I pick you up in my 2002 Mazda Protege. ES edition. As you enter my sensible, fuel-efficient vehicle, you’re enveloped by the erotic perfume of pine air freshener and cool ranch Doritos. Perched in the cup holders are two wineglasses. On the armrest, a box of Franzia Reserve.
Recent events have inspired me to web wander into the atrocious abyss that is OkCupid and create a profile.
A committed relationship is the least-profitable thing to come out of a dating site.
I’m eager to know how the other half online dates.
On a typical Friday night I am: getting into my pajamas if it takes my friends longer than 6 minutes to text me back with solid and enticing plans.
26. You miss out on meeting a variety of failed artists, mostly male writers.
I used to think “dick pics” and casual encounters were only things that happened in politics or the oval office.
I didn’t start dating until college. For the first two years, it was with people from school. I was taken on proper dinner or movie dates.
And by most popular, I mean the “most messaged.”