You Had Me at Harvard

A woman I know, who we’ll call Emily, wants to marry a doctor. Actually, she wants to marry a doctor, lawyer or anyone who makes tons of cash. Whenever I run into her, Emily shares stories about dating medical residents and rejecting normal guys because she’s “waiting for her doctor.” She’s very Shirley Feeney that way.

During the last presidential election, Emily and I attended a fundraiser where one of the Kennedy cousins was the keynote speaker. Charmed by the younger Kennedy’s boxy good looks and aristocratic charm, Emily made eyes all night, fantasizing the guy would become so enchanted he’d whisk her away to the compound. Ultimately, she left the party Kennedy-less but with a new romantic goal: Emily wanted a blue blood.

And now, it seems my friend, and thousands of single gals like her, are in luck. This year, a team of Harvard Business School grads launched dateHarvardSq.com, a dating site for singles looking to “connect with Harvard University educated doctors, lawyers, businesspeople, academics and professionals.” In other words, rich, brilliant guys and gals who rightly consider the world their oyster.

Of course, not everyone at Harvard is a square-jawed blue blood with a family crest woven into their polo shirt. But I’m sure the site’s creators are counting on this mythology to sell their wares, and admittedly, I get the appeal. After reading the articles in Vanity Fair each month, I always turn to the party pages to drool. Who wouldn’t want to be invited to a “ball” held on an “estate” in the Hamptons? Who wouldn’t want the luxury, the free time, the worshipful admiration showered upon the immensely wealthy, extraordinarily privileged and phenomenally well-educated?

There’s only one problem. Those people don’t hang with commoners. Emily, lovely as she may be, is a middle-class Midwesterner and grade school teacher. Though she’s cute, she’s no Dutch countess. Emily thinking she has a chance with an aristocrat is like me fantasizing George Clooney might go for a pint-sized writer with allergies and enough student loan debt to save a small African village. Ever seen a yacht party photo captioned, “His Royal Highness Lord Constantine and wife, Susie, Cleveland Public School teacher?” Me either.

And there’s another problem. Blue bloods probably don’t have trouble finding dates. If they can’t find them on their own, they undoubtedly have vast social networks which connect every Muffie to her Biff.

Which probably means dateHarvardSq.com is left with Harvard’s losers, its rejects, its George Dubyas. And you can find those guys on Match.

Still, how awesome would it be if academic institutions started hosting their own dating sites? We’d have BigTenMen.com for girls who like chubby frat boys interested in football, Bud Lite and hurling on themselves at parties, while DukeDudes would be for chicks who enjoy participating in misogynistic sex scandals. CommunityCollegeCrush would be for those who need extra help starting out on their life paths while TechInstituteTreasures would attract women who dig earnest men with tattoos and townie accents.