In December, my former friend with benefits gchatted me to tell me about the really hot girl he met on OKcupid.com, an online dating site that is supposedly the best one to use if you’re not a part of the middle-aged demographic (or Jewish—I’ve heard great things about JDate). Feigning enthusiasm (“Wow! That’s great! Good luck at your date! Tell me all about it “), I decided there was no better way to show him how much I had moved on from everything than to create a profile and find a cute hipster of my own. I registered with a Joanna Newsom–inspired account name and set my location to San Francisco, so I could start searching for a winter break fling before I’d even left Providence.
Christopher messaged me after I had visited his profile a few times; OKCupid alerts users of anyone who has visited their profiles. He was 23, straight and single. He looked slightly different in each of his three pictures, but at least moderately attractive in all of them. Slightly effeminate, but in a tolerable sort of way.
We only went on one date. I don’t know what chemistry is exactly, but I certainly know how its absence feels. We met at Union Square in San Francisco, ventured to Starbucks and then over to Border’s. Christopher drifted towards the young adult fiction section, only to pick up a book about vampires. There was no adult friction, in case you’re wondering.
Every so often, I’ll log back on, just to see if my soul mate has in fact found me. Today I received a message from some guy named John. “hey i’m john why do poeple [sic] look at me and say ‘uh oh’ when they found out i’m a virgo?” I haven’t yet replied.