What Went Wrong: True Stories from My OK Cupid Inbox

Literally every human you know who has online dated for greater than 5 seconds has a whole clutch of messages from troll people that they probably just ignore. But when you combine troll people, unattractive people, people whose personalities are terrible, and people who are just meh, I'd say I respond to maybe 10% of messages I receive, tops. 

This lead me to wonder: 90% is a lot of ignoring. Surely SOME of these dudes wandering around in this kaleidoscopic hellscape we know as online dating COULD be quite dateable, if they could just get their messaging game together. 

Let us pretend for the moment that these messages were all sent with the best of intentions by genuine dudes who are simply misguided, and are not the insidious screeching of men who have swallowed whole the cultural mores that encourage them to view women as objects, to be captured and collected like so many Pokemon. 

Instead, let us do the lord's work, and give some thoughtful analysis to some truly thoughtless messages. 

All these are taken from my own personal inbox, with faces and info removed, because otherwise this would be a real fucked up thing to do. 

Message 1

Straight out of the gate, we detect that his message was sent at 8:56 am. That is an unusual time to be on the prowl for partners, my friend. I can just see this dude, cup of coffee clutched in his fist, staring intently into the screen as he perfects his prose. 

Sadly, Coffee Eggplant, you did not stick the dismount. 

Clearly what you meant was to sweetly flatter me, by letting me know how fly you find me. However notice how you wonder if I always look the same. Sometimes I look better, sometimes I look worse. Just like you do. Just like all people. That you do not seem to know this makes me suspect you are not the hang-out-in-sweatpants-and-watch-Netflix-with-like-a-whole-bag-of-oreos-and-no-makeup-on kind of dude. How will it ever work out if this is the case?  

Also, when you wonder whether I am a bomb photoshop artist (about which you are correct! did you see the dope graphics on this blog?) you mistakenly neglect to praise my skills as an artist, but instead seem to imply I would use them to try to pull a fast one on you, Coffee Eggplant, by altering my appearance. That would not be a very nice thing to do; surely you did not mean to imply that I am not a very nice person, having filled my profile with half truths, did you? You wouldn't want to date a liar would you? Wait, would you? Is that why you're messaging me?  

Señor Two

This was a nice try, but it's too many questions and I think you are maybe calling me an alcoholic there in the end. 

Also, this reminds me of these long ass voicemails I used to leave on my friend's phone where I would just tell his voicemail all the things I called to talk about,  and when he'd call me back we could pick the conversation up there. Just like those messages, this is not so much a conversation-starter as a whole monologue. I'm left to wonder: do I need to be here for this? Like, wouldn't you rather tell me all about your passion for social justice as you stare earnestly into my eyes? Or at least wait till I finish telling you about fiction books?

Also also: you wrote this whole long profile, why are you reciting it to me in your message? You know I'm gonna click on your face to see what your page looks like before I read this message, don't you? Cause I am.

Look, Longwinded Eggplant, you gotta just cut this message in half. Skip right to talking about the things you like about me (pro tips!), pick only one question, and press send.

We could've had something.

so sad. 

Dude got jokes

ok, so,  you ONLY want to cuddle with me? What about talking? What about pizza? What about ya know, the sex! And what do you mean by "eternal salvation"? Did you mean this DVD? If so, hard pass. Next time, you wanna write a message that makes a girl think you've got a little ambition. Or at a minimum that you shower regularly. 

Oh, I see you have gone right ahead with next time. This my friend is a vast improvement! There is still some ground to cover here though. It sorta seems like you're asking me to issue an edict on what all women are, or do, or feel, which is something I am absolutely never going to do, and also is not a great way to go, because it makes it sound like you don't realize we are all our own special snowflakes. 

Also suboptimal: the conted of attempt 2 (just like attempt 1) has literally nothing to do with anything you'd have read on my page. However, as a non-sequitor, it is kindof ok, and this includes only the one question, so, you're on the right track. You'll get there eventually, buddy!

Maybes. 

This dude...
I wish I could include his picture because he is also leaning forward in a menacing manner.

I wish I could include his picture because he is also leaning forward in a menacing manner.

I have only questions:

Who is Sunday and which of her/his/its possessions are you sitting atop while you are bored? If sitting on Sunday's shit makes you feel bored, I encourage you to stop.  

How often do you eat your food by the river? Is this a restaurant or like a picnic situation? If picnic, wouldn't it be more accurate to call this "snacks by the river"? Are you bringing some sort of cook top situation to the riverbank? Does it work on batteries or is there some seriously long extension cord situation? (not that you were thinking of strangling me with the extension cord, at any point, of course)

Do you realize how much this makes me think of Chris Farley's Van Down By the River? Is that the image you want me associating with you? 

Oh, and why in the ever living fuck would I imagine you would consider drowning me in the river if the date went badly (until, of course you went on out of your way to mention that you're thinking about it, in order to reassure me that, upon consideration, you've decided against it. Now it's the only thing I can think about).

Pro Tip: Never tell a woman you are tryna date that you might go all murdery on her if shit goes south. This is not, in general, a turn on. 

unless you are turned on by a sudden police presence at your home. If so, A+.

I’m not gonna lie, having arrived at the end of this post, I am revising your opinion on how choosy a 90% ignore rate is.

Stay safe out there in the produce aisles.
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