I was home sick, and bored, and I'd already blogged for a second time that week, and I'm still fighting this bizarre urge to text Mr. Charming. The desire fluctuates between hoping it will somehow magically turn into him begging to see me again (unlikely) and the desire to demand an explanation for why he dropped off the face of the planet (which I doubt he would give me even if he did reply).
So in my desire to avoid getting myself into that horrible situation, I put myself in another horrible situation instead.
I downloaded OkCupid's app.
And I have nothing but regrets.
First of all, if you thought I didn't like Clover, then I really didn't like OkCupid. Talk about spam! It's bad enough that once again I found myself on an app in which everyone and their brother could message me, whether they fit my criteria or not, but this one thought I wanted email notifications as well as regular cell phone notifications. So while this was happening,
|all in the first half hour|
Yeah, once again, I couldn't get to the settings controls fast enough to make this damn app shut. up. Why are email notifications a default setting anymore anyway? I don't know anyone who wants to get duplicate notifications of everything they're already seeing on their phone.
And, as I'm sure you can guess, few-to-none of these messages were worth reading. Some of them may have been, but they got buried within minutes, making it too much of a pain in the ass to go through and read all of them. But a few highlights were someone named "Theassman1991" asking how my "bowling and pool game" are, and some guy in Iowa telling me he knew that there was some distance between us but he thinks we stand a real chance and would I like to get dinner sometime?—(friendly reminder that I live in Chicago.) There were a couple of nice messages, but from guys at least five years younger than me and just no.
By the way, if I had known this was the kind of app/site where you don't have to use your real name, I never would have bothered. By the time I figured that bit out, I'd already fallen too far down the rabbit hole.
Lest we forget, my life is a mess. So sandwiched in the middle of all these messages was one that caught my eye:
>>>> Wait, didn't we go to college together?
Oh God. I've heard of things like this happening, but it's kind of like a car accident: You never think it will actually happen to you. Until it does. Sure enough, messaging me was Mr. Alumni, someone I knew from real life. The fourth wall has been destroyed, and by a guy I only remember because he used to work at the coffee shop in our campus library. (You remember the people who provide your caffeine in the dark times, people. You remember them.)
So—because again, I'm an idiot—I said hi and confirmed it, and we shared a humorous laugh over being on OkCupid and how all of our friends are basically married
and how I'm about to be homeless because my roommates both have boyfriends and I don't.
And we talked for a little bit and then Mr. Alumni gave me his phone number and I realized what a horrible, horrible mistake I had made. I was just chatting and being friendly. I'm not actually interested in dating Mr. Alumni.
No. No, definitely not.
No, for sure not. I was never attracted to him that way. He's just a flirt and so am I so it probably appeared to the untrained eye that we were attracted to one another, but if he actually was then it was definitely one-sided.
And now somehow I've agreed to "let him buy me a drink sometime" and I feel like a horrible human being because this definitely counts as misleading him. I know I'm not interested in him that way.
But on the other hand, maybe I should listen to the voice in my head that sounds suspiciously like my mother and give him a chance. Go for the drink and then tell him I'm not attracted to him and become Bitch of the Year.
At least I'll get out of the apartment.
Ugh, I should be banned from dating sites.
But by the way the moral of the story is that OkCupid is a lousy dating app and there are SO many better choices out there for you.