No, seriously, Mr. Internet man, no one tells me that all the time. Except for my mom, who usually delivers the compliment during moments where it is especially unbelievable, i.e., I am returning from the gym, have poison ivy on my face, am wearing full stage makeup, etc.
I mean, sure, I get my fair share of OKC harassment, in the form of “your sexy,” “u a beatiful glir,”, “why iz sumone as hot as u still single? Do you have an STD?.” These generic, sometimes offensive, and usually misspelled compliments are typical for all women, regardless of what we actually look like. (Including TACOSDELISH, who, as I shared earlier on the blog, doesn’t even have a picture. But that doesn’t stop men from messaging her and saying things like, “Yr real hot,” and “can i stick it in that sweet ass?”
But this compliment was so specific! Why, yes, I do have a decent smile and eyes! And I’ve been hauling it to Pilates a couple one time per week; so thanks for noticing!!! Thanks for treating me like the special, beautiful flower my mother says I am!
I also appreciate that this guy makes his purpose clear. He isn’t trying to go out with me, or start a conversation. He just wanted to stop by and boost my self esteem for a little. Which I appreciate, because I am cripplingly insecure, and will take any and all validation I can get.
Even if it’s from someone who is obviously a pervert. Behold, a lovely excerpt from his profile:
Just so you know, buddy, not everyone lists those things. While 2 of the 5 things you listed are NSFW, I’ll give you points for originality.
It is clear sir. And, thank you for being up front about that.
Regardless of what his profile says, please know that after reading this message, I danced around my apartment to this:
Howdy, internet friends. I thought I’d switch things up from our normal StuCu routine of posting sociopathic,soul crushing, and just generally nonsensical messages for Message Monday and go with something a little more “normal” today. Here’s one that I received recently:
This is hella depressing, but that is actually one of the better messages I’ve received on Okcupid. Middlle of the road, sure, but definitely in the top 50%. Ahahaha #FML.
Honestly, I didn’t hate this message. It’s super cheesy, and obviously pick up lines are lame, but I don’t know, I was maybe 30% charmed by it. First of all, it prompted me to picture baby polar bears, which yes, grow up to be killing machines, but also happen to be effing adorable:
Second, at least he said SOMETHING other than:
hey
hi
yo
what’s up
ur pretty
wana talk
how are u
I would have definitely chatted and subsequently gone out with this guy IF upon further inspection of his profile I hadn’t concluded that we had absolutely nothing in common. Like, zero. But my rejecting him had nothing to do with the message, even though I can only assume (as I always do with a generic message that doesn’t refer to my profile at all) that he’s sending this bad boy out to any and every woman who he encounters on Okc. I would actually love to know what his rate of return is, but I’m guessing it w0uld be considered rude to ask him that in my reply…?
But it’s been a month since my last fling, and I have some more free time on the horizon, so I thought it was time to reactive the ol’ profile.
And thank god I did! Three minutes after reactivating, I received this gem:
Let me begin with the positive.
1) He used “you’re” correctly, which is quite a feat on OKC– a Wild, Wild West when it comes to you’re/your usage. (Though telling the difference between you and you’re seems to be significantly less challenging for men than telling the difference between their, there, and they’re.)
2) This is better than “hi.” I mean, the dude knows how to keep it interesting.
Now, on to the negative:
1) Um, it’s a little too interesting. First of all, the first question required some deep thought for me, and, after about 5 minutes, I concluded my most prized possession was my television. I don’t think that’s the answer this guy was looking for. But, like George Washington, I cannot tell a lie:
2) How are these “security” questions? I thought security questions were things like, “What is your mother’s maiden name?” Or those horrible little unreadable boxes with meaningless letters strung together you have to fill out when signing up for something, to ensure you aren’t a criminal computer bot. Not sure how knowing my opinion on peanut butter and jelly will allow this guy to figure out if I’m a sociopath trying to steal his bank information.
