Girl meets boy. Girl dates boy. Girl and boy break up. Girl cries a lot to Taylor Swift and swears off all boys forever, except when she’s drunk (because Girl’s got needs). Girl decides maybe she should try again and downloads Tinder. Girl is unhappy with the results and decides to try Friendsy. Girl realizes this was a mistake, and instead of learning her lesson, she reaches back into 2010 to seek out OkCupid for long-term effects.
The reviews are mixed: She’s heard the horror stories of creepy men messaging long declarations of love off just a picture and a few sentences on a profile, but she’s also heard successful stories of dates that went well or at least not terribly. What’s she got to lose other than time, energy and dignity?
Within a few minutes of signing up, her first message appears! She hasn’t even finished her profile yet—who could be so enchanted by her average photo and one sentence biography? Oh, wait, it’s just an OkCupid admin. Alas, love eludes her.
In effort to reclaim some agency, she’s going to stop writing this in third person. This story is entirely about me, after all.
The next messages are forgettable, telling me I “seem interesting” or asking if “the guy behind me is looking at my butt.” (Which for the record, he’s not.) Yet, one appears that holds promise. It is banal, only proclaiming, “Oh my sweet Lord you’re beautiful [sic],” but the boy is attractive. I respond telling him that this isn’t the way to start a conversation, and wait. An hour later he says, “How about this… You like dick?”
Well. It was bound to happen. Still, I remain hopeful! My Prince Charming must be somewhere in between the neckbeards and Mom’s-basement dwellers! Allons-y!
Later in the day, I get a message that just says, “You.” Me? You? What are you getting at? I’m really unsure of what to do in this situation. Do you just walk up to women on the street and grunt “You. Me. Now.” like a caveman? Does that get you far? I’m not sure it’s worth finding out the intricacies of your mind so I’m just gonna ignore you.
“When was the last time you actually cried in the library?” the next one reads. I feel a lot of judgment right here. You don’t know my life! And for the record, it was last year; I’m six months clean and sober.
Oh look this one’s a proposition for a three-some. I’m honored but really not interested. Sorry, better luck next time!
I’ve culminated quite a few messages at this point and despite the poor grammar of some (e.g. “U rly interest me”), my ego is successfully boosted. Maybe I’m not attractive in real life, but I sure feel attractive on the Internet! Which is obviously the most important judge of appearance.
Well, this has been fun, but I think I’m ready to give up now. Maybe OkCupid works for some people, but I’ve got a low bullshit tolerance and I’m really just laughing at all of you. But I’ve learned a lot on my quick stint in cyber-dating. Number one is that your profile picture will probably dictate the type of messages you get. This is pretty true of Tinder and like, the real world too, so it’s not much of a groundbreaker. Second, there are two types of people on this website: Those who make their intentions known immediately (see Dick-Boy) and those who lull you into a false sense of security and friendship before getting really creepy really fast. You know who you are.
A word to the wise, OkCupid is just a less cool Tinder, and Tinder is a less awkward Real Life, so just talk to someone at a party instead. Or listen to Taylor Swift alone in your room. It’s what I do.