) ceases to exist and is replaced by an 18-year-old battle-scarred marine”.

Cindy, Montgomery’s wife in real life, eventually found out about the secret stash of G-Strings and her husband’s affair with Jessi. She immediately contacted Jessi and sent her family pictures of Montgomery in order to show that “Tommy” doesn’t really exist.

After Jessi found out about the real “Tommy” she became distraught and contacted Brian Barrett, a poker friend of Montgomery’s who also frequented Pogo.com. She wanted to verify about the truth about “Tommy”, which Brian confirmed that “Tommy” was indeed a fake.

Now this is where the plot thickens, for some reason the disappointed Jessi actually started an online romance with Brian, perhaps to fill her void over the loss of “Tommy”.

Montgomer eventually found out about the new relationship between Jessi and Brian. He was fill with so much Jelousy and rage that he brought a gun to work and shot Brian 3 times.

“…Ken Case, the assistant district attorney who worked on the case, said, “He was a guy who prior to this happening was a very dedicated father. To make that much of a transformation, as a result of communicating with a fictitious person, is pretty frightening.”…”

The article was surprisingly engaging and fairly well written. It even comes with complete detail IM transcripts between the 3 involved parties.

Here’s the link to the full article.

An IM Infatuation Turned to Romance. Then the Truth Came Out.

Now, for those who are involved in an internet romance, are you really sure your IM partner is really who they say they are?

Popularity: 2% [?]

by Erin Steiner.

The other night I was making dinner when, from the other room, I heard my boyfriend say “Welcome to Warsong Gulch.” I paused, halfway bent into the oven and thought to myself, “Why do I know that name?” I flipped through my mental rolodex of places that it might be but couldn’t find a visual to match. I knew I’d heard that name before and the words brought up a vaguely Chernobyl-ish picture, but I knew that had to be wrong. I must have stood there for a good fifteen minutes, driving myself crazy, trying to figure out where on the planet Warsong Gulch was located. After all, if the name was so familiar, there must be a reason. Finally, I went into the other room and asked my boyfriend “Where is Warsong Gulch?”

Turning around, and looking at me with what can only be described as an incredulous look on his face, he said “Um. It’s a place on my game?” His voice said “how the heck do you know about Warsong Gulch?”

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