By Dustin Curry

Contributing Writer

Breakups are bad.

People respond to breakups in different ways. Some people cry a lot and others spend time curled up in bed in a dark room, while others lose their appetite and stop eating.

I responded to my most recent breakup by doing all of these things at once coupled with hard liquor and Johnny Cash’s “Hurt” on repeat.

For three weeks.

When I finally crawled back into the everyday grind, my friends emphasized the importance of doing something to help me take my mind off my ex.

I tried everything from journaling to coloring books to emotional impulse tattoos (it was a dark time).

Eventually, one of my friends suggested online dating.

Online dating is, of course, the less expensive, creepier alternative to picking up a date at a bar.

I approached the world of dating sites with the same kind of hesitation one feels when the toilet clogs at a party and there isn’t a plunger nearby and you begin to realize that the only way to make it out of there with any level of social dignity is to shove your hand into the bowl and unclog that monster.

I started by looking for the dating site that would work best for me. Many people start out with the generic Match.com or eHarmony.

PlentyofFish was promising; even its title (referring to the adage “There’s plenty of fish in the sea”) gave me hope…until I realized that most of these other “fish” were just as slimy, scaly and ugly as their namesake.

ChristianMingle claims that it’s innocent, but we all know it’s just a place for Christians to go to get some Jesus-approved poontang.

After I had settled on a site, I began working on a proper username—something that really told my matches about me.

For instance, SirSticky, skidmark1986, TulsaFootLover and PaulShagNasty are examples of very bad ideas.

I was able to change my username at any time, so there was no pressure, but I wanted to make sure the name represented my outlook on my internet love life. I settled on the name Crumpet.

I filled out a series of online forms that would appear as content on my dating profile. Some of them were basic, such as “What is you’re your idea of a perfect first date?” and “What is your ideal vacation spot?”

Other questions, however, began to reach borderline creepy: “What do you think when you hear the word ‘cell?’” and “In a certain light, wouldn’t cannibalism be exciting?”

I finally came to a rather simple, yet vague question. “Are you positive or negative?”

I remembered the endearing words of one of my closest friends, “Always think positive.” So I clicked the “+” and moved on.

I uploaded some profile pictures, making sure to show off a tasteful amount of skin and wrote the “About Me” section of my profile. The “About Me” is so incredibly important, since it is the first thing most users see after they look at your profile picture.

Unfortunately, every single “About Me” paragraph I’ve ever read looks exactly the same and uses the same stereotypical formula, so who am I to go against precedent?

“Gosh, what do I say in this thing? I’m a laid back, down-to-earth guy who is very energetic and fun-loving. I like all types of music and I love to laugh.

“I work hard and play harder. I’m looking for a relationship, but anything else will do. 😉 Sense of humor is a must. Send me a message—I don’t bite! I promise! LOL!”

I spent the next few hours fielding a smattering of messages from rather plain, unimpressive locals who happened to notice my new profile.

What I soon realized was that, for some reason, no matter where you live, the attractive people always live at least 50 miles away and will not respond to your messages.

The people who live within driving distance and who do message you will always be the most vulgar, shallow, sex-driven human scum ever conceived.

These people’s profile pictures looked like screenshots from “The Hills Have Eyes.” Seriously, these people look like someone at the family reunion said “The gene pool’s a Jacuzzi, everybody in!”

The next few weeks were spent hopelessly messaging sub-par individuals and going on dates that seemed to get exponentially worse every time I would go out.

With a lump in my throat and a weight on my chest, I realized that online dating may never get me out of the shadow of my ex.

So, I did as many others do in this situation: I went to drown my troubles at the local watering hole.

Two hours and three drinks later, I wasn’t feeling any better, and even the bartender was getting tired of hearing me whine.

As I rested my head against the worn wood grain of the bar, I heard a new voice come from a few stools down.

“Rough day?” the smooth voice said. I looked up and into a pair of the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen.

“Rough year,” I replied with a heavy sigh. “I’m another failure of the online dating world.”

“Oh, I see,” said the stranger, smiling with a healthy, white grin.

“I tried the dating sites. It never was my thing. I realized that you can’t find a relationship with a photo and a profile. You have to want to love SOMEbody…not just someBODY.”

For a moment, I was speechless as I let those words sink in.

“I never thought about it that way,” I remarked as a feeling began to return to my chest that I thought I had forgotten.

We sat there in almost beautiful peace as the rest of the bar seemed to fade away.

Finally, I smiled for the first time in weeks, cocked my head and asked, “Can I buy you a drink?”