I’m not sure when it happened, but we’ve transitioned into a culture where we think people are about as unique and valuable as used cars.

Want proof? Check out PlentyOfFish.com. Plenty of Fish is a free online dating website.

Yours truly, being of sound mind and judgement, signed up to find some cool new people to become friends with (and by extension, maybe a spark or two). I started by writing out a thorough profile for myself – a solid four or five paragraph description of me and what I was looking for. Having spent a good hour on it, and uploading some great pictures of myself, I figured I was ready – and I started my search. What I found was not what I expected.

Aside from the 1% of what has to be brain damage-induced CAPS LOCK-ONLY PROFILES or people who can’t discern the difference between its/it’s and they’re/their/there, about 98% of the profiles fall under what I affectionately refer to as, “Used Car Classifieds”.

Almost every girl in this category describes herself with, “I love to dress up and go out, but I also love to hang out at home. I love my friends and my family and I love to laugh.” Great. You’ve just described almost any human. These girls usually also describe themselves with a short paragraph (as short as possible, usually) with the most generic BS you can imagine. How the hell do I start a conversation from, “I like music and cats” ?

That’s not the kind of stuff I want to know. I want to know the crazy shit you don’t tell anyone else… what’s the worst thing you’ve ever done? If we’re on a date and you have gas, do you let it loose and blame the waiter? (for the record: awesome) What songs do you sing in the shower? What kinds of flowers will cause you to punch me in the junk? You know, the important things in life.  Holy hell, just tell me the truth, even if it sucks – that’s how I live my life.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to be a jerk or a snob… but, really – what girl can’t be described with “warm, friendly, loves to laugh, and loves to hang out with friends”? Some of these girls post generic, far-off photos or photos of them and their best friend – so you have no idea whether the girl you’re going to converse with is the cute redhead with eyes greener than the plains of Scotland or the snaggletoothed hunchback who may or may not be her brother.

I’ve never been concerned with looks – first and foremost I’m attracted to a great laugh – but sonofabitch, I’m not a small guy. If our combined weight is going to bottom-out my car, I should at least have some advance warning.

What ends up happening is, with so many “average” listings, you end up looking for the different ones. The ones that don’t smile in their pictures; you know, the ones that talk about stuff like black magic, sacrificing goats, and drinking the blood of their enemies (especially that bitch Sally from 3rd grade!) In essence, you’re now delighted by Edsels and Pintos. “So, is murder just a hobby or your full time profession?”

Worse still, the girls who only love to talk about themselves (and have tricked you into thinking they took a long time to write their profile) – these girls will ask one question to your three, leading you to believe they’re interested in learning about you. Instead, they’ve lured you into their narcissistic chasm of despair that can only be escaped from when you realize they’re about as deep as Deimos’s gravity well (you could literally sneeze yourself into orbit).

When you -do- discover the rare girl who has done a great job writing her profile, you have to contain your excitement so you don’t scare her off. Plenty of Fish shows you if they’ve read your message or not and if they’ve deleted your message. Too excited? Read Deleted. Bad joke in title? Unread Deleted. To girls this skittish, however, the delete button is just a ruse to connect better with more people on their favorite subject: silence.

I love rejection, but that level of skittishness should be reserved for people who talk about raping clowns and hoarding cats, neither of which appear on my profile.

What the hell happened? Why don’t we take pride in who we are and what we love? Why are we so afraid to open up to people? Surely you can think up more than a paragraph about yourself? I guess average works for people who want or settle for the average. You want a car with seatbelts, maybe an airbag. It should go places without much trouble. Maybe it has a few scratches, dings, dents, but the headlights work. You can put junk in the trunk. And that’s how they approach love: they want the average, the safe, the standard. Average is what you want when you don’t know what you want.

I don’t want average. Fuck average - I know exactly what I want and I’ll find it. I want to share a love like the world has never seen before – I deserve that. A girl who lights up like a nuclear bomb just at the thought of me, because I certainly do for her. A girl with fireworks in her eyes and a sense of humor like a Ninja on Redbull. A girl who can swear in Klingon and kick my ass with just one look. I want a love that people will tell stories about for ages.

Now I’ve just got to find her.