Persistence is Key…to Confirm That You’re a Lunatic

I received the following message through Match.com. As usual, the fact that I received an e-mail got my attention, and once I clicked over to view the sender’s full profile, it all made sense. Imagine, if you will, someone who auditioned to play the part of a Street Fighter character, complete with a fitted faux-leather jacket and a barbed facial expression. It seems to be an attempt to look masculine, but it really just looks like he is about to sneeze. That’s what “ILuvToLaugh” looks like in his profile.


My suitor would be the one on the right, with the gun.

Let’s drift away together into his delightful prose, shall we?

Subject: Uh. No Way

Message:

You know, my friends say that it’s not good to show your hand too quickly (especially online), but after coming across your profile, I had to send you a message to concede that I am a sucker for feminine girls with polarity. I’m not ashamed to admit it!

I mean, don’t get me wrong — it’s NOT like I am some sort of mythical knight out on a quest to find the girliest girl of legends or some frat dude drooling over valley girls who look like they’re straight from the set of Clueless; it’s like that happy medium between a girl being really comfortable with her femininity and balancing the confidence to show it. And it seems like to me, that you fall into that happy medium! (there is a reason why it’s called a happy medium instead of a sad or mediocre medium right?)

Anyway, where are my manners? My name’s Tim, and if smart, funny, stylish, cute, and overall just frankly awesome guys are your thing, then don’t send me a message. Oh wait, I messed up. I mean DO send me a message. I get confused sometimes 🙂

I’m not going to lie. Once I saw the Street Fighter picture, I was kind of confused. The e-mail had me a bit more baffled. But, being the “feminine girl with polarity” that I am, I concluded that this is a canned e-mail and “Tim” doesn’t know what the hell he’s talking about. I certainly don’t. But there’s more!

One Month Later…

Subject: You were burglarized…?

Message:

Hey,

So I was checking my account today in utter disbelief that I didn’t hear back from you yet, and then I just realized what must have happened to you–

You must have been burglarized, and the only thing that horrible and wretched thief must have stole was your keyboard. I feel bad now you poor, poor soul… you must have been so traumatized just sitting there staring at my profile on the screen, clicking away futilely and slamming your mouse down in frustration multiple times while cursing the heavens that this had to happen to you today and that there’s no way for you respond to me.

Like I said… luckily for you, I’m an exceptionally perceptive guy. I mean how many other guys would know that is EXACTLY what happened to you with the limited information you gave me 🙂 And since I’m also in the business of solving problems, here’s some solutions to help you get in contact with me:

1. Get some matches, grab 3 garbage cans, and arrange them in a triangle formation to set them all on fire simultaneously. This will create an accurate smoke triangulation signal so I can come over and find you. I’m like a modern-day knight in shining armor.

2. Use your trusty phone to text me at 646-943-3%*$ so we can continue the conversation

Hmmm… well his first message said he certainly wasn’t a knight, so which is it? Am I dealing with a knight-like Street Fighter character or what?!? And, if I really was burglarized, why would I ever want to commit arson right after that? Would this guy really want to date both a victim and a criminal?

My point is, if you attempt to go the creative and humorous route, you should have the intelligence to back it up. Taking the time to create not one, but two canned e-mails that are sent to anyone you deem to have a heartbeat should also include some logic. Not only am I now having visions of video game characters creating online dating profiles, but I am pretty sure that “ILuvToLaugh” (aka: “Tim”) assumes that I am MacGuyver.

Me, preparing for a date.

I just can’t deal with that sort of pressure.

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