Review: OkCupid.com (I'm going to hell...)

Dating Site Debacles: A Look at OkCupid

Based on my site's traffic, it seems people only care when I write about other dating sites and porn. (On a side note, apparently, I’m a big deal in Turkey. So to Turkey, I say, “How ya doin’? Way to be Muslim without being jerks about holding women back. And democracy—not bad, right?”)

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My Review of OkCupid

This isn't my first time on this site. A few years ago, I used it and met a woman. By "met," I mean she said hi and immediately started sending me naked pictures. I’ll be honest, up until that point, I wasn't sure women like her actually existed. We eventually agreed to meet for coffee on a Sunday morning. Within an hour, we were headed back to my place for some sexual relations. And within an hour of that, she was on her way home. We never spoke again. Weird? For sure. Random? Absolutely. Cool? Kinda, but it’s definitely in my Top Five Weirdest Moments Ever (along with the time I accidentally touched SpongeBob SquarePants inappropriately and a night in Vegas that involved three different continents).

Since Match.com costs money and I'm currently unemployed (thanks for nothing, college degree), I decided to check out the free options. I’ll give OkCupid this: it's not PlentyOfFish.com (more on that in a later post). OkCupid has you set up a standard profile with a picture and asks you a series of questions. After you answer 25 of them, the site generates a compatibility percentage for you and gives you three matches, which they call The Quiver. As you answer more questions, the site reveals how compatible you are with each person, which is a pretty cool feature.

What the site also tells you are the chances that your match will reply to your message. In short, welcome back to middle school, motherfucker. You can read a profile, like someone, but then see that they are "VERY selective about who they respond to." Well, my confidence was sky-high until I read that nonsense. So, whether I like it or not, I have to factor that into my decision before messaging anyone.

And here’s where things get weird: I see a girl I went to high school with. That in itself isn’t very interesting—until I remember she's the girl my buddy, Mike, lost his virginity to. Suddenly, my mind, which has been battered by years of poor decisions and alcohol, remembers every damn detail of them having sex. She liked sex in public. She liked sex often. In short: she liked to hump. A lot. At 31 years old, I should be able to think about something other than that, right? Nope. I eventually decide not to message her because I heard Mike has warts on his ding-dong. Is it true? Were they from her? Does Mike like Asian hookers? I couldn't find the answers, so I decided to move on.

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Final Thoughts

The site seems okay, but I have no idea if it produces any results other than random coffee shop hookups.

You’re probably thinking, “Wow, this is a pretty shitty review... It seems like nothing more than an excuse to tell a story about some random sex you had and to talk about a girl from high school.”

Hi, have we met?

I'm me (and other reasons I'm an ass)

Ending a relationship is the fastest way to get a brutally honest performance review. Suddenly, your ex is happy to reveal every flaw they ever saw in you. A few pounds? You're a "fat ass." A little sarcastic? You're "dead inside."

(And honestly, she wasn't wrong. Maybe I underestimated her intelligence.)

So, what was the big takeaway from all this? I learned that knowing when a relationship is wrong is just as crucial as knowing when it's right. As a 31-year-old who's emotionally 14, my life advice is usually suspect, but I'm solid on this one.

As for my ex, I genuinely couldn't find a single bad thing to say. Sure, she bleached her hair a lot and wasn't much of a reader, but she was a genuinely sweet and caring person. For some unbiased insight, I turned to the person who knows me best: my mom.

(And by "unbiased," I mean if I used a soup ladle to wipe out an entire nursing home next week, she'd be the first person in the visiting room.)

My mom's professional opinion? "Well, you're a person who needs...space. And you need a person who doesn't need your input. I mean, you're going to give your input, but that person shouldn't care what you have to say."

And that's from the woman who gave birth to me.

After several months in a serious relationship, I can't claim to know what a great relationship looks like, but I now know exactly what it doesn't.

Most importantly, my mom said I'm Ron Jeremy handsome.

Stir Events by Match.com: It's like online dating, but with shittier Wi-Fi

I went to a singles event in a quest for love—or at least, a good blog post. The night started with all the usual suspects: drunk college kids, a pack of women who looked like they were on a mission, and a hilarious moment I'm still not over involving two wheelchairs. Everything was going great until I came face-to-face with the last person I ever expected to see. What happened next wasn't just awkward; it was a full-blown dating disaster.

The concept was simple: Match.com rents out a room at a nice bar, fills it with single people, and gets them a bit tipsy.

When I arrived, I was relieved to see the room wasn’t a total sausage fest. My “7th Grade Dance” theory was debunked—everyone was already mingling.

The Highlights Reel:

• My favorite moment: A woman asked a guy in a wheelchair, "Are you two here together?" while he was on the opposite side of the room. Pure comedy.

• The crowd: A normal collection of drunk college kids, a pack of women who seemed to be conducting interviews, and everyone else who was already well on their way to being shit-house drunk.

• The Strategy: I just went up and talked to women directly. Knowing they were single was a huge confidence boost. If a conversation died, it was easy to just move on to the next person.

Then came the unfortunate twist. I saw my friend’s girlfriend. She made it clear she didn't remember me and said she was there to meet "new guys."

Fuck.

I texted my friend:

Me: "I'm at a singles event, and your lady is here."

Him: "Tell her I said hi."

After a quick bathroom break, I found her again.

"Hey, I know you," I said. "I'm Joe…"

She remembered me instantly. After a few expletives, she stammered, "You aren't going to tell him, are you?"

I said nothing.

"I'm just here for moral support," she offered.

(I stare blankly...ok, I blinked some probably)

"I told him I was in Grand Rapids," she tried. "I just didn't say why…"

I looked her straight in the eye and said, "You're cooked."

I paid my tab and left. I didn’t find love, but I did a solid for a friend. All in all, a success.

I hope the wheelchair people ended up rubbing wheels tonight.