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My friend Julie in Baltimore decided to dip her toes in the OKC waters, which inspired the two of us to go at this together. Much like workout buddies, we are there to remind each other to hold our heads high and not to give up — and to share some of the insanity that runs rampant on the Internet. We also thought it would be interesting to compare and contrast the Los Angeles and Baltimore dating scenes.

Because some of this material is too good not to share, we’ve decided to share it with you in the form of weekly highlights. You’ll get them until either one of us finds love (don’t hold your breath) or gives up (more likely).


WEEKLY RECAP

Dates: 1
Phone Calls: 0
Voicemails: 2
Messages: Countless

BEST OPENING MESSAGE
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WORST OPENING MESSAGE
After doing this for a while, I honestly don’t even care anymore what you say, as long as it’s more than five words. I can’t take one more “hey sexy” or “hi” or “what’s up.” I’d almost rather hear your racist tirade or your argument that aliens are running this country — just give me a couple sentences to chew on. Please.

BEST SELF-SUMMARY
Here’s the thing. I loathe online dating and everything that goes with it. Not for the reasons you’d expect, but simply because lists of attributes and photographs are a complete waste of time. Two people click or then don’t. That said–

Sharp, verbal, writery type with a sense of humor and a ton of perspective. I’m quite successful, but I know better than to believe the hype. I’m kind, funny, affectionate, and also strong as dirt. I’m super selective, but also done with the sort of clever posturing this site–in particular–seems to encourage. That part where I’m charming, deliberately seductive and unattainable, the whole internet dating two step? I’m over it. You be too.

[Sigh. Yes. As long as we are in agreement about this whole purgatory thing we’ve inflicted upon ourselves and we can just cut to the damn chase. Because is anyone really enjoying this? Yes. And that’s the kicker.]

WORST SELF-SUMMARIES
HELLO EVERYONE I AM A 29 YEAR OLD BLACK FEMALE LIVING IN LA LOOKING FOR FRIENDS OR POSSIBILY MORE
I am ATTRACTIVE, SMART, and CLASSY

[Sigh. I usually find that people who tell you how classy they are actually aren’t. Of course, under the “first things people notice about you,” she put “ARE MY BIG BREAST.” So yeah.]

worstselfsummary
[Uh, points for honesty?]

And then there was this guy:
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PROGRESS (OR LACK THEREOF):
An “entrepreneurial type” contacted me. All dashing in his photos, he talked about his various start-ups and multiple investments. I was intrigued. Until we talked on the phone. Yeah, he’s the one who knew Los Feliz as the place where he used to buy coke — and the one who was completely incapable of asking me questions about my life, despite the fact that he claimed to hate talking about himself. For someone who hated talking about himself, he did a very good job at it. Since our conversation, he has butt dialed me once (at 1:15am) and then he called me again last night, at 1am, but this time on purpose.

Voicemail: “Yo, Dahlia, what UP??! Just wondering if you’re still awake. Give me a call if you are. It’s Brandon.”

Now that’s classy.

Another charming thing about Brandon is that, despite the “stockbroker chic” look he’s rocking in his profile pix, he told me that he actually looks like Jesus now. “Oh really?” I asked. “Can you send me a recent photo?” Spoiler alert: He doesn’t look like Jesus. He just looks like a heavier, stoned version of himself.

Then there was the guy I messaged with last week, who said he’d call on Saturday, but I didn’t hear from him until Tuesday afternoon. I realize I’m being ridiculously demanding and intolerant, but my stance on this is that our cell phones make it impossible for us to vanish. If you don’t have time to pick up the phone, it takes two seconds to send a text saying that you don’t have time. If you’re serious on someone, you don’t let days go by without contact, certainly not when you’re trying to make a good impression. And his voicemail wasn’t very apologetic.

Voicemail: “Hey Dahlia, sorry this weekend got busy. Call me back.”

No thanks.

Am I a bitch? Maybe.

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Then there was this other guy, whom I met at a party — aka not OKC territory. I thought maybe that would bode well. But then I was going to go meet him and his friends at a bar over the weekend, only he didn’t text me back to confirm how late they would be at which location — leaving me hanging around the house wondering WTF. He didn’t get back to me until the afternoon of the next day to say that he had left his phone at home. Call me a cynic, but my first instinct is to disbelieve, and then my second instinct is to wonder why, in that case, wouldn’t you text me the second you got home? Then I think he may have tried to redeem himself by texting me at 5pm to see if I wanted to come over for dinner. First of all, that’s short notice. Second of all, traffic. Third of all, that ship has sailed. Because fourth of all…

WHAT I LEARNED FROM OKC THIS WEEK:
…I got that best opening message above. And yes, because I’m a cynic, my first response was to wonder if she sent that to everyone (we’re all special little snowflakes). But the part of me that isn’t cold and dead inside suspected the message was genuine, and so I wrote back. And she wrote back. And we wrote and then we texted. All day. And then we met today. And she was great.

But I’m still not sure I have the patience and fortitude to keep this project going.

So even though I’ve promised to be Julie’s workout buddy until she finds someone, I may have to close my profile. I may have to be only the supportive friend and not the participatory one anymore. I will decide by the end of this week.

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