Uncategorized

You Have Mail 2, Electric Boogaloo.

The whole point of online dating is meeting people you otherwise wouldn’t have had the chance to meet. You’ll have the chance to have some great conversations, hopefully hook up with people, but it all comes down to messages you send and receive. If people like your profile and think you’re super pretty, they’ll send you some mail. Sometimes it’ll be something great, like

“absolutley adoring the rhyming profile man!! wish i could rhyme things gt; gt; hows it going?? xx”

Other times… Not so much.

“ure fit ? !! XX”

As a rule, I replied to each and every message I got, because I’m nice like that and have nothing better to do. They made the effort to get in touch, so why shouldn’t I reciprocate? The problem is, what the Hell do you say? How do you respond to

“ur………………. intersting”

I had a long, evolving conversation with the first girl, it was simple! We talked about hats, music, toys, video games, so on. The second one, I was at a complete loss as to what I could say. I finally understood what it’s like to want to just ignore a message. It was making my brain ache. There’s a question mark there, is she asking me if I’m fit? Do I work out? No, no I don’t, I lie in bed and eat bacon sandwiches and cookies. The result was a very brief conversation about pig based food stuffs. The third girl, who thought I was…………………………. intersting [sic]. What I got was a huge jumble of letters thrown at the screen, I had to get someone to help me translate what the fuck the girl was telling me. It really didn’t seem worth the effort to respond, but I marched on. Thankfully, the messages petered out on her end, and we could all get on with our lives.

Once in a while, I’d get a message that would throw me. Messages like

“i really want to got in your pants”

Now, I know and you know that the grammatical tenses in this message are all over the damn place. This person did not. I broke out the decoder ring and went to work, and replied that I don’t think my pants would be big enough for us both. I’m a slim dude, but there’s only so much space one can create by loosening their belt. Evidently, I’m not as funny or clever as I think, and never got a reply.

Of course, this is the Interbutts, and you will, by law of averages, be welcomed with animosity that seems to come from absolutely nowhere.

“i wish u wold die”

Everything obvious aside, did that chick straight up tell me she was wishing I would die? Why the fuck would you do that? I decided she was intensely and bitterly jealous of my ability to grow a top notch beard and let her know I knew her game. Then she told me to piss off. Good times.

One very nice lady said

“i think your kind of funny!”

She thinks I’m funny enough to even put an exclamation mark in there, so great! I’m not just kind of funny, I’m kind of funny! I resisted the urge to tell her dead baby jokes, because how else should I reply? There’s no straight follow up to that message, other than thanks or something. That’s the problem with flat compliments, you can either be modest and look like you’re fishing for more, or say thanks and look like a bit of a dick, like you’re saying “Yeah, I totally am” which I totally am. She mentioned on her profile that she collected costumes, and that was something we could relate on, having a bunch myself. We talked about Winnie The Pooh, insects and playing dress up despite being adults. I think it became creepy when I mentioned I have a sexy cowgirl costume and messages became more sparse. Maybe she thought she was barking up the wrong tree, we’ll never know.

So what have we learned from all this? Fucked if I know, guys. It hammered home how important it is to be literate, and to lead with a question, otherwise it’s too damn hard thinking up a response, and not everyone has my patience. Also, they all seemed to like my profile, despite me being a Messiah impersonator, so much so that they would actually want to talk to me. If this was meatspace, all they’d see was the beard and geeky outward persona, but they decided there was something about my actual personality that made me worth talking to. That, fellow readers, is pretty damn great. Looks fade, pecs sag and become moobs, but I will always be wicked awesome at rhyming things. If people think what you have to say is interesting, cute, or even endearing, isn’t that just as good as being no-shirt-man?