How OKCupid made me lose faith in humanity

Dating and meeting new people can be hard in today’s world and that’s why I thought I’d give online dating a go. It didn’t turn out to be what I’d hoped though, in fact it made me realise that humans are awful.

I had hoped that my experience would rival that of Meg Ryan in You’ve Got Mail but it wasn’t to be. The majority of people who sent me messages either expressed feelings of sexual frustration or were in their 40’s and had names like, ‘fatherfigure,’ and ‘dogs_over_people’. This was hopeless.

But, instead of wallowing in my own self-pity I decided it was actually just a little bit funny and here’s why…

OkCupid resurfaced latent feelings of resentment

The immediacy of my first online rejection resurfaced feelings of resentment, so I went on Facebook to bitch about how OkCupid was failing to meet my online romance expectations with a friend.

I told my friend: “OKCupid sucks, I’ve been on there for like 4 days and I’ve not met ‘the one’.

The response I received wasn’t the post uplifting. “That’s why I deleted mine after a week” my friend said. “I didn’t speak to that many people though to be fair.”

“You have to hang in there though.”

And so, in spite of better judgment I clung on to what ever hope I had, believing that eventually someone would have some sort of truth affirming conversation with me.

One track mind

On the whole, conversation was limited to the themes of physical attractiveness and sex. Once these themes had been addressed conversation tended to come to an end. Apparently expressing fake admiration at the size of muscles isn’t enough to keep the spark alive.

It saddened me that, had I been part of an AA group, this would have been reason enough for someone to bring what could have been the beginning of a beautiful online romance to an end. In light of the repetitive cycle of disillusionment I decided to reaffirm my belief that I am awesome.

I said: “People in this site are pussies. It’s like, you’re behind a computer screen, there is considerable enough distance, and more than enough time to make yourself sound less stupid than you do in real life.”

My friend agreed: “People just can’t give good face. It’s not their fault they can’t vogue. They’re just not fabulous enough.”

“It’s like people don’t even consider the amount of time it took me to take a photo that will make me look better than I do in real life and how hard it was trying to pull a semi-duck face that seems like there’s no effort involved in making my lips looks like they’re puckering naturally? no.”

But apparently the process I had undergone to take my profile picture hadn’t gone unnoticed, and was utilised as a bargaining tool masqueraded in the form of an archaically chauvinistic chat up line.

What were they thinking?

I was not impressed, and neither was my friend…

“LOOOOOOOOOOOL what an arsehole. He’s SUCH douche, people are arseholes and that’s why I won’t go back on the site.”

By the end of the week I was fed up,  the closest thing to inner truth I can disclose is that it led me down a path in life where I found myself stroking Charlie Brooker’s face on my laptop screen.

To avoid this from re-occurring I decided it would be for the best to bring my OkCupid experience to an end, and, I dunno, take up a hobby, or watch videos of people stupid things to satisfy my thirst for revenge toward humanity.