Posts Tagged ‘ online dating

Why I’m Tired Of Online Dating

Like many, many other women in Los Angeles, I do the online dating thing. And I’ll admit that I’m a veteran of ten-plus years (although I don’t really count OK Cupid – I used it for the fun quizzes during the early 2000’s). While I’ve met some incredible and not-so-incredible guys from various sites, there’s always one constant that irks me: dirty messages. Not cute dirty messages, but the straight up foul ones. For example:

http://theletterkae.tumblr.com/post/113986464409/i-dont-know-about-you-but-i-doubt-a-guy-would


http://theletterkae.tumblr.com/post/113984671184/replies-id-like-to-send-but-wont-1-i-like-all



When I was still in my twenties, I used to get messages like those a LOT. If it wasn’t about their penis, it was about how they *loved* Asian girls. Since I’ve entered my early thirties, the amount has decreased – not significantly, but enough where I don’t feel compelled to turn off my profile and wait for the crazy to die down.

Until I got this one in my inbox:
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I’m bummed that I didn’t log in before this guy disabled his profile. I kinda wanted to see the face of the person who thought this was a great ice breaker (although knowing my luck, it was probably a faceless, shirtless pic of pecs and abs). And I think that’s what ended up bothering me. Usually when I get a crude message, there’s a picture of the person. It helps somehow to be able to see who’s being a jerk so I can neatly categorize and file info away into my “Approach With Caution” dating catalog. Without a face to the words, it’s like a black hole is calling out insults. And I can’t respond because it won’t go anywhere.

As much as I wanted to laugh it off, it left me feeling kind of…slimey. I didn’t like that a faceless stranger wanted to shove his penis inside of me and got excited thinking about it. It’s awkward enough to be asked if you’re interested in penis via text.

But when a cock knocks you down, push it away and get back up. (That’s a legit saying, right?) I started conversations with other guys and it always seemed to go south after sharing a couple of punny jokes. Twice I was asked if I would sit on faces about three lines after “how’s it going?” One asked me if I was wearing green underwear for St. Patrick’s Day and made a request that I at least wear “sexy panties” when we met for a drink. Another one (who took about three days to reply to a text) came up with this witty banter:

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Spring was definitely in the air, but instead of new grass emerging from the snowy ground, it felt like young men’s erections were pushing through the dirt.

I complained bitterly to a male friend of mine about what I’d been through for the past few weeks. He was incredibly empathetic but since he lives on the East Coast, he could only stay awake for so long. So I reached out to a male acquaintance who was having similar dating issues. This conversation did not go well at all. (Apologies for the highlighted text boxes – for some reason my phone likes to make bright color boxes to indicate quick replies.)

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So…yeah. It’s annoying (to say the least) that this is the norm for ice breakers. Other blog posts, BuzzFeed articles, and Tumblr have featured similar complaints from female writers, but I haven’t seen any slack in guys being so crude in their icebreakers.

Current status: waiting for my knight with the shining Macbook Air who starts a casual conversation before leading into sex talk.

You Can’t Fool Me (I Hope)

I was browsing through OK Cupid this evening when this came up:

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I’m still not sure if that’s the same guy with two different profiles or if they really are two separate people. Then again, I’m the girl who couldn’t tell her blonde-haired boyfriend-at-the-time apart from other blonde-haired guys (especially those who hang with Snoop Dogg/Lion).

Keanu Reeves, Where Are You?

A few years back, I posted this picture:

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If you remember the 8oz. Burger Bar that was on Melrose, and if you had a large enough party, you probably recall the large table that stood between the two rooms. What you may not know is that the table had drawers, and the drawers had notes stashed inside, written by other patrons. The note my party decided to contribute was this:

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I made a joke about leaving a love note there with vague hopes of meeting my next boyfriend (a la “The Lakehouse”). After all, it doesn’t get any worse than popping letters into a box and hoping that someone else will read them, right? (And hopefully won’t show up a year or two in the past for a soon-to-be traffic victim to read.) It’d probably be safer than posting a personals ad on Craigslist.

These days I’ve gone back into the world of online dating. It’s part of the process to get back into a normal lifestyle after last year, but man, it’s a lot of work. Right now I think I’m attracting the ones who are ready to just jump into a full-blown relationship, with a focus on marriage by next year. That’s all well and good, but I’m finding it tricky to communicate with guys clearly. If you’ve taken the time to fill out sections of an online dating profile, I’d like to think that you also recall what it was you wrote about yourself.

For example: one guy put in his profile that he spent a lot of time around the Third Street Promenade area in Santa Monica. Having run out of steam in the “ice breaker” part of our emails, I thought I’d mention that I used to hang out there a lot as a teenager, with some commentary on how much it’s changed in the past fifteen years. The response I received was along the lines of, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Confused, I double checked his profile, found the specific line, and quoted him in the next email.

I didn’t realize you were referring to something I had noted in my profile. Woops! Yeah, usually when I go out there I just go to the Barnes and Noble and read for a while.

It was probably bitchy of me to go back and quote him, but hey, that was about you. Or so you’d like for me to believe. I stopped talking to this one – if it’s not coming back to mind right away, then who knows how much else is “true?”

The next gem came from another guy: you seem like such a sweet girl…where are you from originally. Would you be interested in talking more…?

Two things made me grit my teeth:
1. Punctuation was not constant. Having spent years studying English, occasionally contributing to two geek culture blogs in the past, and the added pressure of Asian parents makes for a Grammar Nazi.
2. I wrote in my profile that I’m from Chicago but grew up in LA (which is probably too much information). This section is at the very start of my profile. If you didn’t take the time to read it and just looked at my picture, I have a pretty good idea of what you’re looking for.

I thought I’d give this guy the benefit of the doubt and looked to see if his profile was written the same way. It had pretty decent punctuation and wasn’t worded at all like his email. Little warning bells went off: if your messages don’t match the writing style in your profile, then I’m going to pass.

The following day, this popped up in my inbox: i noticed that you took a look at my profile but i didint see any response mesaage from you….i guess you just arent interested in this great guy. lol

Once again, lack of punctuation was a deal breaker. Also, I’m not quite sure where the “lol” is coming from – maybe a sarcastic laugh at my poor decision to not connect?

Dating is a tricky thing, especially at the starting stage. Where’s Keanu Reeves when I need him?!

Sexting The Letter Kae

This is a true story.

Two weeks ago I went out on a coffee date with a guy from the internet. It went well enough to try and do a second meetup. We tried to do a dinner date the following week, but then I received a text message from the coffee date guy that read:

Hey K, my friend is taking an early SF flight tomorrow and he’s just going to crash on the futon. Let’s pospone another day soon. Back to catch some ass

I thought he was being a tad bit forward for ending like that, but a couple of seconds later, another text came with the rest of the sentence. And it wasn’t dirty in the least.