First message on OkCupid:
A. I have a name, and it is not “babe.”
B. Maybe don’t refer to my appearance in any way when YOUR photo is of…I’m guessing a door?
I’ve had some thoughts loitering in the back of my brain about my current relationship-like experience, and its similarities to a past experience that was much worse, brain-wise.
So obviously, as further evidence of my iPhone’s forthcoming sentience, I went on Instagram and it was like, “Hey! You might know Past Experience!”
Fuck you, Instagram.
That’s OK, though — again, the beauty of getting over the much worse past experience is knowing that THIS experience, comparatively, ain’t shit.
Because I have no impulse control, I sent a Facebook message that he saw an hour ago and didn’t answer, so… I guess that’s my answer. (Ahem…I may have also sent a follow-up. Also seen and unanswered.)
So I’m not being used for sex, but I DO trust people too easily and I AM a shit judge of character. Couldn’t even assemble the balls to be like, “Yeah, we’re done”?
(For the record, I was right — hurts a little, but I know it’ll pass.)
My OkCupid profile says I’m an editor. Today I got this first message: “Hi there is there still a big demand for editors? I’d honestly like to know.”
That one’s free.
I’m too old to be a Handmaid, but fingers crossed I get to be a Martha.