But I’m not here to tell you about my boring OkCupid messages. I’m here to tell you about the super cute email I sent to Work Crush.
Brief notes of explanation: (1) It was recently unearthed that WC and I are both ardent fans of dinosaur comics, and (2) He makes a(n allegedly) mean basil gimlet at the bar he tends.
dear dino comic pal,
john mccain is trying to cramp my style, as usual, but assuming he mans up and shows, we’re partying down at [bar] tomorrow night at 7. i think you’re working, but maybe you are free after that? i have no idea how long this possibly-non-existent debate is going to last // not last.
bring me a basil gimlet?
I ask you: WHO CAN RESIST MY CHARMS?
Answer: Many, many men.
The best part of this email is that I initially typed ‘date’ instead of ‘debate’ in what would have been a contender for Top 5 Greatest Freudian Slips of the Past Week (in My Gmail Account). Un/fortunately, I caught the gaffe before hitting send.
As far as the OkCupid onslaught… oh, man, I don’t know. There was a hot 22-year-old with a Napoleon complex, a 27-year-old who thinks I have “a great deal of spark and spunk about (me),” and a 29-year-old who is snowboarding and/or rock-climbing in every single photo and says he’s looking for that “special someone” now that he has a great career “and a truck.”
In my latest response from Suburbia, he justified his tenure in the ‘burbs with an explanation that sounds to me like an extra-large serving of deep fried whine-cakes.
He makes it sound like finding an apartment downtown is The Hardest Thing Ever (“I guess if you’re not moving in August and signing the lease nine months before, you can expect to fight for scraps”) and that he was essentially forced against his will to rent a “boring, soulless apartment” where he “has his own washer/dryer, parks indoors, and receives mail from the AARP, as if to rub it in.”
I’m not going to blah-dee-blah about this too much, but I’ve moved, like, a bunch. At weird times. In weird places. I’ve sublet, I’ve lived without a lease, I’ve rented short-term and long-term, and I’ve crashed with friends. I’ve never moved in August and I’ve never signed for an apartment longer than a few weeks before moving in. I’ve always lived in amazing places and it’s never taken me longer than a few weeks to find them.
This isn’t about where he lives or doesn’t live, it’s about the disconnect between what he claims to want and what he actually chooses, given very little resistance.
Then again, that’s something we could all probably work on.
Bottom line: I date people who Make Shit Happen, not people who are incapable of such simple tasks as securing an apartment and making dinner reservations. And if I think a dude sounds lame, I don’t need to go out with him, even if he does listen to James Taylor and makes zombie art projects or whatever the blah.
Well, I don’t know.
In vaguely disappointing news, Work Crush just wrote me back:
Awesome idea, though I doubt I’ll be able to make it. I’m supposed to go to a [department] grad student party tonight after work. Let me know about plans for the next debate. I’ve got thoughts and opinions that I’d love to share loudly and inarticulately after one too many beers.
Ah. I guess he really did just want the New York Times.
At this point, I think I’ve done enough to let him know I’m interested; I’ll let him take the reigns from here. His email doesn’t exactly scream, “Oh no! I really like you and I’m missing my chance to hang out with you! Let’s nail down alternate plans so that you don’t lose interest and stop inviting me to things!” Instead, he sounds like a super nice dude who would like to be friendly acquaintances.
And I’m down for that, too.
Onward and upward.
ANNA. i really wish you had typed “date” instead of “debate”
ANNA. that might have sped things along
ANNA. in a hilarious romcom manner
ME. HA i know
ME. i allllllllllllllllmost told him that i almost wrote that
ME. but then decided that was too much
ME. i got shut down anyway, so it matters not
ME. oh well
ME. you win some, you lose some
ME. or you just lose all of them
ME. which also happens
ANNA. maybe we need to redefine “win” and “lose”
ANNA. and while we’re at it, “draw”