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—but nothing on the level of the backhanded assholeish-ness that infiltrated my inbox from day one on Ok Cupid. I figured you probably hear it all the time, but hey, I couldn’t let someone as gorgeous as you get away without me at least telling her first. I tend to ramble.” When I first got this message, I had been on Ok C for a few days and was already getting tired of the bullshit two-word messages and the negging and the total absence of shallow compliments I thought I’d be getting to at least compensate for the rest of the trash in my inbox. I like talking about myself as much as (and probably more than) the next person, OBVIOUSLY.I felt bad enough going online to date in the first place, but the influx of negs made me feel worse. But the desire to demean someone and the desire to date her are, I think, mutually exclusive. 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.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.Sometimes it’s just clear that you should have joined the convent like your third-grade teacher suggested. For the record, none of these messages garnered a response.Wiele z tych kobiet to zdesperowane samotne mamuśki i zdradzające żony pragnące nieco zabawy. Czy zgadzasz się zachować tożsamość tych kobiet w tajemnicy?I knew, very literally, that love wasn’t going to happen overnight. We poured ourselves glasses of wine and set about describing ourselves in the best, most attractive, most unique, most intriguing ways we possibly could. Is this what guys are thinking when they list their heights as five-ten even though you know, in your heart, that they are five-seven? It didn’t matter what he looked like (or what I look like, for that matter), or if we had anything in common, or what we were even talking about. More fitting would be “trite,” “absurd,” “weirdly insulting,” and “grotesque expressions of the soul-sucking vortex known as humanity.” Some messages were innocuous enough, but these were in the minority. Less horrifying.) For some reason it seems like standard operating procedure, among those with opposite-sex interests, that GUYS message GIRLS and that is that. I am, however, interested in the betterment of humankind.Not to mention that he’s only writing me to draw attention to his shirtless fitness-modeling pictures, to let me know that he doesn’t want attention drawn to his shirtless fitness-modeling pictures. You can’t set this message up to questioning because opening that door will send you down an existentialist path from which you will never return. The Mediocre Finally, though I would be hard pressed to pinpoint and describe any of them among the mountains and mountains of filth I received while on Ok C, there were some nice messages.Though this message is almost its own animal, a mixed-breed neg/cry for help/boast of sorts, I am categorizing it here because clearly this guy has been burned by tall girls before, and it couldn’t have less to do with me if it tried. Nothing spectacular, but how many spectacular first messages can there be in nature?
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?But I am not talking about outlines or brief boilerplate messages. I am talking about excruciatingly detailed compliments. Just came across your post and really its seems to be very honest and clear i would surely like to know u better Well I am looking for a nice to be friends with and then take it from there and i really wanna take care of her I am pretty well off and well educated..i guess I know how to treat a woman . ” Perhaps not surprisingly, this message came from someone with whom I shared a higher enemy percentage than match percentage. He was like our Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, but the opposite. “I’m just being real here, I know this is completely random and I know you have entirely no clue who I am, but I was looking through profiles and saw yours and I was blown away. Nah, maybe we just meet up and dive into a grand discussion walking around Mall of America, grab some coffee or tea and possibly take in some people watching or I carry the bags while you shop.I am talking about sickness—a viral kind of pathology that sneaks up on you, tells you you’re special, and then kills you. Hmm, if she was up for adventure, we could go shoot some guns, indoor rock climbing, or snowboarding too.In any case, here are some all-too-real examples of negging in action. “Oh man, my freshman year roommate was a total ISTJ, one of the worst guys I’ve known. None of these messages even garnered a half-second’s consideration of a response.
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.
Why would I want to respond to someone who has already prepared himself to resent me and my snobby, exclusive height? You get the idea, I get the idea, every one of us is in perfect agreement that this is the pinnacle of dating-message achievement and I got it all to myself. I’m guessing that two total are sent per year, and though scientists try to encourage breeding, the messages are never really in the mood.