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It made me feel like I wasn’t a person, and I guess to the people sending the messages, I wasn’t. I could be wrong about that, though, because I’m just a woman.2. When this message came, and I was mildly flattered, it was only because my spirits were already broken. And then the three of us drove to West Virginia, where his profile said he lived (that’s right, he’s copy-pasting girls in other states), kidnapped him, carried him over our shoulders to a marble slab in a deserted forest clearing, and sacrificed his blood to the devil. He tried to tell us that we really were all good shit, but it was too late.3. It is my hope that by continually doing what I love to do, which is talking about myself, someone perfect will eventually just fall in love with me. But some part of me—the part that is familiar with social interactions and general guidelines of human conduct—recognizes that this is neither the most practical nor the most thoughtful way to get to know a person.

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.

I don’t know that he can even do any of these things, nor does he have any reason to believe I’d have any interest in participating in these things. I work in corporate IT management and Twincities being small for management consulting, I have to be little discreet about my fitness modeling!

However, I’ve since met some very nice ISTJs so I will give you a chance ;) Are you a standup comedian or do you like to make people laugh in a more natural setting? It’s the outline of a polite question distilled by highly corrosive acid and then sprayed into my face with a high-powered hose. I know this was a surprise to many of these messages’ authors, because I could see them returning to my profile for days afterward, checking to see if I’d been online.If I didn’t have corrective contact lenses, I wouldn’t have even been able to see them. But whatever, you get my point.) These messages were like these little lifesavers thrown out to me, a person who was drowning in a cesspool of filth and sewage water, only to be just as quickly cast aside because, even though they were nice enough, relatively speaking, the guys who sent them were fifty-two years old or were self-described “fitness models” or went by the user name “Lets Fck Around.”Look, I know it isn’t easy out there for dudes, either. So guys have some pressure—they’re the ones who have to “make a move” and then just wait while my friends and I gasp and laugh and email each other the complete garbage they’ve just sent us. I am interested in the grouping and analysis of small disasters.I would feel bad, except that the authors of the messages that provoke that kind of reaction most certainly do not give a fuck. Because they sent that same exact masturbatory-ass message to me AND two of my friends. So I’ve come up with a few categories of messages that you’re liable to receive if you find yourself being simultaneously female and in possession of an online dating profile.Guess I’ll have to wait and see if she decides, here’s an interesting guy that shows great promise.” I think he thinks this message is about me (or, rather, “she”) because he’s listing things he’d supposedly want to do with me, but it isn’t.It’s like some weird form of hypothetical showing off.—but nothing on the level of the backhanded assholeish-ness that infiltrated my inbox from day one on Ok Cupid. Like I said, I know this is random, but I had to let you know. If you want though, you should look at my profile, I worked really hard on it, haha, but there is a lot of information on there, so only go read it if you enjoy reading or you could hate your life. Maybe because they can’t make a first impression with clothing or intensely acidic cologne, some of the men on Ok Cupid peacock in a different way: bragging.

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