) be slowly roasted in a stew of his own fedoras, watched over by the legions of women who have to try to figure out why this person who ostensibly wants to date them just called them “pretty but not in an intimidating way.”1.
But I also knew that if I really wanted to meet someone as much as I was saying I did, I might have to step outside my Comfort Zone, which is what I call my flannel pajamas, and into the big, hopeful, scary world of Internet dating. My friend Jenna came over on a Wednesday night, because it was February first, and we decided that something like this should happen on a first day of the month. I mean, yes, technically I’m five-eleven and a half, but I’m not going to round up to six feet online, am I? I checked out the profile of the guy who’d messaged me—tall, dorky, kind of funny—and though I didn’t find him all that attractive, I impulsively decided to chat with him anyway. On the first day of online dating, that is sort of all you really need. I think I was just overwhelmed by how much it took me back to middle school, flirting (well, talking) with boys on AIM for the first time. ” Everyone was always telling me that, if nothing else, having an online dating profile would be a confidence booster because of all the flattering messages I’d receive. Of the many, many things that my messages could have been called, “flattering” is not one of them.
The Virus On some level I was prepared for the assholes, because I know enough people who’ve dated online to know that good manners and 10th-grade spelling abilities are underrepresented in the world I’d so reluctantly just joined. True, I still recognized it for the maniacal word vomit that it was, and true, I rolled my eyes so hard at “I know beauty. I didn’t respond, but I’m ashamed to admit that I kept that message because I thought it was really about me. The Cry for Help There must come a time, after you’ve been online dating for months or even years, when you feel your spirit leaving your body. You’ll still sign in and look at people’s profiles, just to pass the time, but you won’t think of them as humans any longer. Some part of me knows that what you are supposed to do when you want to get to know someone is ask him/her questions about him/herself, and not just because you hope you can then turn the conversation back around to you.
What I was not prepared for were the copy-pasters, the virus transmitters, the people who apparently send identical messages (or gently mutated versions thereof) to the owner of every female profile they can find. Its my drug” that my eyes fell out of my head and I had to pop them back in. They might look like people, but then so do you, and you know that all you are anymore is a shell. It’s hard to know for sure when it will happen, though my experience suggests that you’re probably getting close when you find yourself sending messages like the ones below. “I need to laugh right now, since I was broken up with on Valentine’s day. And we can discuss the annunaki, nibiru, and the blue spirals! Some part of me knows that I would never stroll into a bar announcing my various accomplishments and character traits to a guy I thought was hot—so why would I (or anyone in their right mind) do the same thing in a message?
It’s a thing you say to a woman if you are an asshole who believes that, ultimately, what women really want is for someone to be mean to them. Far be it from me to deny a lady a good blow to her self-esteem now and again, if she promises me that’s what she wants and she’s really okay and she agrees to come hang out with me later, just girls. Lo and behold, a few bravely delusional spirits soldier on.
I just feel pretty safe saying that, as a whole, humans don’t like when people are nasty to them. Sometimes it’s clear they know what they’re doing, which is the worst possible type of neg. I don’t know.) Sometimes it’s clear that they are just hapless goons.