3) Puh-leez. I can name more than 7 countries that have 4 letters:
Iran
Iraq
Togo
Laos
Fiji
Mali
Oman
Cuba
Point is, this guy was cute enough, but not cute enough to merit a return message that took as much energy to craft as a college midterm. I can’t even imagine going on a date with this guy without bringing an Atlas and CD-ROM Encyclopedia Britannica, just so I can keep up. Also, I have a strong suspicion he might be a distant cousin of one of S’s virtual suitors, who, in case you haven’t heard, is in MENSA.
But who knows? This may be the best message I get this week. So seriously, if you know some more four letter countries, holler at me. Clearly, I need to impress this guy.
Oh boy you guys. Get ready, because the message I’m about to share is outrageously crude and offensive.
Back in July, a couple friends were visiting Boston for a few days and staying with me. One night we went to a Sox game, and during that dead time between innings they convinced me to join Tinder. For those who aren’t familiar, it’s an app that links to your facebook profile. Specifically, your profile pictures. The gist is that, based on your location, a picture of a guy/girl comes up and you swipe right if you “like” them, and left if you don’t. If you swipe left, it brings up a new person. If you swipe “like”, and they have also “liked” you, then it tells you you’re a match and opens up a chat option. It’s a hookup site. I mean, it also tells you if you have friends and/or interests in common, and has a little area for you to write something up, but I feel confident in saying that approximately 2% of users actually look at that info. Anyway, I knew Tinder existed, and my feelings about the app prior to that night resembled this:
However, that night I agreed to join. I was having a great time with my friends, the beer was flowing, the Sox were losing – I was in a fantastic mood. And I hated to admit it, but once I started using it I actually kind of enjoyed it. There was something very satisfying about all that superficial swiping. And it made waiting for/riding the T more interesting, which is an accomplishment hard to come by because the T is the worst.
And then at 10 a.m. on a workday, some dude I had “matched” with sent me this:
…
Disturbed, but unable to just ignore the message, I responded.
Hello friends! Here’s a little message Monday action from my least favorite dating site in the world, Jdate. As the end of my 3 month trial subscription nears, my rage towards the site compounds daily. I can’t wait to write a full on diatribe about the site, but until then, I’ll just treat you to this GEM of a message I received:
First of all, holy god (Or should I say, Yahway?)this is is long. Buddy, I’m not reading this shiz on a KIndle. I’d not trying to harken back to my University days when I had 200 pages to read per night. Please edit yourself.
Now, let’s begin analyzing this text further. I appreciate you stating that I do not have to be a mirror image of you. I know I have not wanted to date a mirror image of myself. According to my uncle, my closest mirror image looks something like this:
A wise Latina, yes. Someone I am attracted to, no. Sorry Sonia.
I also appreciate you letting me know that while Delaware is not that far away, there are places that are further away, like Zimbabwe or other countries in Africa. I suppose this means I must cancel my subscription to “Date a Bushman” or “Aboriginals Finding Love.” Too far away! Indeed, Delaware is my limit.
I especially enjoyed the portion of this message where you detail not only your resume, but also the educational history of your family members. One of my criteria for a relationship is “where your mom went to college.” It’s right up there with “strong feelings on domesticated animals” and “how many staplers you have on your desk.”
Lastly, good sir, in future messages, I suggest you refrain from drawing attention to the fact that you are out of shape, or other unattractive physical features. I mean, we all have our flaws. Lord knows I have mine–I just admitted that a middle aged Supreme Court Justice is my celebrity Doppelganger. But I’m not messaging men and saying, “I do get the occasional zit on my chin, and know I should probably do something about my under eye circles. But you should have seen me in college! At least I’ve lost 20 pounds. I’ve made significant strides!!”
Put another tally in the L column for Jdate! And have good week readers!
Hey there, loyal readers. Just a heads up, LSD are busy ladies at the moment. Between moving, vacays, bridal showers and bdays, we may be a bit light on posts this week. Thanks for your patience 🙂 (L, I know how much you appreciated that emoticon).
