A little app called LULU.
Lulu is a cute, well-designed, character-assassinating app where females can anonymously rate guys on things like manners, sexual prowess, loyalty, ambition and general douchery. Users must verify that they are female through their Facebook account, but the app completely protects the anonymity of the reviewers. I estimate that about 10% of my male Facebook friends have a rating, and it’s rising. Guys do not have to give permission to be on the app. From what I can tell, guys can only avoid it if they have their privacy settings on “I Wanna Be President,” no wall, no photos, no fun.
Reasons I know this is the end. Of everything:
God help us.
Anyone that has ever tried online dating for more than one week will know that it can be a roller coaster of emotions. Or maybe a roller coaster of giving-two-shits about the whole thing. Most of the time it is either underwhelming or overwhelming, but for a couple days/hours/moments, it hovers in the realm of perfectly-whelming. That is when the magic happens. I logged onto okCupid today for the first time in several weeks. I was immediately refreshed, rejuvenated, faith restored. Maybe not faith in the fact that I was going to actually meet someone special, but faith in the fact that online dating continues to be surprising, disarming, and funny as hell. Approached with a sense of humor, it is simply delightful.
I had more than 170 unread messages to browse. Here were some of my favorite moments from today:
Best Username: LonelyJewFace.
Most Perceptive: “Being no real fault of yours, that whole personality chart thing they have for you makes you sound like a cut-throat pirate banker broker extraordinaire.” Omg, get out of my brain!!
Most Angry at Me: “So, I realize it’s foolish of me to message you at this point since you have dropped off the face of the planet, I thought we had fun and was surprised that you didn’t even contact me to let me down gracefully. Or maybe you didn’t even go out of town and that was your means of brushing me off. I have no idea.” I went on a date with this guy, and I just really wasn’t feeling it. I am of the school of thought that you are allowed one free pass to just GHOST before you hit the second date…but it’s messages like these that remind me that it’s a pretty selfish school of thought. So I’m going to pretend that I was kidnapped and haven’t had access to phone, internet, or conscience for 7 weeks. By the way, that’s the story I will tell myself. I will still not contact him…
Best Pic. By Far: Also, Best WordArt.
Best okCupid Personality Question: “Would you buy cigarettes for a fifteen year old who asked you to?” Answer: Nope. But…Goldschlager? Always. I am much more likely to buy them things if I’m pretty sure they’ll consume too much of it and never want it again. Not consume too much of, and want for ever and ever. Also, great question.
Spelling smiley faces like this:
I have been on quite a few first dates, as we all know. (Btw, people always give me a weird look about that. And I’m like, I’m sorry, I don’t know what YOU’RE DOING on all your first dates, but I’m talking about my last vacation and being a very polite lady. And then pretty much never seeing them again, so back up off me.)
Anyways, I’ve been on a lot of online dates. Until recently they were almost all sourced from Match.com. Recently, though, I tried out okCupid. And on my VERY first date out of the okCupid gates, the dude wanted to go Dutch on our cocktails. We met at a bar, and we had our first round of drinks before moving to a different section of the bar. And he wanted to split that first round. And then we moved to the different section of the bar, and we continued to go Dutch. Wait, what? This was awkward for a few reasons.
1. Is this an okCupid thing? What is kind of nice about okCupid is that it’s free, and it’s a little more relaxed than Match.com. But is this just what you have to expect when you move from a paid site to a free dating site?
2. Should I have just taken this as an immediate signal that he wasn’t at all interested in me, and this would be our last date. So he didn’t want to waste twelve dollars?? I’ll go cry now.
Don’t get me wrong. I totally pretended to be unfazed by this scenario. “Oh, yeah! totally. Sure, that makes a lot of sense. Lottttttt of sense. Yep, let me just…oh, ok we’re doing cards. OK, yeah that’s awesome!” Even the waitress felt embarrassed.
Guys should just know that paying for the date is often the first solid signal that tells us you don’t hate us. So, if you don’t want us to feel like you hate us, pick up the check on the first date. You don’t need to go to dinner. You can even go for coffee or tea (or at least I’ve heard of this happening to other people…) or a HIKE, that’s free. But don’t force that awkward check conversation unless you really mean it.
After the first date, girls should be vocal in offering to split or pick up the check. And be prepared for him to say yes. That would also be awkward. “Oh…really? I wasn’t serious. I only brought cab money.” Equally uncool.
Everybody gets shut down from time to time. I have certainly been rejected by somebody that I liked. If you never have, you should probably stop reading my blog. I will only hurt your game. Here’s how it usually goes for me.
Act 1: (say it like you’re Ira Glass from This American Life) Prematurely Act Like You’re Over It. It also helps to decide you hate him for minor reasons. Max? Who’s Max? That guy was so…short. Who needs short guys. Not me. Definitely not me. And he doesn’t eat dessert? Why are you incapable of feeling joy?
Act 2: Embarrassment and Hurty Feelings Grow Until You Completely Lose Your Cool. The climax (worst word ever) of this act is when I send the guy a text or email that I’ve been hoarding for weeks or even MONTHS. Completely out of the blue. Just an FYI, if you have ever disappointed me, I have written a long email to you about it. But you never saw it! My sane self intervenes before I send it. I just file it away in my Passive Aggressive folder on my Mac. But then, I will have a girls night one night. We’ll decide to drink at home. (Cue ominous music.) We will drink shitty white wine and compare shitty stories about guys. If any of you male readers were wondering, when females get together and drink white wine, it is pretty much a seance where we summon the devil. It’s a portal to Hell, where we do every retarded thing we can imagine because it seems totally reasonable…group Facebook stalk your ex and his new girlfriend and then text him, while simultaneously applying self-tanner AND adding the new GF as a friend on Facebook. Things escalate really fast.
So, we will start talking about Max. I’ll be like, “Yeah, that was not my best moment. I even wrote a sad-angry email to him about it and never sent it.” And then this hush will fall over the crowd. And my drunkest, least single girlfriend will be like, “…You should send it. Send it right now.” YOU’RE RIGHT I SHOULD JUST SEND IT. At first, I’ll be really glad I sent it. (Honesty is the best policy! Don’t let things fester. Get it off your chest!) And I’ll sit up in bed the next morning like. OMG DID I SEND THAT EMAIL?!
Act 3: Retreat With Tail Between Legs While Hardening Your Soul. Delete all traces of the email message you sent, and ESPECIALLY delete the even weirder reply you got from the guy, and pretend like all of this never happened. Who’s Max? [Repeat Acts 1-3]
This is the just…the picture of healthy coping mechanisms, surely.
I performed some high-tech Sharpie analysis to demonstrate the distribution of dudes who date online.
You. Are. Killing. Me. WHO IS PLANNING YOUR EVENTS?? CALL ME. WE NEED TO TALK.