You will look for things in common in their profile (they like Scrabble too! You will send them a note, carefully crafted to show interest and attention to detail. The next one will, but she spells “you” as “u” and you will let the conversation stall.Finally, one of the cool girls writes back, and you will banter a bit, swapping favorite restaurants or concert venues.After all, we each have only the 500-word text boxes and crappy jpegs and clever (not so clever) user names to show for ourselves. Maybe in this environment where we are safely sequestered behind screens, we can get past some of the lingering gender-based “rules” that dominate the “How to Catch a Man” playbooks of yore.Maybe instead we can learn to treat each other as equal players of a very silly game that we all secretly take quite seriously. But it seems quite clear to me that we’re not there yet. I’m a feminist, sex-positive 21st century lady whose photos include me posing in a Rosie the Riveter Halloween costume.
With those, you will send a few messages back and forth before he invites you for a drink.
You will part ways, and you will probably, almost certainly, begin again the next day with another “Hey there…” message from the next contender.
I tell all my single guy friends to watch out for online dating.
Basically, I act like an entitled jerk who can pull puppet strings and make Ok Cupid dance for me however I please. I don’t have to, and so I don’t make myself go through the scary exercise of asking for consideration and possibly being rejected or ignored.
This is not the behavior I would expect of a feminist, sex-positive 21st century lady. Why would I put myself through the rollercoaster of the drafting, the editing, the sending, the waiting, the hoping, the checking, and the sighing in disappointment when the fact of my gender (and let’s be real; that’s really all it is) means the attention comes to me?