Anyway, happy Message Monday! This one hits close to home for me–literally.
The part of the message that I blacked out? You guessed it: my high school.
Running into someone you know on okcupid is a very real fear of mine, much like being murdered by a date and becoming the subject of a Lifetime movie. You put your profile out there, and sure it’s “anonymous”, but your picture is still attached to it. And it’s the f-cking internet; nothing is really anonymous (except, we hope, this blog!). So yes, sometimes I worry that my boss could stumble upon my profile and read the sex questions I answered. Or a co-worker. Or a family member. Or a crush or hook up from back in the day. Basically anyone I’ve met, ever. Because of this fear, the number of questions about sex (there are hundreds) that I’ve actually answered basically amount to:
Also at the top of this list: former classmates. And don’t worry, this isn’t the first time this has happened to me, or even the second. TWICE before I’ve run into dudes I went to high school with, I guess hardly surprising given the fact that my hometown is less than 10 miles outside of Philly. L and I went to a pretty small high school, though; I believe our graduating class was 175-ish people. We literally know every single person in our class and in the classes 1-2 grades below and above. So I honestly wasn’t expecting to have to play the ‘who the eff is that?’ game until this fall at my (drumroll please) ten year reunion. (F-ck, I’m old). And I figured at least then I’d be with my friends, we’d be drunk, and possibly decide to perform an impromptu interpretive dance:
So when this dude messaged me and I didn’t recognize him at all, I figured I was just having a brain fart and that my friends would ID him immediately. I sent out the appropriate mass text with that screen cap, plus his full profile picture which it’s worth noting is a legitimate head shot/glamour shot (which you may recall is on my list of profile pic no no’s from back in the day).
Can’t say it any better than my friend did:
Anyway, no one had ANY IDEA who this terrifying 29 year old bisexual claiming to be our classmate was. So I responded to him, curious now about this mystery:
Ummm okay.
1. ‘We probably never crossed paths in school’–Creepy, slash you’re obviously right since I have NO IDEA who you are.
2, ‘You clearly appear to be the best looking’
Hey, asshole. First of all, that’s not even true. My friends are mad cute. And since you claim to have such a stellar memory, they were also adorable in high school, even though we all had slightly more questionable fashion sense back then.
Second, based on your picture I would bet that you’re probably on a registered sex offenders list somewhere, so I’m not really sure you’re in the position to judge anyone on their looks. Third, do you think that I’m actually pathetic enough to fall for this blatantly disingenuous, totally lame attempt at flattery? Oh gee, a creepy stranger on okcupid claiming to know me from 10 years ago insulted my friends, but he thinks I’m cute! BE STILL MY HEART.
Men.
I was officially grossed out by this mystery acquaintance, but now it was basically my mission in life to figure out who he was. I was this close to making my mom go into our attic, find one of my yearbooks and flip through the entire class of 2002 over the phone with me, but I figured I’d save her that trip if I could and check with some other friends from high school first (you’re welcome, mom).
I saw some of those friends on Saturday night, and the search continued. We named every kid we could think of with that first name, but nothing checked out. We texted another friend who lives in NYC and put her on the task force. She thought she had a guess, but then someone actually did consult a yearbook upon returning home and ruled it out:
So as of Monday, July 29th at 12:30 pm, the case of the creepy classmate remains open. If anyone from my high school has any leads, they can leave an anonymous tip in the comments section. We’ll see you next time on…
First of all, not sure what our friend here means by ‘waw waw waw’… why why why? Wow wow wow? Is he trying to reference a certain beloved PA/NJ convenience store? Either way, English is clearly this Italian stallion’s second language (his first being the language of loooove… yes it’s 1 am and that joke sounded like a great idea to me. As did this snazzy gif:)
Second. Believe mi [sic], sir. No one understands how much of a shame it “is a really” more than yours truly. I am a “nice and sweet girl” (except for first thing in the morning. My morning rage is legendary). And I have wasted what probably adds up to a frightening amount of time dealing with “losers here”. Preach.
