It’s been described as “a bastard child of Skype and Stumble Upon.“ I’ll admit it. My curiosity got the best of me and I had to try Chatroulette. I mean, if John Stewart is doing it, that makes it ok. Right?

As funny as John Stewart’s “first-hand” account is, the best article I’ve seen on the subject is The Human Shuffle, by Sam Anderson.

“I entered the fray on a bright Wednesday afternoon, with an open mind and an eager soul, ready to sound my barbaric yawp through the webcams of the world. I left absolutely crushed. It turns out that ChatRoulette, in practice, is brutal. The first eighteen people who saw me disconnected immediately. They appeared, one by one, in a box at the top of my screen—a young Asian man, a high-school-age girl, a guy lying on his side in bed—and, every time, I’d feel a little flare of excitement. Every time, they’d leave without saying a word. Sometimes I could even watch them reach down, in horrifying real-time, and click “next.” It was devastating. My first even semi-successful interaction was with a guy with a blanket draped over his lap who asked if I wanted to “jack of” with him. I declined; he disconnected. Over the course of an hour, I was rejected by what felt like a cast of thousands: a teenage girl talking on her cell phone, a close-up of an eyeball. It started to feel like a social-anxiety nightmare. One guy just stared into the camera and flipped me off. Another stood in front of his computer making wave motions with his hands, refusing to respond to anything I typed. One person had the courtesy to give me, before disconnecting, a little advice: “too old.” (I’m 32.) A girl with heavy makeup looked terrified when my image popped up on her screen—I actually felt guilty, a few rounds later, when the engine of randomness threw us back together and she had to look at my face for another excruciating half-second. My longest exchange was with a guy who seemed to be wearing one of those protective cones you put on a dog after surgery. “LICK YOU ELBOW,” he typed. “Why?” I asked. He disconnected.” [read whole article here]

Probably due to the fact that I’m a girl, and the ratio of men to women on Chatroulette is overwhelming, my experience was a little different than Anderson’s. In fact, I was the one doing the nexting. I was connected to all guys who, thank god, were fully clothed. I didn’t end up talking to anyone for more than a few minutes since I was just trying to get the lay of the land and, honestly, was afraid the conversations might take a turn for the pervy.

Although everyone remanded clothed and things were PG, I still was uncomfortable. One of the first questions everyone asked me, “You got a boyfriend.” Umm, yes. But why does that matter? What did they think was going to happen? We’re going to fall in love over Chatroulette? We’re going to meet up for a casual encounter? No thank you. If I want an internet love connection I’ll go to eHarmony. At least those people always look happy in the commercials and aren’t visually assaulted by male genitalia =D

As it is, I don’t see the value in it. It’s definitely not how I would choose to spend my time. But what if Google got it’s hands on the site? Anderson proposes the idea of filters – picking the type of person you want to talk to based on demographics, geography, interests. I would even go as far as to dream of a day where you could pick to connect to people in your industry or extended Linkedin network. Helllloooo networking opportunity!

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