#nofilter

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CC Image courtesy of oddsock on FlickrI discovered the filter function on OkCupid the other day.

I was having brunch with Tristan, Tristan’s girlfriend (don’t ask), Ryan and a couple of others, who were incidentally also a couple. Conversation turned to dating.

‘How did you two meet?’ Tristan says to The Couple.

They laugh. ‘OkCupid,’ they say, at the exact same time.

‘Yeah, when I applied the filters that really mattered to me,’ the girl says, looking fondly at the residue, ‘you were the only one left!’

The residue smiles. I frown. Filters? That’s only available on the paid option, no?

No, so the following evening, remembering this conversation, I start filtering like a SWIMMING POOL, trying not to think about how much time I’ve wasted scrolling through unsuitable profiles.

Single, straight, at least 5’10” (my height), university-educated non-smokers – that’s all I’m asking for. Oh and in the interests box I put the name of my favourite band, believing – perhaps mistakenly – that there’s a much greater chance I’ll hit it off with a fellow fan. I start scrolling through the results. One guy catches my eye.

There should be a name for it, when you’ve seen someone on every online dating platform going, you’ve consistently ‘liked’ them because, y’know, they’ve got great bone structure, are funny and like all the same music and books as you. And they’ve been consistently unresponsive. This time I copy and paste his interests section for when I feel like browsing Spotify for new music, before returning to the search results.

I continue scrolling down, only to be met with the words that there are no more results and that I might want to consider revising my criteria. The band gets the axe and, what the hell, alcoholism and smoking – they have a certain charm, right?

A short while later I find myself back on a familiar profile: a chain-smoking heteroflexible* divorced father of two who lives on the wrong side of the Channel. And who I’m pretty sure I’ve already spoken to.

CC Image courtesy of [Rossco]:[www.rgstrachan.com] on Flickr

*Defined on Urban Dictionary as ‘I’m straight but shit happens’.

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Hard To Find

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4858397745_fed336e4beBored of hiya, hey! and every other variation in the book, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I did it once before and depending on how you look at it, the outcome was pretty damn good. I went on the best dates of my life, laughed a lot and discovered what is now my favourite band. All of which would never have happened if I hadn’t… listened to Beatrice.

So I do a repeat: I send short messages to attractive prospects on Tinder and OkCupid written in the spirit of the kinds of messages I would like to receive. No heys, hiyas or how are yous (don’t care). And if they don’t reply in kind, I leave it.

Which is how, one Wednesday night, I come to be swapping messages with an attractive, witty lawyer who bears more than a passing resemblance to Karl and Neighboursomeone’s got a type. He also has a similar response time to my arch-nemesis, but like I said he’s attractive, witty and has a job, so what can you expect?

CC Image courtesy of matthew.hickey on Flickr

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Laughing Matters

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‘Oh shit. Am I going to have to buy you a coffee?’CC Image courtesy of Phil W Shirley

I laugh. ‘No Ryan, I said I had a comedy story about OkCupid, I didn’t say I had a date!’

It’s not until early evening that we get a chance to speak properly.

‘So,’ I begin, ‘it was the section where you admit something private about yourself and I read his and realised… we must be related!’

‘Ohhhh.’

‘Yeah and I figured out… he’s my… third cousin, so quite distant. So the question is, Ryan, is it OK to fancy your cousin – third cousin – and date them?’

Ryan reckons not.

‘Ohhh but he’s funny!’

Ryan and I are on the same page when it comes to this one: we both only want to date men who make us laugh. The way he actually puts it is, ‘I HATE people who don’t make me laugh’. I don’t feel quite so strongly, but I do think it’s a bugger that the first funny, good-looking guy I’ve encountered in the virtual world (or the real world for that matter) since VP also happens to be a blood relative.

I try a different tack, though my tone isn’t hopeful.

‘We’d probably have a lot of things in common.’

Ryan gives me a look.

Chromosomal DNA for one.

CC Image courtesy of B.C. Angell on Flickr

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