Date my avatar
I have this gamer friend, a 17-year-old knock-out with strawberry blond hair and a J. Crew style, who looks nothing like the dark warrior she professes to be. I'll call her "Svenna" — after her gaming avatar — and say that she makes me feel older than the 10-odd years that separate us. Her e-mails are peppered with an Internet slang that is both hip and incomprehensible, so that I'm secretly glad when I puzzle out a new one but feel old and passé when another stumps me. She spends her waking hours glued to a MacBook, interacting online in ways I can only imagine.
Svenna once tried to explain the dimensions of her game of choice — the weaponry, the characters, the geography. I asked about points and lives, as if World of Warcraft were an updated version of Pac-Man. Finally, she offered to let me watch her play, as though seeing Internet gaming in action were the only way to make my outmoded brain understand.
Svenna showed me her avatars and their gear, the outfits they wear and the powers they wield. She introduced me to her world of night elves and gnomes, pointing out the long-limbed, heavilymuscled trolls. "Trolls are kind of hot," she said. Choosing her healer avatar over one of her warrior characters, Svenna spent the next 30 minutes tending to the online wounded, stopping to chat with other players and blowing kisses at passing trolls.
"Do people ever get together through World of Warcraft?" I asked.
Svenna nodded her head, never taking her eyes off the screen. "It definitely happens," she said.
Which got me to thinking: What a great way of meeting people. True, dwarves and elves are not exactly my taste, but wouldn't dating be easier if we could have a trial run in the virtual world, where our egos are less fragile and we have a chance for greater boldness?
With this in mind, I turned to the great Google, intent on tracking down an avatar-based dating site. I wasn't disappointed.
Soon, I was signing up for a free trial
membership with OmniDate.com, a Toronto-based online dating site where members select one of six digital representations and then go on virtual dates. According to the site's promo literature, this gives daters a chance to interact before a face-to-face meeting. For my own avatar, I chose a thoughtful-looking brunette, bypassing a cartoon blond in a low-cut dress. From the registration page, I went straight to the profiles list, slinging cyber date invitations left and right. My real-life self would never be so forward, but I had discovered dating freedom in the virtual world. So what if all of my invitations were denied? After all, it was my avatar who got dissed, not me.
Following this trend, Nomoredates.com, a site tailored for "young, stylish, urban professionals," has partnered with OmniDate to offer virtual dating to its online love-seekers.
"The whole thing is a little bit geeky," said No More Dates founder Vekrum Kaushik in a Toronto Star article. Still, he hopes the experience catches on. As for me? Next time, I'm choosing the blond.
Contact Artis
>>Send your dating tips, questions, and disasters to: sandydays@floridaweekly.com