Originally Posted: 2004-12-29 3:34pm
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favorite this post An Open Letter to Match.com Girls: hide this posting unhide

Stop. Just stop. You’re pissing me off.

First of all, your screen name. Stop putting “sassy” into your screen name. Stop putting “citygirl” into your screen name. When registering, if you tried to use “cubfan” as your screen name and it came back telling you that you’d have to settle for “cubfan57836,” that should have been your first clue that you have picked a disgustingly unoriginal name. If you can’t come up with something truly original, just throw in your initials and some random numbers and leave it at that. You are not clever enough to think of something good, therefore you should not expect to be coupled with someone who is.

Speaking of Cub fans, stop saying you love sports and that you “act just like a guy.” Unless you’re going to show up on my doorstep with a six-pack and a handful of condoms, proclaiming “shut the hell up and get on me,” you don’t act like a guy. I don’t care how guy-like you think you are, I can make you cry without even trying. So stop.

Stop, stop, stop saying you’re looking for a “partner in crime.” Every time I see this inane, completely meaningless sentiment in the first line of your description, I click right past you. Unless, while standing in line at the bank, you think to yourself that all you’d need to pull off a heist is a good wheel man driving a fast car, you’re not looking for a goddamned partner in crime. And if you are thinking that, PUT IT IN YOUR PROFILE, because jesus h. christ that is hot.

Okay. Your picture. Look, I don’t mean to be a dick, but let’s be serious, here. That one picture that was taken of you in just the right light, while your face was angled just perfectly, while you were wearing that dress that hides every ugly bump on your backside, IS NOT YOU. You know how I can tell? There’s ONLY ONE PICTURE OF YOU IN YOUR PROFILE. If you can’t scrape up two pictures of yourself where you don’t look like a hideous wildebeest, chances are you’re a hideous wildebeest. I’m not taking that chance. And if you do find that poor unsuspecting soul who believes you’re as attractive as that picture says, then what have you accomplished? He gets to give you that disappointed look when he meets you in person. And I don’t care how funny you are, or how much you like sports, or what a great “partner in crime” you can be. He’s not going to stick around for long, because you have effectively lied to him. Be honest, show us what you really look like. Maybe you’ll get less suckers emailing you, but at least the ones who do will know what they’re getting into.

And that brings us to when we do make contact. During the time we’re emailing back and forth (and I really can’t stress this enough, kids), we are JUST TWO PEOPLE EMAILING. I am not your boyfriend at this point. I owe you NOTHING. If you notice that I’m still online and active in my search before you and I even meet face-to-face, TOO FUCKING BAD. This is not a horrible thing for me to do. I haven’t even met you yet, so relax. If you’ll take a step back, you’ll probably notice that you’re doing the exact same thing.

Please do not freak out if I don’t respond to your email right away. This does not mean I’m blowing you off, and it does not mean I’m playing games. It means I don’t live in my fucking computer. I have a life outside of cyberspace, so if you’ve sent me a really funny and witty email filled with adorable emoticons, don’t get pissed off if it takes me 24 hours to send you a “LOL.” Relax and go outside for a few minutes. All those angry thoughts you’re thinking will soon seem really crazy, trust me. They certainly do to me.

And if we do meet, and some kissy stuff happens, guess what? I still don’t owe you ANYTHING. Yes, I, too would love to believe that the very touch of my lips has the power to enslave members of the opposite sex. But just because we mashed and dry-humped on your couch for an hour doesn’t mean I’m betrothed to you. Maybe this will pan out and get more serious, but for now RELAX. We just kissed. If I go home and check my messages on Match, don’t send me an “I saw you online” email and curse me out. All that will do is make me go away in search of less troublesome company. Sad, but true. Deal.

Okay, to recap: Stop it, don’t do that, relax. Easy enough, right?

this is in or around online dating hell

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