Third, you said the word bella. That fact plus the whole Italian theme we’ve got going on here means I’m pretty much morally obligated to post the following, one of the most romantic movie scenes of all time:
Okay, that was truly beautiful but back to the message. I appreciate the solidarity, Italian stallion. I really do. I appreciate that you seem to understand my single gal plight. Because the fact is, that animated Disney date featuring two dogs was more lovely and romantic than anything I’ve encountered on Okc thus far. The problem is, you didn’t follow this observation up with anything constructive. Are you trying to say, in broken English, that you’re different than the average run of the mill Okc loser? Well that’s great, except your profile pictures all feature you creepily posing with various foreign cars while wearing Adidas track pants in front of a house that I’m 78% sure isn’t yours.
I promise there are two more glamour shots where this came from, I’m just too tired/lazy to add them. So anyway I’m not sure, given this evidence, how likely it is that you’ve broken the douchebag mold and are in fact the breath of online dating fresh air I’ve been waiting for.
Verdict: I think I’m going to have to waste a little more time with the losers here. Still holding out hope for my very own Bella Notte. Waw waw waw, indeed.
Let me guess, you forgot there was a third co-blogger named D? I know. I’ve been MIA for a month. And if I’m being honest, I’ll probably be scarce around these parts for a little while longer. I wish I had a juicy reason, like a new relationship that was going so well I had nothing to blog about. The real reason is more to the tune of: work is insane, one of my closest friends is getting married soon and I’m a bridesmaid, I’m moving to the ‘burbs in two weeks, and I’ve been feeling pretty “meh” lately about online dating (that match membership is proving to be a waste of money) (Editor’s note: I hate being right. Obviously I actually love it, but I hate that it’s at D’s expense. Fucking Match). And remember when S promised you lovely readers less “Womp Womp” and more hilarious hijinks? I don’t know about hilarious hijinks, but here’s a Message Monday for you:
Technically speaking, I recognize that this was a compliment. He thinks I’m pretty. But I shuddered when I received this. I can’t even explain why this message creeped me out so much. Well, I could explain. And in fact, I did explain when I first drafted this post. But that explanation went to a really dark and macabre place. It was dark even for us, so I called S and the following conversation transpired:
D: So, I drafted a Message Monday, but I don’t think we can use it. It went to a really weird place.
S: Ok, let me read the draft.
…….
S: Wait. I don’t understand. What is this tangent about the guy photographing your dead body? Why is there a whole paragraph about corpses?
D: That’s the thing! I just spent an hour trying to make it less dark, but still convey my feelings about that message, and that’s literally the best I could do.
S: What are these links?
D: They’re to a series by a famous photographer featuring staged deaths, called “Landscapes with a Corpse.”
S: What the f*ck, D?! There’s no way I’m clicking on those. Did you seriously Google ‘corpse photography’? Why? What’s wrong with you?
D: I don’t know how to make this better.
S: Well I literally just promised our readers we would stop being the princesses of darkness. And when I said that, a post where you describe in alarming detail a guy from okc photographing your dead body wasn’t really what I had in mind. You can’t post it. This conversation, however, might be mildly amusing.
Just another day’s work. We’ll see you all next time on…
So remember my fear of nuclear war, readers? (Don’t worry, I don’t expect you to–I am not THAT big of a narcissist–that’s why I back linked my post.) Want to know what scares me as much, if not more, than nuclear war?
Guns.
I hate them. I think they are mean, cruel, killing, machines. I don’t even want to spend time debating with you about the second amendment. I don’t want to hear all about your great family hunting hobby that resulted in everyone killing their own food and eating sustainably. My closest real life experience with a gun was about four years ago, when I had to confiscate a .38 special and some stray bullets from one of my fourth graders. #truestory #noIdidnotteachinBaltimore. So if you’re a gun lover, we’re going to have to agree to disagree here. Cause I also hate conflict.
