The waiting is the hardest part
So many days after our editor-in-chief hasn't gotten virtual requests for real dates, what's changed?
One week into this experiment, the fact that I have not received any flirty messages has left me maybe more stressed out than I have been about anything ever.
About a week ago, Ginny said that the etiquette of online dating sites—and again, thank God for Ginny’s research, because I live my entire life in perpetual fear of making faux pas—was that the guy had to do the approaching. So I messaged a girl who, legitimately, was pretty, and not only that, cited Disney movies, graphic novels, and is a self-confessed tall, awkward nerd.
So buoyed by Ginny’s leering insistence, I sent a message. At the bottom of her profile, she lists four things that, if I know what they are, mean I should get in touch with her. I knew three of the four—one reference from the graphic novel Transmetropolitan, one to Douglas Adams’s Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, and one to Dr. Who. I felt pretty good about that—75 per cent is how I’ve made it to fourth year CSP, after all.
Then I waited.
And went to Montreal.
And got back.
OKCupid also has this dastardly feature where it will tell you when the last time a user logged in. And I’m not too embarrassed to admit that I’ve been pretty regularly popping onto this girl’s profile to find out when she logged in. And it’s always recently—recently enough and often enough to have logged in, seen my message, and ignored it, multiple times. So for every “yesterday, at 10:22 AM” and “today, at 11:00 PM”, and for every perusal through available matches made me realize I simply wasn’t interested the profiles there, I got increasingly desperate.
So I’ve been relentlessly, even obsessively, editing and tweaking my profile (you can check it out at www.okcupid.com/profile/adrianlee21). When a friend made fun of my boring wording of the sentence “I’m a fourth-year university student looking to secure a job in journalism”, I shredded up the sentence almost immediately. I increased my height an inch to 6’1, lest I was literally selling myself short. I also found that anyone with internet access can edit my profile. Even people who don’t have an OKCupid account. So I’ve shopped my profile around to fix up: to Watch staffers to edit for copy and style, to my 16-year-old sister, to an ex-girlfriend.
And now I’m asking you, dear and loyal readers, to help a brother out. We can’t all be Ginny, an attractive blonde whose profile includes a photo of herself in a bikini. So let’s make my profile a bit of a collective work. I’m finding it impossible to write about myself, too, and I feel like others have a better, more modest sense of my character. I have to approve any changes anyway, so even if you bear powerful hatred to me, edit me anyway—maybe there’d still be some essential nugget in there that would make me that much more attractive to anonymous girls online.
After all, once you’ve made me vaguely appealing, I can finally get to the real stuff–telling you about the dates.
Ginny and Adrian will have another podcast up by Tuesday morning, and we’ll discuss updates!