A small logo gave the name of the matchmaking service being advertised: How About We.
But we never thought anyone would actually buy them.At first, being an inadvertent star of an online dating ad campaign seemed hilarious, and I reveled in the joke, posting screenshots on Facebook and dominating the proverbial water cooler at my workplace, the .But the ads continued to run through the fall and winter, and gradually they came to haunt me.But how would that work -- he doesn't even know how to send an instant message.Within a few moments, though, it dawned on me what I was looking at.
In 2009, a photographer friend, Jenny, had snapped some photos of us around the house for her portfolio.
When the shoot was over, we signed model release forms with the vague notion that she might offer the pictures to a stock photo agency.
Last June, my morning routine was interrupted by a series of texts from a friend, showing a pair of screen shots that were at first incomprehensible.
In one, under the headline "Better Singles, Better Dates," my boyfriend Patrick's smiling face hovered in the bottom row of a Brady Bunch-style grid of other men, as if it had been ripped from a personal account. " my friend wrote, "Since when are you guys online dating?
" Good question."Patrick," I yelped, "look at this." As we huddled over the phone, another image popped up -- another grid of faces, but this time all women.
All the way on the left, in the second row, was mine.