Oh what’s that you say? Stop ranting about your political views? This is a dating blog, and we’re all here to hear a story along the lines of “hideous adventures on the internet and why you’re still single.” OK OK, message received. Well, one of the reasons I am still single is because this is who is reaching out to me:
1. Somewhere after line 2, this guy figured it wasn’t worth it to check his spelling and punctuation. And momma hates that, too.
2. While we’re on my list of fears/hates, let’s talk about emoticons. They probably come right after nuclear war and right before conflict. Emoticons are lazy. If there is an emotion you’d like to convey in writing, why not use these little things we call words?!?! No self respecting human who puts anything in print uses emoticons (*except for gchats and texts.). Otherwise 50 Shades of Grey could have been written like this:
: } 😉 :@ *) 8)
Instead of wasting his time on As I Lay Dying, William Faulkner could have just typed:
XP XP XP….
Do you get my point?
Plus, directly translated, the emoticons in the above message don’t make any sense. According to the internet, this guy is sticking his tongue out at me and then winking. Huh?
3. UH OH! The proposed activities: Stroll through the park or a visit to the gun range? How did this guy come up with these date ideas, one which sounds completely horrible to me? Did anyone just see what happened to Ken Cosgrove a few weeks ago on “Mad Men?” In case you didn’t:
In case you didn’t get my subtle reference, let me hit you on the head with it. He was shot in the EYE. With a GUN.
Now, to this guy’s credit, there is no way he could have known I feared guns as much as I did. Indeed, we’re an 83% match on OKC, which tells me I probably need to update my questions soon (You were right, R!). But, did he have to suggest it right off the bat? Can’t he suggest something a little more benign to do, like drinks? Or even dinner? Or SKYDIVING, for goodness sakes? But, alas, a visit to this gent’s profile reveals his passion for guns is too strong to suppress, even in an OKC message.
So let’s see. This guy loves his dog, and his phone, and then oh wait–his computer/guns. Which he felt compelled to list before family and friends. What is a computer/guns BTW? Is there a situation where these two things fall into the same category?
The gun theme permeates throughout the profile:
YIKES. First of all, the root word “kill” appears not once, but twice here under the category “I’m really good at.” Apparently, when this stunner is not making steak and pasta, he’s doing something gun related. Hopefully, when he goes to court, he’s going as a witness, and not as a defendant who accidentally killed someone with his gun.
Plus, the emoticons are back. Sigh.
I guess it’s back to my couch for a nice date night with Cheez its and streaming these gems on Netflix:
Who said romance was dead? Certainly not this guy, who messaged me last week:
Now here’s the thing. I don’t mind his frankness. In fact, I like that Romeo gets straight to the point. As I’ve said before, I absolutely HATE a lot of back and forth, and appreciate when a dude takes a little initiative and suggests a time (I believe he generously provides not ONE but TWO possible days for us to hang out) and a place (his hotel).
Now, clearly, I did not respond to this. First of all, this guy’s approach is the exact same MO used by the Craigslist killer. Exact same. I mean, if this guy is, in fact, a killer, he should probably change it up a bit, because there are about 50 Wikipedia and news articles linking him to Phillip Markoff.
But, secondly,and even more offensively, this guy is a union buster. A scab. A strikebreaker. Sir, I have no problem if you want to top off your business trip with a lil somethin’ somethin’. Better men than you have done the same thing:
But, be a good American, and pay for your services. A google search of “escorts DC” (Hi there, NSA!) reveals that there are several lovely websites, clubs, and phone numbers you can call to get someone to come to your hotel for “some fun.” I am not about to undercut working girls by giving out the same goods for free. So buddy, I urge you to call “Appealing Act,”* and leave the good ladies of OKC to hang out with guys who will at least buy us a drink before asking us to give it up. And readers, I leave you with this glorious nod to organized labor. Long live unions!
*Please know, that during the researching of this post, I accidently added Appealing Act’s Google Plus page to my “family” circle, and had to spend the last 30 minutes figuring out how to remove them. #winningattheinternet
Stupid Cupid 